"So, everyone, we really need to prepare for a tough battle."
Standing on a makeshift stage inside the villa, Marco explained the situation regarding Nirvana, Cait Shelter, and the Oración Seis, bringing everyone up to speed on what they were facing.
"The Oración Seis were up to no good!" Laharl cursed, adjusting his glasses.
The Allied Forces had just learned the true objective of the Oración Seis.
The existence of Nirvana was something none of them anticipated, but they never believed the dark guild was out for a leisurely stroll.
They always suspected they were plotting something sinister.
The mention of Nirvana sent shivers down their spines—the weapon was terrifying enough to annihilate the entire Nirvit tribe.
When they heard Marco destroyed it, they exclaimed, "You did the right thing!" and breathed a collective sigh of relief.
Facing the Oración Seis, they felt no fear. It was just a matter of fighting—the stronger side would win.
Even if they lost, they could accept being outmatched.
But if their minds were twisted by Nirvana...
The thought of it made their stomachs churn. Marco destroying the weapon lifted a massive burden from their shoulders.
They were also impressed by Cait Shelter's centuries-long vigil over Nirvana.
Laharl and the other Magic Council Captains even volunteered to propose an award for Cait Shelter to Chairman Gran Doma.
On one hand, it served as a warning to Mages to be cautious with their magical research.
Even a powerful Mage like Roubaul couldn't control such a creation.
On the other hand, it served as an example to encourage others. If everyone could be like Roubaul and Cait Shelter—striving to fix the problems they created even after death—the Magic Council's workload would be a lot lighter.
"I think that's a great idea," Marco said, nodding in agreement with Laharl and the others. He then nudged Wendy forward. "Our guild happens to have a relative of someone from that Cait Shelter. Any tangible rewards you have can be sent directly to her. She's a twelve-year-old girl."
Marco believed Wendy was fully entitled to inherit anything related to this Cait Shelter's legacy.
After all, the ghost guild only came into existence because of her.
"..."
Laharl and the other Captains froze, exchanging bewildered glances.
They hadn't expected this twist.
Weren't all those members of Cait Shelter ghosts?! Where did this relative come from?!
"Can... ghosts have relatives?" one Captain whispered, his face a mask of astonishment, as if his understanding of the world had just shattered.
"Don't get the wrong idea," Marco chuckled, explaining Wendy's connection. "She was adopted by Old Man Roubaul when she was very young. She always called him 'Grandpa' and treated those members of the Cait Shelter Guild like her own family."
"Ah, I see!"
Everyone understood.
Marco's earlier phrasing was misleading.
The idea of ghosts who existed for four or five hundred years—long after the entire Nirvit race wiped out—still having living relatives was unsettling.
"I've explained the general situation," Marco continued after the interruption, moving on to the next arrangements.
"Everyone, return to your guilds and relay the news. Tell your members to prepare for battle. The Oración Seis could arrive at any moment."
The guild elites present at the meeting, though numerous, couldn't possibly include every member.
The information needed to be passed down.
"No problem! This is great! We were worried they might run away!"
Everyone responded to Marco, their spirits soaring.
The destruction of Nirvana was a massive morale boost.
They destroyed the enemy's objective, making the Oración Seis, who mobilized with such fanfare, look like clowns.
As the meeting concluded and the news spread, the Allied Forces erupted with excitement, their morale at an all-time high.
Marco, Nirvana, and Fairy Tail became the center of everyone's discussions.
This fiery atmosphere lasted until the next day, when the long-awaited Oración Seis finally arrived.
...
"Those Magic Council bastards just won't quit," a man complained at the Oración Seis encampment.
"They even organized an Allied Force to ambush us. We were too lenient during the prison break. We should have destroyed their headquarters while we were at it."
The speaker had a yellow mohawk, matching yellow eyebrows, and wore goggles.
His nose was long and pointed, and his chin was covered by an iron guard.
He was one of the six Generals of the Oración Seis: Sawyer, codenamed "Racer."
The Dark Guild known as the Oración Seis was primarily composed of its six Mages.
They were Brain, the master; Macbeth, codenamed "Midnight"; Sawyer, codenamed "Racer"; Sorano Agria, codenamed "Angel"; Erik, codenamed "Cobra"; and Richard Buchanan, codenamed "Hoteye."
To the Oración Seis, only these six were the core.
Everyone else was merely a slave, and this was even truer for their subordinate Dark Guilds.
In a way, this was the guild structure Laxus once envisioned—a model rarely seen in official guilds.
After all, official guilds undertook legitimate quests, requiring members to handle minor tasks that stronger Mages wouldn't bother with and to engage with the general populace.
"Pay them no mind. They're just a disorganized mob," Brain said.
His gaze pierced deep into the Worth Woodsea, as if he could already see Nirvana and witness the activation of the Ancient Super Magic.
Brain, the master and founder of the Oración Seis, was the former head of the Magic Development Bureau.
He had white hair slicked back, dark brown skin, and a muscular build. He wore an open overcoat, revealing strange magic markings carved into his chest.
In his hand, Brain held a skull-headed staff.
The skull's mouth opened and closed, chattering as if it could speak.
"Brain, about yesterday's disturbance..." the skull staff reminded him.
The Oración Seis all sensed the massive commotion Marco caused the previous day.
Though they were far away, they knew something happened in the Worthy Woodsea.
"Klodoa, what did you find?" Brain asked, looking at the skull staff.
This staff was no ordinary weapon; it possessed its own intelligence and could even cast magic independently.
"Nothing specific. The magic power is incredibly dense," Klodoa replied.
Brain frowned.
Klodoa's words were as useful as a fart—anyone could sense how concentrated the magic power was in that area.
"Racer, go take a look," Brain ordered after a moment's thought.
Racer was undoubtedly the best choice to lead the reconnaissance.
---
Things will be very different..