Rosemary

Gamgee Hardwick:

Frustration, exasperation, and bewilderment are all emotions I'm intimately familiar with. Yet, never in my wildest imaginings did I think I'd experience them in relation to my own grandson, Rex. Long before he revealed himself as a reincarnate, I sensed that Rex bore burdens and secrets beyond my grasp. I often caught him lost in thought, muttering as if in conversation with an unseen presence, but I never pressed him on it. Rex was undoubtedly unique, even by the standards of a former Fairy, but he wasn't mad. There was something that troubled him, something that I refrained from inquiring about to avoid adding to his complexity.

Five years ago, when Rex expressed his intention to start a guild, it was clear that this ambition was fueled by a deep-seated desperation. His aspirations extended far beyond the guild, hinting at a yearning for more. While I may not possess all-encompassing power, I fervently wished he would share the details with me so I could assist to the best of my abilities. His adamant refusal to provide any information left me feeling a bit hurt, perhaps due to my advancing age. I thought we had an agreement when I allowed him the freedom to explore the world on his own at the age of 10. But the very next day, he began bombarding me with inquiries about the Tower, testing even the patience of someone as understanding as Yajima. Every day, he frustratingly assured me, "I'll inform you when I discover something, Gamgee." As I passed this message on to my son, he would slump in depression, unconsciously clutching his manhood as if fearing it might escape. I knew my grandson too well, and when I questioned him about his obsession with the Tower, I couldn't help but laugh at his claim of wanting to save the villagers out of pure goodness. He wouldn't even divulge where he had first heard of the Tower of Heaven, a classified, taboo magic system used to resurrect the deceased, according to Yajima. It was clear that the Cult of Zeref was involved in these dark affairs.

Despite the apparent impossibility of the task, I continued to relent to Rex as he persistently attempted to venture out in search of this elusive tower. Even the Council, with its extensive network, couldn't uncover any leads, yet my stubborn grandson believed he could find it himself. I couldn't refuse him when I saw the desperation in his eyes, empathizing with his struggles in a way that only a fellow man could understand. So, I struck another deal with him – if he could defeat me in a duel, he would be free to leave and explore Fiore, already strong enough to face its dangers. Instead of gratitude, he bombarded me, a 79-year-old man, with daily requests for a spar. Naturally, I sent him to the clinic each time, insisting that if he couldn't beat me, he was far from ready to confront Ishgar and Earthland's perils. Nevertheless, he persisted, returning slightly stronger after every beating, forcing me to utilize more of my tricks and skills.

About a month ago, I noticed a change in him; he seemed to hold back as if underestimating my abilities. It was as if he believed I had no trump cards of my own, despite having a few hidden up my sleeve. While he might be a war veteran with a unique perspective on life, I'm no slouch either. In war, only the strong can afford to show mercy, and with every defeat, Rex showed that he had not yet reached that level of strength. However, his untapped potential seemed to surpass even Macky's.

In an attempt to escape the chaos of our daily struggles, I began waking up early and heading to the forest clearing in Fangorn, where we usually trained and fought. Ever since Rex entered my life, I've sensed a newfound balance in the synergy of my eternal magical energy and the ambient Ethernano of the outside world. These sparring sessions provided an opportunity for Rex's growth, but they also allowed me to make subtle improvements of my own, albeit not as remarkable as my grandson's rapid development. I can't afford to slack off, considering the looming threat of the Inquisitors Rex told me about. I'm well aware that they will come for Rosemary and Hobbiton in the future, and I must become stronger to protect them. I don't want to rely on Rex; he's already burdened with his own challenges. While he never confirmed my suspicions on the day I found him, tattered but seemingly fine after the bandit incident, I could sense that the blood on his clothes was his, verified through a divination spell. As for his alleged savior who rescued him from the Inquisitor and his pet, 'Tempest,' I couldn't confirm their existence or identity through divination spells. Nevertheless, it's clear that Rex came perilously close to death that day, and I'm determined not to put him in such danger again, especially when I can muster the will to improve and ensure we don't have to depend on him.

As I emerged from my contemplation and prepared to resume my training, my senses were alerted to an incoming presence, which snapped my focus back to the training grounds with a swift, resounding crack. "Ah, here he is again," I remarked, acknowledging the arrival of my troublesome grandson, who undoubtedly had arrived for his daily antics. Right away, it was evident that he was not the same as before. His demeanor exuded confidence, and the way he carried himself showed a newfound seriousness. What caught my attention most was the fact that I couldn't even sense his magical energy, signifying his rapid improvement in control.

