As Mira continued speaking over the communication Lacrima, Makarov's smug, self-satisfied grin didn't just fade—it vanished. His face drained of color. Cold sweat dotted his forehead. His hands began to tremble as if the words themselves carried a curse.
By the time Mira finished her report—
Thud!
Makarov slid cleanly off his chair and collapsed onto the floor.
The surrounding guild masters gasped and hurried over. The Master of Fairy Tail was nearly ninety years old; if he suffered a heart attack in the middle of a regional meeting, it would become a catastrophe for the entire legal guild system.
"Makarov!"
"What happened?! Speak to us—are you alright?!"
Makarov lay flat on his back, eyes wide, heart pounding with pure, undiluted panic.
It's over, he thought, staring at the ceiling like it had betrayed him. Why? Why are those two together again? Kael and Erza… if they move as a pair, they won't just break a few walls. They'll erase the city and argue about who started it.
"The meeting… ends today…" Makarov whimpered, mostly to himself. "I'll go back tomorrow. Please. Please let the world remain intact until then. I'm begging you."
Bob, Master of Blue Pegasus, blinked and leaned closer. "Makarov… that Kael you keep boasting about… he's that child, isn't he? The one everyone whispers about."
Goldmine, Master of Quatro Cerberus, stiffened as realization struck. "Wait. You mean that one?!"
Makarov gave a weak, miserable nod. "Yes… that brat."
Bob and Goldmine were Makarov's oldest friends. These meetings weren't only about policy—they were also where old masters bragged about their "kids." And Makarov, with his big mouth, had spent half the morning piling up Kael's accomplishments like trophies.
Truthfully, he didn't need to boast. Over the past months, Kael had been tied to multiple incidents that sent tremors through Ishgar. Only the Council's quiet handling kept the public from learning his name—or his guild.
"Must be nice," Bob sighed, genuine envy slipping into his voice. "I'd give anything for a youngster like that."
Goldmine grunted. "You don't 'find' a monster like that by luck. You invite trouble and somehow survive long enough to call it talent."
Several other masters couldn't help feeling a sting of jealousy. Fairy Tail caused endless chaos, but their raw strength was undeniable. Six S-Class mages—each one a powerhouse.
And Kael… Kael sat in a category that made even veteran masters uneasy.
Just then—
Bang!
The doors flew open, and a messenger sprinted into the hall, breathing hard and pale as paper.
"Masters! News—urgent news!"
"What now?" someone snapped, patience already thin.
"The train heading toward this city was hijacked by the dark guild, Eisenwald!"
"Eisenwald?" a master scoffed. "Those hyenas are still crawling around?"
"Holding up a train? What were they thinking?"
Eisenwald had once been a legal guild, until they were expelled for taking assassination contracts. Since then, they'd lingered as a thorn along the routes—small enough to be ignored most days, vicious enough to be dangerous when provoked.
Goldmine leaned forward. "So what happened? Did the Rune Knights intercept them?"
Using ordinary troops against mages was pointless, and Eisenwald's leader—Erigor, the so-called "Shinigami"—was no amateur. In a direct clash, some of the masters in this room might not walk away unscathed.
The messenger shook his head violently. "No! The Rune Knights didn't even arrive in time. Eisenwald was taken down… by one person."
"One person?!"
"You're saying a single wizard crushed the whole guild?"
The hall erupted in disbelief.
Makarov, however, felt a tiny—tiny—spark of hope. One person? Then maybe it wasn't Kael and Erza together. Maybe Erza is still in bed. Maybe Kael is asleep. Maybe the world is—
"The reports say the scene was horrific," the messenger continued, shivering. "Almost every Eisenwald mage was found unconscious or crippled. The train itself… was pulverized. The engine was discovered hundreds of meters away in the forest—like someone grabbed it and threw it."
"Enough," someone barked. "Who did it? Stop dancing around it!"
The messenger swallowed. "The attacker vanished before authorities arrived. But the captured Eisenwald members and nearby witnesses kept screaming one name. They called him… the Tyrant."
"The Tyrant?!"
The room went cold.
That name had become the underworld's favorite nightmare—famous for a rumored one-versus-ten-thousand massacre of the Lokas Bandit Army.
Thud!!
Makarov, who had only just hauled himself back into his chair, face-planted again.
"Makarov!"
"Get a healer—he's collapsing!"
Makarov lay on the floor, soul halfway out of his body.
It's over. My career. My retirement. My savings… it's all gone.
Magic Council Headquarters: ERA
Slam!
"Fairy Tail! Again!" Councilor Org roared, slamming a stack of reports onto the round table. "Wasn't leveling half of Hargeon enough for one month? Now they've obliterated a state-funded train! They are lawless—absolutely lawless!"
Councilor Yajima, Makarov's longtime friend, cleared his throat carefully. "Now, now, Org. They stopped an Eisenwald terrorist action. That point matters."
"Stopping criminals doesn't give them permission to demolish infrastructure," Councilor Michello snapped, face flushed. "Dark guilds exist across the continent. Does Fairy Tail have to cause a natural disaster every time they 'help'?"
Trains were the arteries of the economy—and replacing one wasn't just costly. It was politically humiliating.
"The greater concern is Lullaby," another councilor said grimly.
To the Council, Eisenwald was an annoyance—dangerous, yes, but manageable. Lullaby was something else entirely: a forbidden relic tied to Zeref.
"Agreed," another nodded. "We cannot allow the Black Wizard's artifacts to roam freely in this era."
"What I find most disturbing," one member murmured, "is that such a high-priority sealed item was stolen under our watch. If blame is assigned honestly… it begins with our security."
The room fell quiet.
Lullaby had been under the Council's protection. Its theft was a scandal—one that would land on ERA's doorstep, not Fairy Tail's.
Siegrain leaned back, fingers steepled, his expression unreadable. At last, he spoke—smooth as polished glass.
"Perhaps we should thank the guild we so often criticize. Fairy Tail saved our reputations today."
Nearby, Ultear—standing in the shadow of the chamber—covered a faint smile with her sleeve.
"To dismantle an entire dark guild single-handedly," she murmured softly, voice almost amused, "as expected of the Tyrant. He really is… fascinating."
The Council didn't flinch at the title. Titles were for the public. They knew exactly who that name pointed to.
Siegrain continued, tone calm, almost clinical. "Whether you like Fairy Tail or not, if Lullaby's song had reached that regional meeting, every guild master present would be dead. The resulting vacuum would invite chaos across Fiore—perhaps all of Ishgar. For once, set aside pride. Offer a word of acknowledgment."
Silence followed.
For the Magic Council, praising Fairy Tail felt like swallowing needles.
But no one at the table could deny the truth.