Since they set off in the afternoon and the destination was far away, Rhodes and Elfman had to camp out overnight.
Seeing Rhodes use his magic to produce a tent, cookware, and fresh ingredients, Elfman couldn't help but think: if this guy was always this thoughtful, maybe he could take good care of his sister.
But then...
"Your cooking is awful! How can a man not know how to cook?!"
Elfman shoved Rhodes aside and took over the makeshift cutting board.
Rhodes watched the burly man handle vegetables with practiced ease and couldn't help but feel sothing about this situation was off.
Half an hour later, after the al was ready, Rhodes took a bite and gasped, "No way. Buddy, you're seriously good at this!"
Objectively speaking, Elfman's cooking skills were almost on par with Erza's.
Erza, in turn, was nearly as good as Mira.
And Mira? She was just a step behind Fairy Tail's legendary chef, Master Cook.
As for Rhodes, he wasn't close to any of them. The only one who liked his food was Warm.
But to be fair, Rhodes had yet to find a single thing Warm wouldn't eat. Sweet, sour, bitter, spicy, raw, or even half-frozen, Warm didn't care. Rhodes suspected Warm's one criterion for food was that it didn't kill him.
It was early April, and spring was well underway. The evening was warm enough that they didn't need to rush into the tent. Stargazing beneath the open sky sounded perfect.
But one look at Elfman and Rhodes thought better of it.
Yeah... back to the tent. So ditation, then sleep. They still had a long road ahead in the morning.
Elfman blinked in confusion. Did Rhodes really go to bed this early every day?
...
The next morning, they had breakfast with the coachman and resud their journey.
Even though the people they were supposed to find could supposedly protect themselves, ti was of the essence on a mission like this.
The carriage rolled through open fields, past winding roads and a quiet town. Aside from a quick food stop for the coachman, they didn't linger.
As the sun crept toward noon, Rhodes suddenly sat upright.
"Stop the cart—now!"
The coachman hit the brakes, and Elfman looked at him with concern. "What's going on?"
"Sothing's wrong," Rhodes replied, eyes narrowing.
Through the vision of a Scuttle Crab he'd sent ahead, he could already see the village they were headed for.
From this distance, all he saw were collapsed hos and scorched earth.
Rhodes' face darkened. "We're getting off here."
The road ahead wasn't safe. He couldn't allow the coachman to get any closer.
It also wasn't safe to call the crab back yet. Rhodes instead summoned two Murk Wolves. He and Elfman each climbed onto one, then charged toward the village at full speed.
Even as they advanced, Rhodes kept switching between his summoned creatures' senses, scanning for ambushes or magical traps. Only after confirming the area ahead was clear did they continue their approach.
When they reached the crest of a low hill, the full view of the village ca into sight.
Or rather... what was left of it.
No longer a village, just a ruin.
All around them lay wreckage: shattered walls, crumbling stone pillars, collapsed rooftops. The once-proud village was reduced to rubble.
Smoke was still rising from several spots, and near the village's entrance, a patch of black flas continued to burn ominously.
"Black flas?" Rhodes narrowed his eyes. The strange sight imdiately reminded him of Amaterasu from Naruto universe next door.
He turned to Elfman. "You ever heard of flas like this?"
Elfman shook his head, frowning. "Not at all. But I can tell this isn't your average fire."
That much was certain. The presence of such unnatural flas strongly suggested this wasn't the work of bandits or beasts. A wizard had done this, and not a regular one, either.
As Rhodes and Elfman carefully approached the ruined village, an unsettling silence pressed in around them.
There were no cries for help. No whimpers. No shouting. Nothing.
That silence said it all, either the villagers had all escaped... or there were no survivors left.
The black flas, though diminished, still radiated imnse heat. Even from several ters away, the scorching air forced the summoned wolves to crouch and lower their bodies instinctively.
Rhodes found himself comparing it to Natsu's flas, the fire he was most familiar with.
To his shock, he realized that aside from the ti Natsu had used his Dragon Slayer Secret Art under the effects of a red buff, even he might not be able to match the sheer intensity of this black fire.
"Who could've done this?" Rhodes muttered, racking his mory for any ntion of such magic in the Magic Encyclopedia. But there were no matches. No leads. Either this was an entirely new type of magic, or it was a highly classified and rare form, possibly even a Lost Magic.
"Rhodes..." Elfman's voice was low and heavy with dread.
