Upon hearing this, Gray immediately chose to give up.
Since he wasn't professionally trained in this field, it would mean starting from scratch, likely requiring an enormous amount of time.
With only a handful of "Ancient Wimpera Language Magic" spells existing, the effort simply didn't justify the potential rewards.
This, he realized, was precisely why so few were willing to study "Ancient Wimpera Language Magic," and why Gran Doma was unwilling to allocate funds for its research—the returns were truly too meager.
"Karel, document all your research findings."
Marco issued the command, instructing Karel to compile their research results before they could be sent off to prison.
These individuals, who possessed abilities capable of causing "chaos" and whose unstable minds had already led them to commit destruction, were certainly not people Marco would allow to roam free.
"Finally, this matter is resolved."
Erza let out a sigh of relief.
The Exchange Magic had terrified her—after all, she had nearly been forced to live in Happy's body.
She genuinely never wanted to experience anything like that again!
Now that the masterminds were captured and it was confirmed that this ability was both obscure and extremely difficult to master, with very few capable of learning it, Erza felt immensely relieved.
"We must hold a celebration feast!"
The younger members erupted in excitement, buzzing like a stirred hornet's nest.
Natsu, particularly thrilled, leaped onto a table, instantly launching the party phase.
"Alright! Let's feast! All expenses covered by me!"
Marco laughed heartily, planting one foot on a nearby stool as he shouted to the boisterous crowd.
Since nearly everyone had participated in this incident, working together to capture the enemies, it was truly worth celebrating.
"Woo-hoo!"
"Fantastic!"
The group erupted into deafening cheers, all electrified with excitement.
They loved throwing parties and reveling in such lively atmospheres.
The guild hall quickly descended into full-blown chaos. Tables and chairs were hastily shoved aside, while food and drinks flowed forth in an endless stream.
The sizzle of dripping meat fat hitting charcoal filled the air, golden beer foam spilled over mug rims, and the scent of roasted meat and ale permeated the space.
Lively melodies began to play, some clapping tabletops or stomping feet to the rhythm.
The clinking of mugs, laughter, shouts, and singing intertwined, transforming the guild hall into a sea of jubilation.
The pressure that had weighed on them these past few days vanished completely.
Already in high spirits, everyone indulged in merry chaos, determined to cast off all the tension and stress they'd accumulated.
Marco settled back at the counter, leaning against it with a frothy beer in hand, smiling as he watched his comrades revel unrestrainedly.
His crow had already carried the message to the city hall, and soon officials would arrive to escort the criminals away.
The prison in "Magnolia" was naturally less secure than those of the "Magic Council."
Convention dictated that Mages should be handed over to the "Magic Council" for trial—even locally captured Mages required transfer, as the city hall lacked jurisdiction for such judgments.
Consequently, "Magnolia" had no specialized prison for detaining Mages.
But with Marco present, things were different.
As the "Duke of Rose," his control over this fiefdom was exceptionally strong.
When he wanted to judge and imprison mages, neither the locals nor local forces would oppose him, and the Magic Council wouldn't interfere either.
Since it was just one city and not a nationwide policy, the Magic Council turned a blind eye.
Privileged individuals existed everywhere—this was hardly surprising.
However, what Marco encountered first wasn't the police from the city hall coming to collect anyone.
Creeeak.
The heavy door let out a drawn-out groan as it slowly swung open, revealing a tall figure standing outside.
He carried several magic staves on his back, his face covered, with only a few strands of blue hair visible.
"Mystogan?!"
Everyone in the guild was astonished.
This elusive "S-Class Mage" had shown up quite unexpectedly, right in the middle of their banquet.
Some immediately changed their expressions, preparing to assume sleeping positions, as Mystogan always hypnotized them whenever he returned, only releasing the spell when he left.
"Marco! I've succeeded in my research!"
This time, however, Mystogan didn't hypnotize anyone.
As soon as he pushed the door open, he locked eyes with Marco and exclaimed excitedly.
"Oh?! You finally did it?!"
Mystogan's words made Marco leap to his feet.
He hurried over to Mystogan and stared at the small vial in his hand.
"Is this it?" Marco asked, unable to see anything particularly special about the small pill.
"That's right! Just swallow this pill, and you'll be able to use magic in Edolas!" Mystogan declared loudly, his excitement palpable.
Everyone heard this, and for a moment, they forgot about eating, all of them starting to chatter among themselves.
Marco had previously visited Edolas and had shared his experiences with everyone afterward.
They had long been anticipating this day.
During the large mobilization for the "Tower of Paradise" incident, many had thought they were heading to Edolas.
"Does that mean we can go to the world of Edolas now?!" Natsu exclaimed excitedly.
He had been eager to see it for himself—to defeat the so-called Royal Army, help Mystogan claim his throne, and of course, meet the "Fairy Tail" of Edolas and see another version of himself.
"Exactly! We can start taking action now!" Mystogan announced, his voice filled with excitement and fervor.
And this was only natural.
Having been in this world for seven years, Mystogan had been waiting for this very moment.
He needed everyone's help to put an end to the recurring tragedies once and for all.
As for the "throne," Mystogan didn't care much about it.
His only focus now was to completely eradicate the "Anima" and prevent more people from being converted into magical power.
"Good! Let's get moving!" Marco gave Mystogan a firm pat on the shoulder.
Of course, he supported Mystogan—after all, this had been his idea in the first place.
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