Night spread like a vast disk, starlight glittering above.
The rotating satellite released beams of light. Magic power surged like crashing tides, condensing under guidance into a human figure—the form of Natsu Dragneel.
"You're back," Yajima immediately approached, awe in his voice at the godlike methods Natsu now displayed. Anxious yet expectant, he asked, "Is it resolved?"
"More or less," Natsu nodded. "The upper ranks of Grimoire Heart and Tartaros have been eliminated. But what comes next is the real challenge."
Sensing the dozens of new figure-templates added to the Seven Realms Sigil, Natsu confirmed the outcome.
"Wait—how did you even find their headquarters so quickly?" Yajima stepped in to block him, questions burning in his mind.
"Chronostasis can monitor the entire world of Earthland. It isn't just a tool for research or a weapon of deterrence. If you want to locate people like them, all you need is to monitor the flow of magic power," Natsu explained casually.
Yajima blinked, stunned.
"Um… could you explain that in more detail?"
"…A mage's internal magic slightly disturbs the natural circulation of atmospheric magic. The greater the magic within, the greater the effect on circulation. Of course, a single individual can't meaningfully affect overall flow." Natsu gave him a slightly strange look, but continued patiently,
"But those subtle disturbances still exist. In population centers, interference makes it too messy to discern. Yet dark guilds would never base themselves in cities. So, if you input the data into a mathematical model, collect the disturbances in wilderness zones into a database…"
"Use the average level of S-Class Mages as the lower bound, and the averages of the Wizard Saints' top ranks as the upper bound. Then simulate the cumulative effects of, say, a hundred such individuals. What scale of disturbance would that produce? Which ranges?"
"Once you've narrowed it down, search for those signatures. Categorize the data, filter out large monster populations and state-level military facilities."
"What remains are the strongholds of powerful dark guilds. Then you check them one by one."
"If conditions permit, you can cross-reference historical activity ranges of known guilds—draw their areas of operation, target those zones, and you'll find results quickly."
Yajima was utterly dumbfounded. A way of finding enemies like this? They had never imagined Chronostasis could be used this way.
Normally, they only used it to watch a few magic-rich zones—by hand, with staff staring at displays. Natsu's method of big data analysis was a dimensional blow to the Council's primitive methods.
It all came down to a failure of vision.
If they'd thought of this earlier, they could have combined Etherion with Chronostasis to annihilate guilds like Tartaros and Grimoire Heart long ago.
Yajima sighed with regret.
"Of course, there was luck too. They just happened to all be meeting together. So I caught them in one sweep."
"…That's good enough." Yajima's mouth opened and closed several times before he gave a weary nod, his figure slumping slightly.
"May I ask one more question?" Council Chairman Crawford Seam interjected hastily.
"Go ahead."
"Doesn't the Balam Alliance threaten you? If their subordinate guilds scatter and infiltrate the cities, they could cause massive damage…"
"I cut off magic communications across the entire region at the start. They tried transmitting, but when they realized nothing could get through, they didn't waste much resistance.
As for the many other dark guilds—they are exactly what I intend to deal with next."
To Natsu, who had fought magic lifeforms and even PyPy, the battles of dark guilds weren't even worthy of the term. The last struggles of Tartaros and Grimoire Heart hadn't been resistance—just tantrums.
"…I see." Crawford fell silent, retreating with a bitter expression.
"But how can you, alone, eliminate so many dark guilds? They're spread all across the world. If they lose contact with their parent guilds for a while, they'll disband and melt into the population, creating chaos."
Councilor Org pressed the issue. This had always been the Council's greatest headache. As the official body upholding magical order, they were undoubtedly the strongest force.
Otherwise, why would they stand openly as the leaders of the magical world?
But leadership came with pain.
The first, and most important: they had to maintain legitimacy. Their words and actions had to keep the nations and legal guilds' trust. Otherwise, why would anyone obey?
If they pushed to the limit, they could indeed destroy the great Balam guilds—Grimoire Heart, Tartaros, and Oración Seis.
But the consequences afterward were unbearable.
Magic was fluid. It could be learned or awakened naturally. And the world was full of those who, upon gaining power, chose crime—driven by grudges, impulse, vanity, or any number of petty reasons.
When such individuals acted and had no backing, the Council had to dispatch troops across the land to suppress and capture them.
And those who resisted capture? Where else would they go, if not into dark guilds?
Even conservatively, Earthland's dark guild mages numbered over 100,000.
So long as they were contained under the great guilds, they caused little chaos. The most reckless would be struck down first, maintaining an uneasy balance between Council and darkness.
Even in the attack on Oración Seis, the Council had called in many legal guilds to help maintain order, while the other two great Balam guilds opportunistically swallowed Oración Seis's subordinates. The Council simply looked the other way.
That was why it had all gone so "smoothly."
It was a delicate balance.
But now—if the three great dark guilds were wiped out—these subordinate guilds would lose their leaders, their backers. The Council could no longer pretend not to see.
Even if the Council tried, would anyone believe them? The collapse of the dark guilds was inevitable. And then one hundred thousand empowered criminals would dissolve into kingdoms and cities alike.
The consequences were unthinkable.
"One person is not enough, no. But with more people, it can be done."
Muttering this, Natsu stepped outside. His eyes lifted to the heavens, where several stars shone unusually bright.
"What's that…?" Councilors followed, noticing the anomaly. They craned their necks, eyes wide.
"Chronostasis."
"Chronostasis? What have you done now!?" Councilor Belno asked in shock. The others leaned in eagerly, their curiosity insatiable.
Since this youth's arrival, their worldview had shattered and reassembled again and again.
Weapons they had safeguarded for decades—he toyed with them in minutes.
The frustration and awe still hadn't faded.
"A Spatial Transmission Array. Prepared for faster responses. If you wish to join in, I welcome it."
As he spoke, a pillar of brilliant white light pierced heaven and earth, descending before Natsu. Its radiance lit his young face—youthful, yet utterly confident.