Following his gaze, Rhodes saw the scattered remains of the village's defenses, swords, spears, shields, all lying broken among the rubble.
Next to each of them... a body.
The worst-case scenario had co true.
It looked like the villagers had put up a fight... but they hadn't stood a chance.
With a grim expression, Rhodes summoned all his remaining wolves.
He gently patted one on the head. "Fan out. Look for any survivors, any foreign scents, or anything suspicious."
The wolves split up, sniffing and scouring the wreckage with practiced precision.
Rhodes and Elfman did their own search, clinging to the faintest shred of hope.
Then, not long after, one of the wolves gave a soft, urgent howl.
"WooWoo"
It returned with a piece of torn fabric clutched gently in its jaws.
Rhodes took it, unfolding the charred scrap. The cloth was mostly black, but across its surface, he spotted a partially intact emblem—dark red lines forming a jagged heart, spikes, and what looked like the curve of a bat-like wing.
Rhodes' eyes widened in alarm.
"Grimoire Heart...!"
"What?" Elfman blinked in confusion.
"That's their emblem!" Rhodes exclaid, his voice tight with shock. "Grimoire Heart! One of the Balam Alliance's Big Three—one of the strongest dark guilds!"
A chill ran through him.
He didn't know the full extent of Grimoire Heart's power, but the guild's reputation spoke for itself. As one of the three major dark guilds that controlled over ninety percent of the underworld's magical networks, they were not to be underestimated.
When Rhodes had accompanied Master Makarov to a regular guild conference so ti ago, he rembered Master Goldmine ntioning the Balam Alliance.
And when the na "Grimoire Heart" ca up, he distinctly recalled how several guild masters broke into a cold sweat.
At the ti, Rhodes had guessed that these three infamous dark guilds were perhaps the underworld equivalents of the powerful legal guilds like Fairy Tail, Blue Pegasus, and Sabertooth.
Now, he realized, this mission had just escalated into sothing far beyond what he and Elfman could handle alone.
Elfman seed to grasp the weight of the situation too. "What do we do now?"
"First, we call for backup." Rhodes activated his magic, instantly summoning a pen and notepad into his hands.
Elfman opened his mouth, hesitated, and said nothing. Normally, wizards were expected to handle ergencies on their own during missions. Requesting aid was often seen as a sign of weakness, or worse, failure. It was a bit humiliating.
But this wasn't a normal mission. And this wasn't a normal enemy.
Without hesitation, Rhodes tore off two sheets of paper and quickly wrote out a detailed account of what they'd discovered. He summoned one of his crabs and his loyal companion Warm.
"You two," he said firmly, "head to that town we passed earlier. Get this ssage to the mayor. Ask them to relay it to both Fairy Tail and the Magic Council."
Most towns had communication lacrima for this kind of ergency. Rhodes wrote the note under his official Fairy Tail credentials, requesting urgent action.
He sent Warm along because, out of all his summoned creatures, Warm was the most intelligent, and, more importantly, the friendliest looking. If anyone could calmly deliver a ssage without scaring the locals, it was Warm.
With that done, Rhodes turned back to the ruins and began planning their next move.
Realistically, the safest option would've been to leave right away. They could've fled back to town and waited for reinforcents.
But... there might still be survivors buried beneath the rubble. And even if there weren't, the two siblings the client asked them to find might still be out there sowhere, injured, lost, or worse.
Rhodes clenched his fists. As Fairy Tail wizards, they couldn't just turn their backs and run.
He quickly reviewed the situation. Based on the mission description and what they'd seen so far, it was likely that Grimoire Heart's goal had been the artifact, the Tears of Chris.
That shredded piece of fabric they'd found was probably left behind by one of their mbers. And judging by how there weren't any enemy corpses around, Grimoire Heart had likely retrieved their fallen comrades before leaving.
That ant they'd had ti to calmly sweep the area, gather what they needed, and vanish without a trace.
So... the artifact was probably gone. Taken.
And if they'd left so thoroughly, it was unlikely they'd return.
For now, that ant he and Elfman were safe, unless, of course, one of them decided mid-escape that they hadn't erased their tracks well enough and ca back to "clean up."
"Let's search for survivors," Rhodes said, voice steady but grim. "We can't linger here long."
He sighed as he scanned the scorched ruins once more.
Sotis, doing the right thing made him feel dangerously exposed.
Conscience could be a heavy burden for a mage.
...
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