The Wild Child in the Grove

"So? Any findings?" Makarov asked casually, glancing sideways at him.

Eleven had been standing there for quite a while, and Makarov seemed to be squinting and nonchalant, but he was actually very anxious.

"Hmm..." Eleven hesitated for a moment, then said somewhat helplessly, "No, apart from that brat over there, I haven't found anything strange."

"Oh, I see. Then let's go back." Makarov was also a little disappointed, but the old man quickly let it go and didn't dwell on the matter of finding the treasure.

However, Eleven was no old man. He was in a terrible mood. Where did his precious baby go? But according to his senses, there was nothing else worth noting within a hundred miles except for a pink-haired bear cub running around and shouting!

"Grandpa, do you think that brat might have picked up the treasure?" Eleven, somewhat unwillingly, following behind Makarov.

"If someone else finds it first, it belongs to them. Don't worry about it, go home." The old man was very magnanimous, giving Eleven a very Zen-like instruction.

"But doesn't that thing have special magic? What if it's some kind of dangerous object? Shouldn't we go check it out?"

Eleven was still somewhat unwilling and continued to try to persuade the old man. He didn't really want to take the brat's things, but he was genuinely curious about what kind of magic even the old man was interested in.

After listening to Eleven's words, Makarov seemed to realize that leaving so easily was not a good idea. After a moment's thought, he nodded. "Alright, let's go take a look then."

"Igneel, where are you?" a little boy with cherry-blossom hair called out from deep within the forest.

The boy looked to be around eleven years old, probably about the same age as Gray. Although it was summer, he wore a strange white scarf around his neck that looked like it was woven from dragon scales.

The boy looked anxious and uneasy, as if he were searching for something. His nose twitched as he sniffed the air, and he kept calling out the name "Igneel".

The boy woke up this morning to find himself in this unfamiliar forest, a place he had never been before. Igneel had always been by his side since childhood, was nowhere to be seen, not even a trace of his scent. No matter how he called out to him, there was no response.

At this moment, the boy was like an abandoned wild animal cub, constantly making his own sounds, calling out for his parents, lonely and helpless.

Suddenly, there was a rustling sound from the bushes behind him. The boy looked back alertly and saw that his right fist had suddenly burst into flames.

Two strange figures emerged from the bushes. A gray-haired boy stared in astonishment at the flames burning on the boy's hand, his brow twitching occasionally as if imagining how painful it would be to have his hand on fire.

The other person was an unusually short old man, shorter than the eleven-year-old boy, but he looked at the boy with a kind and benevolent expression, as if he had discovered something good.

"Who, who are you people?" The boy waved the flame in his hand, looking nervously at Eleven and Makarov.

When Eleven saw the boy brandishing his fiery fist, his brow twitched again, and he couldn't help but ask, "Your hand's on fire, doesn't it hurt?"

"Hmph, of course it won't hurt. This is my own flame! Dragon scales can melt flames, and dragon claws can catch them. Flames can't hurt me."

The boy was clearly a bit of a scatterbrain; he not only followed Eleven's bizarre thought process but also smugly rattled off a bunch of nonsensical things.

"Wow, that's amazing! So you're a mage too?" Eleven didn't really understand what the little boy was saying, but the mention of dragons and scales gave him a sense of awe and wonder.

"Of course, I'm very strong!" The boy's face showed a proud expression.

"Oh... by the way, have you seen a big treasure?" Eleven, who was originally planning to continue listening to the little boy's boasting, suddenly remembered something more important and quickly asked.

"No, what big treasure?" the little boy asked, looking puzzled.

Makarov, listening to the conversation between these two idiots, felt a headache coming on. He couldn't understand how these two little guys had the leisure to chat. When he saw the flame in the little boy's hand and heard what he said, he was already shocked.

"Child, what's your name? Are you Dragon Slayer?" Makarov interrupted Eleven's rambling and couldn't help but ask.

"Ah, my name is Natsu, Natsu Dragonneel, I'm the Fire Dragon Slayer Mage." Natsu seemed genuinely guileless, answering every question directly, and even gave a silly grin afterward.

Makarov stared at the child before him in silence for a long time. This was the first time he had ever seen Dragon Slayer other than Laxus, and he could clearly sense that the nature of the child's magic was somewhat different from Laxus's.

Unlike Laxus, who became Dragon Slayer by relying on a dragon's magic crystal, this child may be a true Dragon Slayer, the true possessor of the ancient super magic that was taught by dragons in legend.

This little rascal is a treasure in himself!

Makarov remained silent, Natsu, upon hearing the mention of Dragon Slayer Magic, suddenly seemed to remember something and his expression turned anxious. "By the way, have you seen Igneel?"

"Who is Igneel?" Eleven asked instinctively.

"Igneel is my father. He disappeared when I woke up this morning," Natsu said with a mournful face, completely devoid of the smugness he had shown earlier when boasting about his magic.

"I see." Eleven looked at Natsu's distress and understood perfectly, but still shook his head helplessly. "I'm sorry, we didn't see anyone. There's no one else around here besides you."

"Igneel isn't human!" Natsu looked up, a hint of pride in his eyes. "Igneel is a dragon."

"But we didn't see the dragon either!" Eleven shrugged helplessly.

"Oh, I see..." Natsu looked disappointed.

Makarov, who was standing to the side, was almost dying of discomfort listening to the two talking. When he heard that Natsu's father was actually a dragon, he was even more shocked beyond measure.

However, this crucial point was glossed over by that brat Eleven, and now he's too embarrassed to ask again, otherwise it would seem like he, at his age, is less composed than a kid.

Fortunately, Eleven had also come to his senses by this time. He stared intently at Natsu and asked curiously, "Your father is a dragon, are you a dragon too? Do you have a tail?"

Natsu shook his head after hearing this, not angry, but rather a little disappointed. "I'm not a dragon, I'm human. Igneel adopted me and then taught me Dragon Slayer Magic."