"Erza! Are you sure this is alright?!"
Gray's expression twisted—wasn't this basically guaranteed to expose everything to Marco?!
Even if they had tried their best to hide it, Marco would probably have seen through them eventually.
But now, without even pretending, weren't they just outright admitting the truth?!
"If you still want to return, then step on Natsu."
Erza didn't answer his question, speaking with absolute seriousness instead.
Without hesitation, Gray, Lucy, and Happy all stepped onto Natsu's back.
To hesitate even slightly would have been disrespectful to Erza.
Natsu, unconscious on the ground, expressed no objections—his current condition was perfectly fine.
"Marco, it's about time. We're going back now."
Looking at Marco, Erza spoke, a hint of melancholy in her voice.
But she didn't waver.
Seeing the younger version of Marco had been amusing, but she knew this was just a small detour—a little story she could share with him when they returned.
It was only then that Erza suddenly realized—she, Natsu, and the others… might not even remember this event.
But what about Marco? He definitely would!
At this thought, Erza's gaze sharpened instantly.
She stared at the smiling young Marco and suddenly found his grin utterly infuriating.
This guy had really kept everything to himself—not even told them a single hint!
Of course, while she found Marco a little detestable for it, she also admired him all the more.
Truly, Marco—he could actually keep something bottled up without uttering a word to them.
"Go back. Return to your own time." Marco waved at them with a smile, bidding them farewell.
He found this whole experience quite interesting.
Meeting the future version of his friends, hearing snippets about the future—it was all novel and rare, a delightful little adventure in life.
Marco didn't want to change anything because of it, nor would he let it change him.
He didn't pry about the future because, from Erza, Natsu, Gray—even Lucy and Happy—he hadn't sensed any urgency to alter the past.
Wasn't that a good thing?
If the future was already so wonderful, what was there to change?
"So, go back without worries." Marco spoke again—this was his promise.
He would keep this secret, as if they had never come at all.
Until they all grew up.
Until Erza, Natsu, Gray, Lucy, and Happy brought it up themselves.
He would protect this future that everyone was satisfied with.
A ripple of magic surged, time and space trembling violently.
"Marco! Be nicer to me—teach me Diamond Dust Fist! I really want to learn it! I just never said it!"
"Marco! I still want to be called Happy!"
"Marco! Don't you dare kill off Holmes!"
"What? What happened to Marco? Why are you stepping on me?!"
Amidst the intense magical fluctuations, the figures of Erza and the others gradually twisted and disappeared, accompanied by a cacophony of shouts.
Along with it, a magic book was suddenly thrown out.
"Memory days." Marco froze for a moment as he looked at the book in his hand.
"Erza, is this how you express your resolve? That determination to preserve a future so beautiful it needs no alteration?"
Marco chuckled, patting the magic book in his hand.
This book was Erza's resolve, and also her unconditional trust in him.
Leaving this book behind meant the future Erza and the others could no longer come back, could no longer use it to alter the past.
Leaving it also meant Erza believed he would never misuse it, never attempt to change events further back in time.
"Don't worry, Erza. I won't betray this trust." Marco made his decision.
He would keep this book safe, only bringing it out when the time was right.
"Though I'm afraid Gray and Lucy will be disappointed. Since you've already shouted it out, there's no way I'm voluntarily teaching that Diamond Dust Fist now. And Holmes will have to die once."
Thinking back to Gray and Lucy's shouts before they left, Marco shook his head helplessly.
Truth be told, even if he wanted to teach the Diamond Dust Fist now, he couldn't.
He'd only just grasped the basics himself, with a beginner proficiency—hardly something worth showing off.
As for Holmes, Marco still planned to proceed with the magical modifications step by step.
A fake death was still necessary.
He wasn't afraid of people sending him hate mail or bullets—what? did they think his Celestial Spirit Magic-enhanced fists weren't hard enough?
"Marco! I brought help!"
Just as Marco was about to turn and head home, Natsu's voice rang out.
Marco looked towards the source of the sound.
Natsu was in a frantic hurry, trailing behind him was a drunken little old man—the kid had dragged Makarov along.
"Wha... what's wrong? Marco, are you in trouble?"
Makarov was thoroughly drunk, a bottle still clutched in his hand, swaying unsteadily on his feet, but he'd come anyway.
"It's already handled. I took care of it." Marco waved his hand, signaling that help wasn't needed anymore.
His gaze shifted to Natsu, noticing the numerous wounds covering the boy.
"Natsu... what happened to you?" Marco asked curiously.
How did the one who went to get help end up so battered?
"Uh..." Natsu scratched his head awkwardly.
Marco could see injuries even on his neck, looking suspiciously like they came from a fall.
"He was in such a hurry, he kept tripping over himself." Makarov took a swig from his bottle, explaining on behalf of the embarrassed Natsu.
Hearing Makarov's words, Marco's expression turned complicated.
He reached out and ruffled Natsu's hair, speaking with a mix of exasperation and affection.
"You idiot... have a little more faith in your Aniki."
Seeing Natsu covered in wounds from rushing to get help, Marco was filled with guilt.
He shouldn't have made the situation sound so dire—he'd forgotten just how recklessly Natsu would throw himself into danger for his friends.
"Those guys were terrifying..." Natsu scratched his head, his face still showing lingering fear.
He didn't think his fall was particularly bad, nor did he feel much pain.
Injuries were practically routine for him.
To save Marco, he wouldn't mind getting hurt even worse.
What happened today had left a deep shadow in Natsu's heart.
Those two terrifying monsters and Marco, who had told him to run while staying behind alone to hold them off—all of it was firmly etched in his memory.
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