Latest Update: Nay 5, 2023
Summary: Under the weight of the latest damage report (and subsequent bill), Makarov decides that it's finally time to retire as Guild Master and (forcibly) appoint a successor. Mystogan will never know what hit him.
Link: https://m.fanfiction.net/s/13684475/1/The-Fourth-Of-Jellal
Word count:29k
Chapters:15
Chapter 1
Makarov was done. He'd had it. It was the proverbial straw that broke the Vulcan's back.
It, of course, meaning…
Damage reports.
Now, damage reports were nothing new in Fairy Tail. It was a time honored tradition in Fairy Tail to cause as much destruction as humanly (and sometimes inhumanly) possible, harkening all the way back to Mavis's tenure as Guild Master. Although back in those days, the Magic Council hadn't existed. Not as it currently did, at any rate. No, the Magic Council and all of its itinerant laws and regulations and god-blasted fines had come into being sometime during Precht's instatement. Which he had then seen fit to bequeath unto Makarov. Having been a baby at the time of the First's reign, Makarov wasn't completely certain how Mavis had balanced the destructive nature of her guild with the amount of complaints she no doubt received, but he oh did he know how to deal with the Magic Council's particular brand of bureaucratic pedantry.
Namely, the miles and miles of stacks of paper that landed itself on his desk day after day like clockwork. Makarov could set his watch to the regularly deliveries of some of the complaints. He was starting to suspect that his guild constituted a good eighty to ninety percent of Magnolia's postal work and kept its post office in a steady supply of revenue and work.
It was little wonder that Precht had dumped it off on Makarov and left to traverse the world. Warrod had seen the writing on the wall and had managed to vacate the premises ahead of Precht's own departure, the absolute bastard. Makarov had known something was up when he was suddenly named Guild Master of the guild his father had founded with his friends, but by the time he realized what an actual pain running the place was, Precht was long gone and the paperwork just kept coming.
There was a special place in hell reserved for the person who came up with the notion that forms needed to be signed in triplicate, and Makarov intended to personally see to it that person got there on the express line if he ever so much as got the barest sliver of an opportunity to do so.
Furthermore, it seemed as if the paperwork had somehow managed to gain sentience and reproduce like rabbits as of late. Although an alarming occurrence, it was no great wonder as to how that that had occurred. Makarov blamed the current generation in particular for his personal hell full of paperwork and misplaced staplers and dried out pens. It seemed as if each successive generation of Fairy Tail young 'ins nudged the bar on destructiveness just a little bit higher. Until now, where the bar had been blown sky high to the point it had escaped Earthland's gravity entirely and potentially the solar system (if Makarov could physically feel a spark of envy towards a metaphor, he would for this one). These kiddos could put gray into a young man's hair, to say nothing of the sham that sat upon Makarov's head. He'd once had long, beautifully spiky blond locks. They hadn't lasted long after he took on the mantle of Guild Master. Gods above, how he missed his hair.
Like with destruction, though, Fairy Tail had always taken in the outsiders of magical society. Mavis's beloved little orphans, so to speak. It wasn't until Makarov became Guild Master that he made the statement literal. And as Fairy Tail's reputation for devastation increased, so it attracted more and more troublemakers from other legal (and sometimes not) guilds. Of course, Fairy Tail had accepted them all because that was what Fairy Tail did. Perhaps that had been, in some way or form, some kind of error. Because now Porlyusica had him on the books for yearly surgery on carpal tunnel he hadn't actually developed just yet, but would probably sooner than later.
The paperwork had destroyed not only his body, though, but also his relationship with his family. His mistress was paperwork, and oh boy did his family not like competing with the bitch for his attention. His wife had left him. His son went dark wizard on him. And now his grandson had grown into a colossal asshole.
It also guzzled money like a drowning man did water. Not just for damages and reparations, but also in fees and replacing furniture and other guild property lost to the constant, near daily brawling. It was honestly a miracle that the guild had managed to remain in business as long as it had. Luckily the clients knew what they were getting into when they posted their requests at Fairy Tail, but still.
But now. Now. Makarov had finally hit his limit on the amount of bullshit he could endure.
Because sitting in front of him was an innocuous looking report, delivered by express bird early that morning, marked Urgent and Return Service Requested. That never boded well for Makarov's day, but this time it had entailed something that not even he been prepared for.
For Erza Scarlet… had destroyed a mountain.
It was just. Just straight up gone. Wiped off the map entirely. The entire thing.
Makarov was too old for this.
"I quit," he announced to his empty office. "I'm done. No more. The next guild master can handle this." He believed in his children. One of them could definitely handle this mess better than he could. Makarov was in his nineties, for gods' sake. His heart was bad enough without… this.
It had been put off long enough. It was time to hand… no, chuck the torch at the next unsuspecting moron to want the job. Actually, even if they didn't want the job, it was now theirs.
The only question was: who. Who to saddle with the future of the Fairy Tail guild.
That the next master be S-Class was a given. It had been decided long ago, and it wasn't really a condition that Makarov could change. Also, the idiots would riot if he didn't pick from that group. What was the point of surviving that nightmarish trial over and over again if the potential title of Guild Master didn't come with it? So it had to be one of them.
Gildarts was out from the get-go. Makarov wanted to resign immediately, and since he had no way of telling when the man would next deign to appear, he was eliminated from consideration.
Laxus? Makarov supposed that his grandson had enough raw power to keep the troublemakers in line, but he had a rather nasty, cruel, arrogant streak to go along with it. He'd be a tyrant. But also, he was not there. He was out on a job, if Makarov was remembering correctly.
It would be some kind of poetic justice if he made Erza the next guild master. She'd have to clean up her own mess. Which was very tempting, but also the letter had reported that she was tied up with the Rune Knights at the moment being questioned thoroughly over the incident, so she was also rather conveniently not present at the guild.
There was always Mystogan, Makarov supposed. He'd always been quiet, and prone to putting people to sleep rather than interacting with them but that wouldn't really pose a problem once he was locked up inside the office as a slave to the paperwork gods. Then again, he was also not at the guild at the moment, and who knew when he'd be back.
Which left… Mirajane. Ah, Mirajane. The only balm in Makarov's life. Once one of the worst of the troublemakers, she was his veritable deputy guild master already in all but name. She'd be the best suited to handling the affairs of the guild. Sure, she no longer had her magic, but she generally had the respect of most of the members. Even Laxus would be hard pressed to complain about the choice of Mirajane as Guild Master.
But as luck would have it... Mirajane, too, was not present today. It was her only day off of the week.
And Makarov was rather vehement that it be today that he resigned his post. The only paperwork he ever intended to fill out ever again would be the leadership transfer document. Which he was mostly finished with, and just required the name of the new appointee to complete. That, and a stamp for the quickest delivery Magnolia's postal office could manage.
Well, then. That decided it for him. He would go downstairs, and wait.
Whichever S-Class wizard next walked in those doors would be made Guild Master on the spot. They had no choice in the matter.
It took a few hours of waiting at the barmaid-less bar, but when Makarov suddenly felt intense drowsiness creeping along his senses, he started to grin ear to ear even as several guild members dropped to the floor like toast buttered side down.
Makarov had found his victim.
He wished Mystogan all the best in his new position as Fairy Tail's Fourth Guild Master.
He really, really did.
Link: https://m.fanfiction.net/s/13684475/1/The-Fourth-Of-Jellal