How is it? Any news from the Council?
Inside the resplendent royal palace, the elderly king paced back and forth beneath his throne in the grand hall. His anxious, restless appearance was hardly different from that of any ordinary old man.
Every minute or two, he would demand again that the guards check whether there was news from the Magic Council.
"Father, the spies in the Council report that the councilors are still in session, debating countermeasures," the prince repeated helplessly.
The Magic Council was a special body that governed the magical world. Though not a nation, its status rivaled—sometimes even surpassed—that of any ordinary kingdom.
Its exact origins were lost to history. In the present, however, it was essentially a super-institution, jointly supported by all the kingdoms of the Ishgar continent. It maintained order in the magical world and controlled many super-weapons of magic.
But precisely because so many kingdoms were involved, and none had the strength to dominate the rest, no nation could build an administrative system within the Council under its sole control.
The result was a chaotic mix of factions. Any initiative by one side would inevitably be blocked by another—or even by several. Efficiency was abysmal.
Even mage guilds like Fairy Tail or the Demons' guilds dared to infiltrate spies into their ranks, some rising to high office. Could the kingdoms that truly ruled Ishgar do any less? Of course not.
It was thanks to those infiltrators that kingdoms knew the Council's role in this incident, as well as Natsu's actions and abilities. In unison, they aimed their demands at the Council, pressuring it to deal with Natsu swiftly.
But… even if they were united, the problems festering in the Council for years could not be solved at once. Vague jurisdictions, shirking staff, bloated bureaucracy—its system was paralyzed.
The Council was like a man who had been bedridden for years, grown fat and weak. Even if he suddenly recovered, it would take a long time before he could walk or run like a healthy man again.
Ordinarily, the kingdoms were quite pleased with this. The less efficient the Council, the less it could interfere with them.
If it were decisive, principled, and efficient—if it became an independent superpower in its own right—none of them could sleep peacefully.
But now, such complacency was impossible.
The nation faced calamity. They desperately needed a giant to shoulder the burden. With its ancient weapons and theoretical authority over the entire magical world, the Council was the obvious choice.
"Damn it! Those bastards are all useless! By the time they finish bickering, how much of my kingdom will even be left!?"
The king nearly choked on his own fury. He leapt and raged like a maddened monkey, seizing magic crystals, porcelain, silverware—anything within reach—and hurling them against the walls. Shards and fragments littered the floor.
"Father, the Council is clearly unreliable now. We must think of a way to save ourselves," the prince said, glancing at the magical projection in the hall.
Similar to the Council's displays, this one showed their own kingdom. Green dots marked towns still under control; red ones marked areas attacked and lost.
The sight was horrifying.
From the outer borders inward, the kingdom was collapsing. Already half the green had turned to red.
And it had been less than half a day. From the moment they heard of Natsu from the Council, to the kingdom's rapid downfall, mere hours had passed.
"Gather every unit we can. Launch every magic airship. Charge the Jupiter Cannon! I'll see if that damned creature dares set foot here!"
"Yes, Your Majesty." The guards saluted and hurried out.
But the king wasn't finished. His eyes turned to his son, flashing with a sinister light. His face twisted so terribly that the prince almost thought his father meant to slaughter him outright—sacrifice the royal family to rally the nation.
Thankfully, that was only an illusion. The king was not that far gone. Not yet.
"Go. Summon all the citizens of the capital," the king said suddenly.
His calmness was unnatural—so cold it chilled the prince to the bone. He stared in horror, realizing what his father intended.
"Father… they are civilians! If you truly do this, once this ends, we—"
Smack!
The king's palm cracked across his son's face.
"Silence! What do I care for peasants? Survival comes first. If we cannot live, what happens to them matters nothing to us!"
"Now go. Gather them at once. Or else you will be the first…"
The king's glare was venomous.
But in the next instant, the prince lunged forward. His hand became a blade, piercing straight through the king's chest. The old man collapsed, lifeless.
—
Ten minutes earlier.
Natsu stood over a world map, deep in thought.
"Different situations call for different measures. For dark guilds—scattered and inherently criminal—all members must face judgment. But for kingdoms… I hesitate."
"Within a kingdom, only part must be purged. The methods need not be as absolute as with the dark guilds."
"Compared to the chaos of guilds, kingdoms are far more structured. Culture, economy, and politics bind their people together. Unlike guilds, their leadership can simply be replaced to take control."
"That path costs less and is easier. But… would it harm innocents? If I abuse power this way, am I any different from Pai Pai?"
It was because of Pai Pai's cold arrogance that Natsu had resolved to change.
But if his change led him down Pai Pai's path, should he stop?
"No… not like that. Kingdoms must be purged. Their ruling class is vested interests—collectively guilty. Individuals can be judged later. I cannot deny for the sake of denial, or differ just to be different.
In dire times, extraordinary measures are the best protection for the world. Only then can we control powers that would otherwise go unchecked."
He hesitated, then made his decision.
His path was not Pai Pai's—but neither could he reject ruthlessness just for the sake of being unlike Pai Pai. In desperate times, desperate measures prevented greater loss.
Otherwise, when kingdoms raised armies for war, or used their own people as hostages to force his retreat, what then? Who would bear the blame for the dead?
"Then… I will compromise with myself. Whether it is justice or not, whether it is right or not—I'll leave that judgment for the future."
The stars above began to turn.
Three hundred and sixty Circumference Satellites shone with dazzling light. At Natsu's feet, radiant steps formed, rising into the sky and piercing the clouds.
Step.
As he climbed, ripples spread across the glowing stairway. Behind him, the Seven-Pointed Divine Wheel appeared, rising higher and higher until it pierced the clouds. Beside the full moon, a second moon manifested, casting cold silver light like a veil over the land.
Invisible waves spread outward, merging with the geographic and personal data gathered by the Circumference Satellites.
Under Natsu's control, the thoughts of nobles and high officials across the kingdoms began to shift.
It was a subtle, insidious influence. If even a spark of such thoughts existed in their hearts, it would be amplified. If not, they were unaffected—but instinctively marked as enemies by those who were changed.
Just like the prince… who slew his king.