"Now then," Mister Pumpkin announced, his voice echoing across the arena, "the one hundred and one teams will be divided into ten groups. Nine groups will contain ten teams each. The final group will have eleven."
He unfolded a sheet of paper and began reading. "When your guild is called, proceed to the center of the arena. All others, remain on standby."
"The first group: Crocodile Hide, Werewolf's Claw, Boar's Tusk—"
Ten guilds stepped forward together, fifty mages in total, forming a loose line at the heart of the arena.
Across from them, ten enormous magic circles flared to life.
From each circle, a mechanical magic gorilla slowly emerged. Metal limbs locked into place. Gears whined. The creatures threw back their heads and roared, the sound heavy enough to rattle teeth.
Several mages swallowed hard.
Before anyone could react further, new magic circles ignited beneath the gorillas. Massive steel structures rose from the ground, each one enclosing a single beast. Moments later, ten floating projections appeared above the arena, displaying the interior of each chamber.
"Each team will choose one enclosure," Mister Pumpkin explained. "If you cannot defeat the magic beast, you may exit the room or shout your surrender. If you refuse to yield and suffer fatal consequences, the responsibility is yours."
The warning drew nervous laughter from the crowd.
Amid thunderous cheers, the ten teams selected the nearest enclosures and entered. Once all were inside, Mister Pumpkin gestured toward the host's platform.
Aba raised the microphone. "The preliminary round of the First Grand Magic Games… begins now!"
Inside the projected chambers, the mechanical gorillas moved instantly. They charged, fists swinging, jaws blazing with magic as they launched into brutal assaults.
The teams responded in kind, forming defensive lines, counterattacking with everything they had.
The chambers exploded with color and chaos.
Flames, lightning, sound-based magic, binding spells, sticky fluids, elongated limbs, and techniques Rowan had never seen before filled the projections. Some spells manipulated music itself. Others immobilized targets like living webs. One mage even used their tongue like a whip.
Rowan watched with quiet interest.
Most of it wouldn't help him much. Many spells revealed their principles at a glance. Still, it was a reminder of how endlessly varied magic could be in a world built entirely around it.
For Rowan, the mechanical gorillas were unimpressive.
For everyone else, they were monsters.
Out of the first ten teams, only one managed to bring its opponent down. The rest either surrendered or were knocked unconscious one by one. The gorillas pulled their strikes just enough to avoid killing anyone. The threat of death, it turned out, was mostly theater.
Even so, the message landed.
The arena buzzed with excitement and unease.
"Second group, please step forward! Blue Pegasus, Black Panther, Mane of the Mad Lion—"
This time, the difference was immediate.
Three teams advanced, with Blue Pegasus stealing the spotlight. Their leader, Ichiya, didn't even move. Neither did Jenny, the ever-popular magazine darling. Instead, the remaining three members worked together and dismantled the gorilla with clinical efficiency.
It wasn't arrogance. It was strategy.
The less you revealed, the safer you were later.
In mage battles, information mattered. When strengths were close, preparation could decide everything. With elite competitors and even Saint-class mages expected in the main rounds, restraint was its own weapon.
Other strong teams followed the same philosophy.
Lamia Scale sent only Sherry Blendy into the enclosure. She summoned stone and tree giants again and again, grinding the gorilla down over half an hour until its core ran dry. The rest of her team never lifted a finger.
From morning until dusk, the matches continued.
Every guild showed something different. The crowd never stopped cheering. For most spectators, this was a once-in-a-lifetime spectacle.
Then, at last—
"Ninth group," Mister Pumpkin called. "Fairy Tail."
The reaction was immediate.
Eyes snapped toward the four mages and one cat. Some spectators leaned forward, eager to watch a fallen legend stumble. Others were simply curious. A small handful hoped, desperately, that Fairy Tail still had something left.
A few of those loyalists had attended the Harvest Festival months earlier. They remembered the guild's internal tournament. They remembered the cat who defeated Laxus.
They remembered that Fairy Tail's strongest hadn't vanished completely.
"Our turn," Rowan said calmly.
He spread his wings, lifted off from Laki's shoulder, and led the others toward the nearest enclosure. The four mages followed, tension written plainly on their faces.
Sensing the crowd's focus, Aba turned toward the VIP section.
"Fairy Tail was once considered the Kingdom's strongest guild," he said. "After the Tenrou Island incident, their former Guild Master and core members vanished. Do you believe this remaining team has any chance of passing the preliminaries?"
Yajima adjusted his chef's hat and smiled.
"You may not realize this," he replied evenly, "but not all of Fairy Tail's strength disappeared with Tenrou Island. I don't know if they'll win the Games. But passing the preliminaries?" He nodded. "That won't be a problem."
Yajima knew better than most.
After the disaster, he had visited Fairy Tail himself. He had seen Macau. And he had learned that Rowan Mercer was quietly working to undo Fairy Sphere and bring the others back.
The legend wasn't gone.
It was waiting.