Demon God's Soul Headquarters – Dark Demon Castle
In the dark grand hall, Garlos sat upon his throne, hands clasped before him, chin resting on the back of his hands, lost in thought.
Though seven years had passed, his appearance had not changed much—only becoming more mature.
At this mont, he was contemplating the intelligence he had just received.
"They're back... If this information is accurate, then Tsukiyo's strike from seven years ago did not hit them. In that situation, they should have already lost all ability to resist. Even His Majesty Nord shouldn't have had the strength left to protect them. That ans their own power couldn't have saved them. The most reasonable explanation... is that so mysterious force within Tenrou Island protected them."
Garlos let out a faint sigh, a sense of unease rising in his heart.
Although the current strength of Fairy Tail's mbers was still far from being considered a real threat to Demon God's Soul, he couldn't shake the feeling that this guild would beco the greatest variable in their plans.
"No matter what, the Grand Magic Gas is approaching, and before the final day arrives, the [Godfall] plan must not be hindered." Garlos muttered to himself, his voice low and serious.
Just then, Garlos suddenly sensed sothing.
His body instinctively jerked to the side, narrowly avoiding a transparent wave of energy that streaked past his cheek.
"Tsk, missed."
A clear voice filled with resentnt and frustration echoed through the hall.
Then, in an instant, the tone changed to one of warmth and politeness.
"Good morning, Garlos."
"You were obviously trying to kill just now, Luther!" Garlos gritted his teeth.
Anyone who was suddenly ambushed by an attack capable of killing them in one strike would struggle to remain calm.
Given the situation, his reaction was already impressively restrained.
The owner of the voice finally revealed himself—a young man with purple hair, appearing to be around eighteen years old.
His amber-colored pupils were exquisite, yet they carried a hint of confusion, giving him an overall impression of pure innocence.
However, upon hearing Garlos' words, the purple-haired youth displayed an inexplicably bewildered expression.
"What are you talking about, Garlos? Are you suffering from early-onset dentia? Well, I suppose it makes sense. You're already getting up there in years. Why don't you just step down from the throne and retire? It'd be better for everyone."
"...You just openly admitted to your intention of assassinating ," Garlos muttered, his expression unreadable.
"You want to kill and take my seat on the throne, don't you?"
"That's just your imagination. Pure misconception. You're overthinking things." The purple-haired youth flashed an innocent smile.
Garlos silently stared at Luther, who was perfectly embodying the phrase 'the shaless are invincible.'
He felt utterly helpless in the face of such blatant audacity.
However, as the strategist of Demon God's Soul, Garlos' mind quickly formulated a rather interesting idea.
"Luther, have you ever considered this? Since eliminating one of the seven of us would give you a shot at claiming a throne..." Garlos spoke in a tone of patient persuasion, as if guiding a junior.
"Wouldn't it make more sense to target soone you actually have a good chance of defeating?"
Luther blinked. "Like who?"
"Ahem. Think about it—based on raw strength, you'd naturally want to start with the lower-ranked thrones. But Reign has the sa type of attack magic as you do, so under equal conditions, you wouldn't have much of an advantage. That rules him out. Then there's Ophelia, but if you go after her, you'll have to deal with Stella's wrath as well, aning you'd have to fight two thrones at once. Not a great idea—so she's out too.
"Given all that, your ideal target should be soone weaker, soone without allies to avenge them, and soone whose magic is naturally countered by your own, wouldn't you agree?"
Seeing the look of sudden realization on Luther's face, Garlos silently mourned for a certain soone in his heart.
"Sorry, Dylan. You didn't do anything to offend , but in order to get out of this ss, I had to redirect this guy's attention onto you. Don't worry—after you're gone, I'll take full responsibility and personally write you a proper epitaph."
anwhile, sowhere on the continent, a green-haired young man who was carrying out a mission suddenly sneezed.
...............
Sowhere in the wilderness of Fiore.
"They say they're back," a blond-haired man sitting on a rock spoke, his tone filled with amusent.
"I don't know what you're talking about."
The one who responded to the blond man's remark was a black-haired man wearing a dark cloak.
He stood calmly, his voice carrying a cold and indifferent air.
"The core mbers of Fairy Tail, who disappeared seven years ago."
"I'm not interested."
Hearing his companion's response, the blond man turned his head to look at the black-haired man, speaking softly, "Lying isn't good, you know, Rogue? You used to admire Gajeel a lot."
The black-haired man, Rogue, gazed up at the sky, as if reminiscing about sothing, and said in a quiet voice, "That was a long ti ago."
..............
Era - Magic Council
An elderly man walked through one of the corridors of the Magic Council.
He had a long white beard, deep wrinkles on his face, and leaned on a magic staff.
His entire presence exuded an air of dignity and authority.
This man was none other than Org, one of the Council's esteed mbers.
As Org approached, two n who had been waiting for him stepped forward to greet him.
"Master Org, thank you for your hard work in the eting. Has there been a conclusion regarding the andnt to the inter-guild trade law?"
"No, that will take more ti... But more importantly, you must have heard the news by now," Org responded.
He glanced at the two n before him—one wore glasses and had a slightly stern expression, while the other bore a scar on his face and looked conflicted.
They were Lahar and Doranbolt, the very witnesses of the tragedy that had befallen Tenrou Island seven years ago.
Lahar nodded in understanding. "You an the news that Fairy Tail's core mbers have returned?"
After Org confird it, Lahar turned to Doranbolt and spoke in a low voice, "Looks like you can finally breathe easy now, Doranbolt."
"I..." Doranbolt lowered his head, shaking it silently.
"It seems the magic world is about to be thrown into chaos once more," Org sighed, turning his gaze toward the scenery outside.
"It's already been seven years since the sighting of both Demon God's Soul and Zeref..."
"My apologies, but we still have no leads on their whereabouts," Lahar replied.
"Should we consider increasing the number of reconnaissance units?" Org muttered to himself.
"These past seven years have been far too quiet. While we've been closely monitoring Sabertooth's rapid rise, Tartaros has yet to make any significant moves, the remnants of Grimoire Heart remain dormant, and there has been no news of either Demon God's Soul or Zeref. But it's precisely this silence that is the most terrifying—like an endless night without the promise of dawn... Perhaps it's about ti for the sun to rise. The magic world may soon witness a great new dawn."
Doranbolt lifted his head and asked Org, "Are you saying that this turning point... is Fairy Tail?"
"Hahahaha." Org suddenly burst into laughter at Doranbolt's words.
Turning away, he began to walk off at a leisurely pace.
"To think that I've co to place my hopes on that troubleso Fairy Tail... I must truly be getting old."
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