Three days later, Fairy Tail's front gate was alive with movement.
Rowan stood at the center of the courtyard with Gildarts, Jellal, Laxus, Erza, Minerva, and every other guild member who could stand toe-to-toe with an S-Class mage. Mavis and Anna hovered quietly nearby.
Makarov folded his arms, forcing a calm smile as he saw them off.
Natsu bounced on his heels, barely containing himself.
"So what's the plan?" he blurted out. "We sail to the western continent, sneak into the palace, and—boom—confront Zeref?"
Rowan didn't answer.
Instead, he reached into thin air and pulled out something no bigger than his palm.
It looked like a toy ship.
He flicked it upward.
The object expanded in midair, unfolding into plates of gold and glowing runes. In seconds, it became a massive dragon-shaped airship, its metallic wings stretching wide, its body gleaming like molten sunlight.
The courtyard fell silent.
"…No sneaking," Rowan said casually. "We're Fairy Tail. We knock on the front door."
The dragon-shaped vessel descended slowly and settled in front of them with a deep metallic hum.
"This is the Golden Dragon," Rowan continued. "Our guild transport."
He'd built it during downtime while researching Fairy Sphere, combining alchemy, rune engineering, and spellcraft from multiple worlds.
It could turn invisible.
It carried its own consciousness.
It had layered defensive barriers strong enough to ignore most siege spells.
Its internal space was far larger than it looked.
And it could change size at will.
Fairy Tail wasn't riding trains and wagons anymore.
The sculpted golden dragon along the hull stirred.
Its eyes lit up.
"Golden Dragon acknowledges its master."
The head lowered toward Rowan in a slow, respectful bow.
"…The ship talks?" Lucy whispered.
Everyone stared.
They'd already seen Rowan mass-produce enchanted gear and teleportation keys over the past few days, but this crossed into absurd.
Rowan smiled faintly.
"His name is Golden Dragon. Treat him like a guildmate, not a vehicle. You'll feel less seasick."
He glanced pointedly at Natsu, Laxus, and Gajeel.
"And if that doesn't work, there are gravity-neutral rooms inside."
He'd designed those specifically for Dragon Slayers. Floating environments with spatial distortion spells that prevented motion sickness entirely.
Golden Dragon extended a boarding ramp.
Everyone climbed aboard.
Rowan stepped onto the prow and raised a paw.
"Golden Dragon. Set course west."
Runes flared.
Wind barriers snapped into place.
The vessel surged forward, turning into a streak of gold against the sky.
They crossed the ocean in a single day.
By sunset, the western continent's coastline appeared on the horizon.
But the moment they crossed into its airspace, multiple warships rose to meet them.
Black steel hulls.
Long cannon barrels.
Imperial markings.
"This is Alvarez airspace," a voice boomed through a speaker array. "Identify yourselves immediately."
Rowan sighed and layered a massive amplification spell onto his voice.
"Rowan Mercer. Guild master of Fairy Tail, from the eastern continent. I request an audience with Emperor Spriggan. This concerns Acnologia."
The words rolled across the sky, carried by magic far beyond the horizon.
He wasn't here to waste time.
Fairy Tail.
Acnologia.
Those two names alone should be enough to reach Zeref's ears.
The lead warship's commander went pale.
"The eastern continent dares send a mage guild into our territory?" he snarled. "You're courting death!"
He raised his arm.
"Seize them and escort them to the capital. The Grand Chancellor will decide their fate!"
The warships opened fire.
Blazing lances of magic slammed into Golden Dragon.
A massive glowing array unfolded beneath the hull.
The impacts vanished without a ripple.
Not even a tremor.
Natsu cracked his knuckles.
"Can I hit them now?"
Rowan waved him down.
"Don't bother. They can't scratch us."
A shimmering sigil of interlocking geometries rotated around the ship.
"Fivefold Cabala Defense Field online."
The imperial fleet stopped firing.
Their commander stared at the untouched barrier.
Inside the ship, Rowan conjured a long table.
Food appeared.
Wine.
Roast meat.
Desserts.
"Sit," he said. "We wait."
They ate.
They drank.
They chatted.
Outside, the imperial fleet hovered in tense silence.
An hour later, a new presence entered Rowan's senses.
A massive warship approached, nearly as large as Golden Dragon itself.
Its magic pressure was heavy.
Dense.
Ancient.
Rowan stood.
"…Now that's someone worth talking to."
The vessel stopped directly in front of them.
The boarding bridge extended.
An elderly mage stepped out, his long white hair tied back, imperial armor etched with high-rank insignia.
His magic power rolled outward like a stormfront.
Rowan narrowed his eyes.
"…Not Zeref."
But close enough to be interesting.