The shadow of loss still lingered in Fairy Tail's halls. Lisanna's absence was a wound none could forget. Mira's bright smile masked a well of sorrow—one that only deepened every year when she spent the whole day by her sister's grave. Makarov's heart ached each time he saw Mira's quiet transformation, and he blamed himself for not protecting the family he loved.
Yet life moved forward.
Mira blossomed into a beacon of light—an idol embraced by the Magic Weekly, a symbol of hope and joy. But Escanor, watching from the sidelines, knew the price she paid. The silent weight of grief bound them both, bringing them closer without words.
But Escanor's own body betrayed him.
After the triumphant S-Class exam, something began to change. His legendary Sun Magic—once fueled by abundant nature's magic—now demanded far more than mere absorption. It was as if his magic source had become a bottomless pit.
He consulted Makarov, but the Master was as baffled as he.
Then came the Wyvern quest—the near-dragon whose magical bloodline and power eclipsed nearly all beasts. Escanor paid dearly: bruised, exhausted, drained.
As he rested, the magic around him pulsed unnaturally.
His body no longer merely absorbed magic—it devoured it.
Nearby, the Wyvern's lifeless form began to shrink, its flesh and bone dissolving into shimmering dust, drawn like fuel into Escanor's endless hunger.
The magic around him surged, an invisible vortex threatening any living being who came close.
Escanor's body was becoming a magic vacuum, devouring anything magical—living or dead.
Panic drove him back to the Guild.
He found Makarov and demonstrated the terrifying drain by clasping the old man's hand—almost immediately sapping the Master's magic entirely.
Makarov's face went pale, stumbling as if struck.
"This… this is unprecedented. I have never seen magic devouring so uncontrollably. You must stop using your magic at once, Escanor. This endangers not only yourself but everyone nearby."
Escanor nodded, reluctantly agreeing to retreat from all missions.
Days turned to weeks.
Escanor secluded himself in the back mountain, forbidden ground for Guild members.
But Mira and Erza, unable to bear the silence, defied orders to check on him.
"You shouldn't have come here," Escanor warned.
With hesitant voices, he revealed his curse.
Their shocked gasps were swallowed by the mountain air.
"We don't care if you can't fight. We'll support you—always," Erza vowed.
"My magic income is enough to support us all," Mira added, fierce.
Escanor smiled bitterly but welcomed their presence.
One quiet night, a familiar figure appeared—Ultear, graceful and coy.
"Darling, I found something in the Master's library—cases like yours," she whispered, slipping into his arms.
Escanor closed his eyes, heart pounding despite his magic silence.
Ultear's voice lowered, telling of an ancient era—the Great Magic Era, when men could become gods.
"One figure stands out—Ankhseram, once human, who became a god by devouring the souls of Magi to satisfy his endless magic hunger."
Escanor's body tensed.
"You mean I must become like him?"
Ultear smiled slyly.
"No, I would never let you become a murderer. But Ankhseram's magic was soul-based. Maybe the medium for devouring magic must match the magic source itself."
Escanor's breath caught.
"My magic source is the Sun…"
Ultear winked.
"Exactly, Darling. The clue is clear."
Escanor's eyes gleamed with newfound resolve.
"The Sun is my foundation. I think I understand what I must do."
Ultear planted a soft kiss on his cheek.
"I knew you'd figure it out, my strongest one."
As she disappeared into the night, Escanor stood alone, gazing at the stars.
"Perhaps... I have touched upon something extraordinary."