Instead of responding to my jest, he demonstrated his intentions through action. In an instant, he transitioned from stillness to an explosive release of pure, unbridled magic energy that left me wide-eyed. This surge rivaled my own output, and I couldn't help but wonder how he had achieved such a feat. Just yesterday, he had been a few steps behind me, and now, not even 24 hours later, he was essentially at my level. It begged the question of whether he had undergone some sort of enlightenment or resorted to a forbidden spell. The former seemed implausible, and the latter was easily discarded; my grandson was not foolish enough to gamble his future for a fleeting burst of power, especially when his life wasn't on the line.

"Grandfather," he began, demonstrating an unusual formality, "I wish to challenge you."

"How polite, brat," I mused. "Very well," I agreed, preparing for the impending combat, "but not right now."

His confident demeanor faltered, and he stumbled, as if slipping on a comical banana peel, his aura dispersing. He questioned, "Why not? Are you afraid of me now, old man? If you surrender, I won't gloat or harm you."

I took a deep breath, reminding myself that, despite not sharing his blood, he was still my beloved grandson. I needed to avoid any rash actions that could lead to conflict within the family. "Breathe, Gamgee, breathe," I told myself. "He may not be your blood, but he's still your adorable grandson. Let's not engage in any filicide." I sighed and inhaled deeply before elaborating, "I'll indulge you after you perform a task for me."

"What do you want, old man?" he retorted rudely, his previous politeness giving way to his usual brash demeanor.

From the folds of my robe, I produced a small envelope sealed with a magical stamp, which I handed to him carefully. In response to his quizzical expression, I explained, "I need you to deliver this to Rosemary and hand it to the village chief."

"Why me, and what's it for?" he inquired.

I opted to address his second question first, saying, "Normally, I would entrust this to any capable adult, but it's been a few years since the cult last attacked. Who knows what schemes they're brewing? It would be unwise to assign this task to someone who can't even defend themselves. As for its contents, it pertains to the cult as well. It's time for our villages to discuss defensive measures, as I sense troubling times ahead."

He nodded in understanding and agreed, "Alright, gramps, leave it to me. But if you go back on your word, I'll just slip away; you can't stop me anymore anyway."

"Just get going, brat," I replied, causing him to sprint back in the direction from which he had come, headed for Rosemary.

------

Rex Gardner:

"Alright, Rex, you can do this. You've waited for five years; what's a few more hours? By this time tomorrow, you'll journey North, locate this Brain individual, and extract the Tower's location from him. Then, you'll uncover where they're holding the Bluebell villagers and use your tickets to free them," I reassured myself as I sped rapidly on Magna's, or rather, my Crazy Cyclone broom towards Rosemary. Earlier, I had told myself I wouldn't use it in public until I changed its appearance, but time was of the essence. The one-hour journey could be completed in a matter of minutes with this contraption, and only a privileged fool would prioritize fashion over functionality.

As Rosemary came into view from a distance, it appeared as a peaceful village, much like our own, with huts and taverns in place of our smials. However, instead of feeling content, a frown crept onto my face as I approached the town at high speed. Its image seemed too idyllic, too artificial from afar. My eyes widened as I zipped through an invisible barrier that briefly manifested itself as I zoomed through it. My shock didn't wane, and what replaced the previous image of a tranquil village was one of destruction. The land and town were in flames, scorched, and bereft of life, except for the occasional lifeless form of some unfortunate villagers. It took only a brief moment for me to connect the dots. "The Cult!" I exclaimed with fury.

I darted around, scanning for any traces or signs of life or their tracks, but found nothing. Just like before, they had managed to transport the villagers, but this time it appeared they hadn't employed a transportation circle. My head snapped back in the direction of my village several kilometers away. I couldn't discern anything from this distance, but even if I could, I wouldn't trust it. I needed to verify the safety of the village with my own eyes.

I channeled my mana into Crazy Cyclone, causing my broom to dash back toward my village, but I abruptly halted my input and paused midair. Descending gently to the ground, I tilted my head to one side, relying on my heightened physical senses after bonding with Vetto. I detected something alive nearby and honed in on it. I turned my attention toward a tavern, one of the few still standing in the village, and, more specifically, to a crate. I could smell the presence of someone and hear a faint, meek sniffle that seemed to belong to a little girl.

