With a final roar, the golden orb suddenly contracted, completely enveloping Ezreal.
The porcelain-like cracks gradually faded in the golden light, eventually disappearing entirely.
The orb slowly sank into the young man's body, like a drop of water merging into the ocean.
The entire hall held its breath.
Happy nervously clutched Natsu's collar, his small blue paws trembling slightly.
Three seconds. Five seconds. Ten seconds.
"Cough... cough cough!"
Ezreal suddenly coughed violently, his eyelids fluttering open.
His blue eyes, which always held a smile, were now bloodshot but still as bright as ever.
"Good... morning?" His voice was hoarse beyond belief, but the familiar curve of a smile already tugged at his lips, "I think... I overslept?"
Natsu's fist slammed down on the table next to his head, flames burning a charred hole in the wood: "You idiot!"
Mirajane pushed forward, gently but firmly pressing a cup of hot milk into Ezreal's hand: "Don't talk yet, drink the milk."
Makarov returned to his usual size, the old man standing with his hands behind his back, his face so grim it looked like it could drip water: "Explain."
The entire Guild instantly fell silent, even Natsu shut his mouth.
Everyone knew that when the Guild Master spoke in that tone, it was best to show absolute respect.
Ezreal's fingers, holding the milk cup, trembled slightly.
He tried to channel Light Magic, but found his body empty—only faint traces of the Light power that he could command like an arm remained, like puddles on a beach after the tide had receded.
"I..." The blonde young man lowered his eyes, the steam from the milk condensing into tiny droplets on his eyelashes, "I need power."
"So you just went ahead and performed Life Alchemy?" Makarov's voice suddenly rose, "Do you know how dangerous that is? The backlash from hundreds of souls is enough to create a new consciousness within you!"
Gray gasped: "Hundreds?"
"Beastmen, Dark Mages, Magic Beasts..." Natsu added in a muffled voice, flames flickering restlessly on his fists, "Ezreal treated himself like an alchemical furnace."
Ezreal gave a wry smile and took a sip of milk: "The effect... wasn't bad?"
He tried to demonstrate his enhanced physical strength, but as he raised his hand, he aggravated his unhealed internal injuries, making him gasp in pain.
Although the cracks on his body had disappeared, the chaotic soul power had almost shattered his physical body. If the Light Magic within him hadn't protected him in time, even if he hadn't been assimilated into a madman, his body would have exploded.
Makarov's white beard bristled with anger: "Effect? You almost killed yourself! If I hadn't used Fairy Sphere in time to freeze those soul fragments, the one talking to us now might have been the one hundred and first Ezreal!"
The Guild members stirred uneasily.
Levy pushed up her glasses, the lenses reflecting a worried gleam: "Then Ezreal's Light Magic now..."
"Temporarily unusable." Makarov sighed, his tone softening, "All of his Light Magic has fused into his soul for self-preservation. However..."
The old man suddenly reached out and pressed Ezreal's forehead, a flash of golden light passing: "The good news is, your soul has gained an astonishing affinity for Light elements."
Erza keenly caught the key point: "Which means..."
"Which means," Makarov withdrew his hand, his expression complex, "after he recovers, and after the baptism and purification of Light Magic, his strength may reach a new level, and his speed in cultivating Light Magic will also be faster. But don't celebrate too early..."
"Although those soul fragments are frozen, their 'quality' still exists within your soul."
Makarov frowned, "Fairy Sphere is currently sealing off the influence of these soul fragments on you, but this doesn't solve the fundamental problem. Such a massive amount of soul power cannot be digested in a short time."
"Fairy Sphere is currently maintained by my magic power. In at most half a year, Fairy Sphere will dissipate without magic power supply."
"By then, these soul powers will erupt again. You must either separate these soul fragments before Fairy Sphere disappears, or find a way to maintain Fairy Sphere long-term, until your soul grows strong enough to devour these soul powers in one go."
"I understand." Ezreal said softly, his fingertips unconsciously tracing circles on the rim of the cup, "My Summoned Beasts all have immense magic power. With their magic power, Fairy Sphere can be maintained long-term."
Natsu, who had been silent, suddenly rushed forward, grabbing his collar, flames dancing in his eyes: "Don't treat your life so lightly! If there's a next time, I'll burn you first!"
"Natsu!" Mirajane exclaimed.
But Ezreal just smiled and patted the cherry-haired young man's hand: "There won't be a next time."
His voice was light, yet carried an undeniable firmness, "I promise."
Makarov snorted and turned towards the bar: "Listen up, everyone! What happened today is not to be spread, especially not to the Council."
The old man suddenly turned back, his gaze like lightning, "Especially you, Loke. Your new girlfriend is a Council member's granddaughter, isn't she? Don't boast idly and spread rumors."
The Leo Celestial Spirit, who was secretly drinking, choked and coughed: "I, I don't know anything!"
The Guild gradually returned to its usual boisterousness.
Cana brought a barrel of juice and placed it next to Ezreal: "To celebrate you getting your life back."
"Thanks." Ezreal tried to lift the wooden cup, but found his arm still trembling uncontrollably.
Mirajane, seeing this, immediately took the cup and filled it with iced juice for him.
Cana took a straw and dropped it into the cup, tilting her head to look at the still pale Ezreal, "Tell me, what happened to make you so messed up?"
Ezreal and Natsu exchanged glances, then the blonde young man let out a long breath and recounted the entire story of the requested mission to everyone.
As Ezreal spoke, the faces of those around him grew solemn.
A systematic magic, standardized weapons, plus strange clothing.
Powerful werewolves who mastered Black Magic and could transform.
And finally, the lizard monster that ambushed Ezreal using some kind of curse magic.
As well as their strange belief in the Moon Demon, as mentioned by these people.
Just from the description, this was by no means a simple organization.
With Ezreal's strength, even if he wasn't at his best, his physical body, enhanced by Life Alchemy, would have been enough to handle ordinary dangers, yet he was still successfully ambushed.
It should be known that Evil Wolf had always been hidden in the shadows. Even an S-Rank Magic Beast proficient in Black Magic failed to detect the opponent's sneak attack, which shows that the opponent's strength and magic are by no means simple.
Counting the werewolf killed by Natsu, two such powerful Black Wizards appeared at once.
The strength of this unknown organization is definitely no less than that of a first-tier official Guild within the kingdom.
Natsu plopped down next to him, flames dancing at his fingertips, heating his drink: "So what exactly was that lizard monster?"
"These guys call themselves followers of the Moon Demon." Ezreal frowned in recollection, "Anyone who just pops up has astonishing strength; they are definitely not simple..."
Although Ezreal eventually killed the lizard monster, he had a vague feeling that what he killed was very likely not its true body.
Erza's armor clanged: "Do we need to report it to the Council?"
Makarov's voice came from the bar: "Not yet. After Ezreal recovers, you will form a special squad to investigate."
The old man looked deeply at Ezreal, "This time, no solo actions."
The blonde young man raised his trembling hand and gave a comical salute: "Understood, Guild Master."
Happy flapped his wings and landed on his shoulder, his small paws gently patting his golden hair: "Aye! Ezreal, get better quickly!"
Ezreal smiled and nodded, his gaze sweeping over every familiar face in the Guild—Gray was picking up his jacket from the floor, Erza was wiping her already gleaming sword, Natsu was eating grilled fish, Mirajane was preparing a second cup of hot milk... Sunlight streamed through the stained-glass windows, coloring everything with warm hues.
Ezreal took a deep breath, the familiar scent of the Guild filling his chest—wood, alcohol, smoked meat, and the smell of his comrades.
This was what he was willing to risk his life to protect.
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