"Yes!!"
The members of Fairy Tail followed happily behind Makarov, marching away from the battlefield like true victors.
As they stepped out of the arena's ruins, they found themselves surrounded by a massive crowd. The mages felt a sudden pang of anxiety. These people aren't here to demand compensation, are they? they wondered.
The clash between Kael and Jose had caused significant collateral damage, and Kael had been the primary source of the destruction. They didn't even want to imagine how high the repair bill would be.
Makarov stepped forward, ready to apologize and take full responsibility for the mess.
"Everyone, listen—"
"That was incredible!!"
"You guys were amazing!"
"I never knew wizards could be that powerful!"
"You actually took down a Wizard Saint! That was legendary!"
"Mr. Kael! You were so cool!"
"As expected of Fairy Tail! The strongest guild in Fiore!"
"The strongest! The strongest! The strongest!!"
The crowd erupted in cheers. There was no anger, no fear—only pure, raw enthusiasm for the victory they had just witnessed. Although they had evacuated the stadium, they had watched the entire duel through the lacrima broadcast.
Human nature gravitates toward the strong, and Kael's display of power had left them utterly spellbound. Relief washed over the Fairy Tail mages. When no one produced a damages bill, their anxiety vanished, replaced by proud smiles as they soaked in the applause.
"Hmph."
From the edge of the crowd, a figure watched the celebration with a disdainful sneer, then turned away. It was Laxus.
Originally, he had planned to let Kael deal with the consequences of provoking Phantom Lord, intending to swoop in at the last moment and finish off Jose himself. He wanted to show the world that a Wizard Saint wasn't invincible—and that he was the one who truly held the power.
He hadn't expected Kael to actually win. To Laxus, it wasn't all that impressive; he was convinced he could have done the same if he'd been on stage. What rankled him most was that the glory—the honor of being the guild's savior—had been snatched away by that brat.
Elsewhere, Mystogan—his face and body completely shrouded in dark cloth—watched from the shadows. He had been prepared to intervene if Fairy Tail fell into a disadvantage. He hadn't expected his guildmates to be so capable, handling every threat with ease. He glanced at his cheering family one last time, then vanished into the crowd.
The Magic Council: ERA
Bang!
"Look at this! I told you Fairy Tail was nothing but a pack of troublemakers!"
Council Member Org slammed his fist onto the table, his face flushed with rage.
"Look at the mess they've made! They destroyed a historic arena and caused massive damage to the city! I formally propose the immediate disbandment of Fairy Tail!!"
"I agree!"
Michello chimed in, his voice dripping with venom. Like Org, he was one of the Council members who harbored a deep-seated hatred for the rowdy guild.
"A guild like that is a menace! Destruction follows them everywhere. If we let them continue, they'll dismantle the Council itself one of these days!"
Siegrain leaned back, a faint, knowing smile on his lips.
"If we forcibly disband Fairy Tail, what do you suggest we do with the members?"
"What does it matter?"
Michello grumbled. "Scatter them. Force them into other guilds or ban them from practicing magic. If they don't like it, too bad."
Siegrain, standing nearby, spoke up calmly.
"As far as my records show, Fairy Tail possesses at least half a dozen mages on the level of 'Salamander' Natsu, and four on the level of Erza Scarlet. Furthermore, three of those mages are confirmed to be even stronger than Erza. And most importantly, they have Kael and Makarov—two mages who are undeniably on the level of the Ten Wizard Saints."
Org's eyes bulged.
"So what? Do they still dare resist the Council?"
Siegrain shook his head, suppressing a chuckle. These men still believed the Magic Council held absolute authority—blind to the fact that their military forces were meaningless against truly elite mages.
"I'm simply offering a warning,"
Siegrain said, his voice dropping into a serious register.
"Fairy Tail is currently a legal guild, which means they follow our rules. You can shout at Makarov all you want. But if you push them until they become a Dark Guild… well, everyone in this room should start sleeping with one eye open."
"Sieg, what is that supposed to mean?!"
"It means exactly what I said,"
Siegrain replied, spreading his hands.
"The era of winning through numbers and legion warfare is over. The concentration of Ethernano in the atmosphere is rising, and the gap between the truly strong and the weak widens every day. Take me, for example—if I decided to kill everyone in this room, the Council's entire defense force couldn't stop me."
"What?!"
Org shouted, rising to his feet. "Sieg, don't be an alarmist!"
Siegrain smiled, cold and clinical.
"It's not an alarm. It's a fact. Whether you choose to believe it is your business. But I'll give you one piece of advice: when dealing with the truly powerful, even as Council members, you should maintain some measure of respect."
----
The members of Fairy Tail finally arrived back at their home. As they stood before their guild hall, the cheers from earlier faded into a heavy silence.
The building was in ruins. The massive iron pillars Gajeel had used to impale the hall had been removed, leaving gaping holes behind. The walls were webbed with deep cracks, and the entire structure leaned precariously.
It was their home—the place where they had shared countless laughs, drinks, and memories. Seeing it like this felt like seeing a family member covered in scars.
Makarov stared at the building he had raised with his own two hands. His heart ached.
"Oh my… it's destroyed beyond recognition. Looks like we have no choice but to tear it down and start over."
"Phantom Lord… those bastards,"
Gray muttered, fists clenching. Part of them wanted to drag Jose out of his hospital bed just to beat him one more time for what he'd done to their home.
"Alright,"
Makarov said, forcing strength into his voice. "Everyone, go home and get some rest. Tomorrow morning, we begin the reconstruction!"
"YEAAAAAH!!"
The guild shouted, trying to summon their spirit again.
But as the crowd began to disperse, reality finally hit Makarov like a freight train. The Onibus Arena was a total loss. Onibus City had suffered multiple earthquakes. The Council was going to be absolutely furious.
He would be summoned. He would be screamed at for hours. He would probably be thrown into a damp, dark cell for "reflection" for weeks. Large beads of sweat began to roll down his forehead. He was finished. His life was over.
The more he thought about the paperwork, the hearings, and the sheer volume of yelling he was about to endure, the more his heart broke. Finally, he couldn't hold it in anymore.
"AOOOOOOOOOH!!"
Makarov wailed at the top of his lungs.
"Whoa! The Master is crying!"
"His love for the guild hall must be deeper than we realized!"
"Let it out, Master! It's okay to mourn the building!"
As the guild members comforted him—assuming he was grieving the architecture—Makarov only wailed harder, knowing his future held nothing but furious Council letters and soul-crushing fines.