I approached the crate slowly, mentally preparing myself for the impending emotional turmoil. With a sigh, I lifted the lid open, and an ear-piercing, banshee-like spell erupted from within, forcing me to cover my ears and step back. Out of the crate, a figure leaped out and attempted to escape. She was dressed in a tattered white shirt, had long purplish hair with bangs, light brown eyes, and wore a bunny-like white headband. She screamed as she desperately ran away, completely unaware of my presence. Annoyed, I used my mana to force her to pause, shouting, "Oi!"

Startled, she abruptly froze and turned to face me. Tears streamed down her face, but they stopped as soon as she realized I wasn't one of the captors. I slowly approached her and tried to console her, saying, "It's alright, I'm not with those bad guys."

"Oh," she responded timidly, "You also managed to escape those guys."

"No," I began, "I'm just a messenger from Hobbiton who came here to deliver a message to your chief." She pointed to a nearby corpse and stated, "That's our chief."

"I see," I replied and inquired, "How did you manage to escape?"

Tears welled up in her eyes again as she sobbed, "A nice red-haired girl put me in there. She said she would rescue my brother from those guys. They called themselves child hunters, and they killed all the adults and captured the kids. That girl got caught because of me."

I needed to comfort her and gather information, so I said, "Give me your hand." She looked at me with confusion before cautiously obeying. I took her slender hand and chanted, "Fire Healing Magic: Soothing Holy Light." Several candles began to float around her, emitting a soothing warmth that healed her minor injuries and calmed her down. I asked, "Feeling better now?"

She nodded frantically, "Y-yes. Is that magic?!"

I simply nodded. She sighed, "If I had known that, I could have saved that girl and my brother."

"Probably," I replied before asking, "Now, can you tell me what happened and who you are?"

She nodded and began to explain, "I'm Kagura Mikazuchi, 8 years old. About two hours ago, a red dome covered the village before disappearing. Then these guys in weird hats and curvy clothes came in and started hunting all the children. They killed all the adults and only went for the kids. They kept saying, 'Hurry up, we have to help the Inquisitors.'"

I nodded and began to ponder the situation. The barrier was similar to the one used on Bluebell, but everything else was different. They were specifically targeting children, which suggested they might be in the final phase of the Tower's construction. Adults were harder to control and please, and if they were in the final phase, they wouldn't need them anymore. Alternatively, they might be conducting experiments and needed children as subjects or sacrifices.

Another crucial piece of information was that they claimed they needed to help the Inquisitors, indicating that the Inquisitors had advanced to Bluebell to confront Gamgee. I began to calculate the odds. Gramps might be able to handle 2 or 3 Inquisitors, but if their numbers exceeded that or if they possessed a trump card on Adonis's level, he would be in serious trouble.

I was broke out of my musing by a familiar noise. 

DING! "Completed Side Quest: 'Meet Kagura' Description: Socialize with Kagura Mikazuchi Reward: Bond Ticket (Rare) x1."

I was taken aback by her reaction and gazed at the girl before me, completely unprepared for this turn of events. She returned my gaze with confusion. This was a unique occurrence, one I hadn't encountered before. Did that mean she was a named character or something? Wait, so Gramps, Adonis, and Tempest were all considered unnamed characters. I sent a few prayers of empathy to my fellow NPCs, although I belonged to that category as well, but at least I was a named one. I shook my head, deciding that this wasn't the right moment to dwell on these thoughts.

"Okay, Kagura," I began, breaking the silence, "I'm going to head to Hobbiton to save my village." Crazy Cyclone began to lift me back into the air.

"Wait!" She shouted, stretching her arm toward me and asking incredulously, "You're just going to leave me here?!"

"Of course not," I responded, giving her a look that suggested she might be lacking in common sense. "Fire Creation Magic: Guiding Light Leopard," I chanted. A ball of fire materialized before her and transformed into a spotted leopard made of flames.

"You'll ride that; it will take you to the village. By the time you get there, everything will be settled," I assured her confidently, though she looked at the fiery cat with apprehension. Sensing her concerns, I added, "Don't worry; it's not hot and won't burn you."

Nervously, she placed her hand on the mana-created creature, visibly shocked when, just as I had promised, the creature seemed to lack any heat. The leopard knelt down, allowing her to climb onto its back. Meanwhile, I accelerated out of sight, heading toward my village.

"You'd better not kick the bucket before I get there, Gramps!" I shouted out as I departed.