"Goku, you've done exceptionally well, but remember: the path of magic is as vast as the ocean. Never let complacency dull your edge."
Makarov stepped forward, his hand resting firmly on Goku's shoulder. His expression was a blend of pride and caution. "The world is massive, composed of several great continents. Our guild is just one of hundreds on this land alone. There are countless S-Class mages out there, many of whom possess terrifying strength that transcends mere ranking. Even the title of 'Wizard Saint' is often more of a political honor than a definitive measure of power. Many mages walk this earth with strength equal to or exceeding the Saints, yet they choose to remain unknown, drifting through the shadows of the world."
Goku was still young—barely a teenager—and Makarov feared that if the boy realized his true standing too early, he might fall into the trap of arrogance. If a martial artist or a mage lost their humility, their growth would inevitably plateau.
He wasn't lying to the boy, either. He thought of Gildarts Clive, the guild's ace—a man who treated "Crash Magic," a force capable of shattering the very laws of nature, as if it were a common parlor trick. In terms of raw combat effectiveness, Makarov knew Gildarts had long since surpassed him. If they truly fought, there were few among the Ten Wizard Saints who could withstand Gildarts' chaotic power.
"I knew it! There really are so many strong people out there!" Goku's eyes didn't fill with fear; they ignited with a fierce, competitive light. To him, a world full of experts was the ultimate playground for self-improvement.
"It's noon," Makarov noted, his own stomach letting out a polite rumble. "Teaching time is over for the morning. Let's head back to the guild and get some food."
For underage mages who hadn't yet started earning Jewel through requests, the guild provided complimentary room and board. While "room" meant the dorms, "board" meant the bustling guild hall kitchen.
"Eat as much as you like! You'll need the energy for the afternoon session!" Makarov declared boisterously.
Having secured such a prodigious disciple, the Master was in a spectacular mood. As soon as Mirajane poured him a massive mug of ale, he downed it in one go. The regular meeting of the Guild Masters was approaching, and he could already envision the looks on the faces of his old rivals—those who had teased him about having no successor—when they heard about the monster of a student he had taken under his wing.
"I'm diving in!"
Goku didn't need to be told twice. He began to eat with a speed and ferocity that would have put a pack of hungry wolves to shame.
"Another plate, please!"
"One more over here!"
"Can I get three more of these?!"
Slowly, the chatter in the guild hall died down. The veteran mages, who usually spent their time drinking and bragging about their exploits, slowly turned their heads. Their mouths fell open as they watched the mountain of plates grow higher and higher on Goku's table.
"Is he... is he actually a bottomless pit?" one mage whispered.
Half an hour later, Goku finally patted his stomach and let out a resounding, satisfied burp. The table before him was a graveyard of ceramic plates, stacked nearly as tall as he was.
"Master..." Mirajane whispered, leaning over to the equally stunned Makarov. "He just consumed three days' worth of the guild's entire food reserve."
Normally, even with twenty-odd mages hanging around the hall, the kitchen was well-stocked. Goku had just single-handedly eaten the equivalent of a small army's rations.
Makarov's eye twitched. 'I need to teach him faster,' he thought. 'I need to get this boy on missions immediately.'
Originally, he had planned to spend a month or two easing Goku into the basics of Giant Magic before letting him join a team as a trainee. But at this rate, if Goku ate for free for half a month, the already precarious guild finances would collapse into total bankruptcy.
...
The Week of Hell
Over the next seven days, Makarov went into overdrive mode. He dedicated every waking hour to transferring his entire lifetime of knowledge regarding Giant Magic to Goku.
Magic, in the hands of different individuals, evolved through personal flair and utility. Just as Gray used Ice-Make to create everything from battle-axes to cannons, and other ice mages might focus on freezing entire landscapes, Giant Magic was more than just "getting big." Makarov had spent decades developing specific techniques to make the style viable against faster, more versatile elemental users.
Back in the clearing of the East Forest, a week later:
"Giant's Fist!"
Goku's right arm flared with a brilliant golden magic circle. Without enlarging his entire body, his arm suddenly swelled to massive proportions, extending like rubber and slamming into a distant boulder with the force of a falling meteor.
This was one of Makarov's specialized combat forms. By partially enlarging limbs, a mage could maintain the agility of their smaller frame while delivering the localized, crushing power of a giant. It was also far more efficient in terms of mana consumption.
"Giant's Stomp!"
Goku leaped high into the air, his right foot expanding until it was the size of a small house, crashing down onto the earth and creating a localized earthquake.
"Giant's Headbutt!"
Grabbing the thick branches of a tree as if they were a foe's shoulders, Goku's head momentarily enlarged, and he delivered a crushing strike that leveled the ancient timber instantly.
"Giant's Wrath!"
Goku let out a roar, a massive golden magic circle manifesting beneath his feet. A visible shockwave of golden energy rippled outward, pulverizing everything in its path—trees, soil, and stone—into fine dust.
"Excellent, Goku. I've taught you every form and technique I know. The rest is down to your own dedication and practice," Makarov said, watching as Goku used his "Ki Magic" Reparo to fix the torn-up landscape.
The week of intensive training had been a revelation for the Master. Even though Goku had only just grasped the basics, his physical foundation was so absurdly strong that the power he generated was terrifying. Makarov honestly suspected that if they fought using nothing but Giant Magic, he might not be able to keep up with the boy's sheer vitality and martial instinct.
"Take the next few days to rest," Makarov advised. "Go explore Magnolia, talk to the others, and learn the common sense of the world. You need to understand how missions work before you head out."
To get Goku "mission-ready" and self-sufficient, Makarov had barely slept. He had pushed Goku to the limit, and the boy had absorbed it all like a sponge. Meanwhile, Lucy—the other newcomer—had already integrated into the guild social scene and completed two small requests. She was already a "qualified" mage, even if she hadn't made much money yet.
"I'll be back from the Masters' meeting soon. When I return, we'll see which team you'll join for your first real challenge!"