"After you've cleared out all the controlled members," Ace said, looking at Piedmon as the dark gold light in his eyes slowly swirled, "you can spar with the others, but you can't go too far."
Piedmon's eyes instantly lit up. "Really?! Does Lord Ace keep his word?"
"I do."
"Yay!" Piedmon cheered, bouncing around like a wind-up toy. "Then I'll get started! First, these ones on the ground..."
He flung his arms out, and countless clean white handkerchiefs flew from his sleeves, fluttering toward the fifteen knocked-out mages like butterflies.
The moment the cloth touched their bodies, they began to glow, shrink, and transform.
Three seconds later, the people were gone from the ground.
Instead, fifteen palm-sized, chibi-style dolls wearing matching outfits rested in Piedmon's hands.
"Heeheehee, all done!" Piedmon looked down at the dolls, one of the doll was even sporting a knocked-out expression
"Next are the ones outside!"
His figure flickered, turning into an afterimage as he shot out of the alley.
His speed was so fast that Levy and the others couldn't even track his movements; they only saw a blurry shadow flash past on the street.
"Should we... follow and see?" Jet asked hesitantly.
"Let's go." Ace took the lead.
The group rushed out of the alley and onto the street.
The scene before them made them gasp.
More than twenty mind-controlled guild members were caught in a chaotic, free-for-all brawl in the middle of the road.
Fire and ice clashed, strong winds and boulders flew wildly, and the roar of endless magical explosions filled the air.
Their eyes were blank, and their expressions were ferocious.
They fought each other like mindless beasts, completely ignoring their friendships and their own injuries.
And right in the center of this chaotic battlefield, Piedmon was performing a bizarre dance.
Yes, dancing.
He moved with comical, theatrical steps, weaving through the gaps between the deadly spells.
A fireball flew just past the brim of his hat, an ice lance grazed the edge of his clothes, a wind blade exploded at his feet, and a rock bullet shattered just above his head.
But not a single attack actually touched him.
Piedmon's agility was beyond human comprehension.
It was an absolute, flawless control over space and timing not just speed.
He seemed to predict the exact path of every attack, waiting until the absolute last second to dodge with the smallest possible movement.
Every dodge was precise to the millimeter, and every step was as elegant as it was creepy.
"Heeheehee! Come on, come on! You can't hit me!" Piedmon taunted in his shrill voice as he twirled.
The mind-controlled members attacked even more frantically, but no matter how hard they bombarded him, Piedmon remained completely unharmed in the storm of magic.
He even found time to casually adjust his bow tie.
"Are we done playing?" Piedmon suddenly stopped dancing. He tilted his head, looking at the panting, spell-casting crowd around him.
"Then it's my turn!"
He drew four longswords from his back.
Those four blades—the Trump Swords—gleamed coldly under the moonlight.
They were long and slender, the edges razor-thin, and the hilts were carved with eerie, smiling clown faces.
Just the act of unsheathing them cast a bone-chilling cold over the entire street.
"First sword: pierce the concept of 'Flame'."
Piedmon chuckled softly and threw the first sword.
It became a silver streak of light, splitting and multiplying in mid-air into dozens of phantom blades that accurately pierced the chest of every fire-magic user.
There was no blood, and there were no physical wounds.
But the moment the phantom swords struck them, the flames around them suddenly "extinguished."
The fire wasn't just put out; the very concept of "flame" had been forcibly stripped away from them.
The fire mages stared blankly at their hands, completely unable to conjure even a single spark.
"Second sword: strip the authority of 'Ice'."
The second sword was thrown.
It too turned into dozens of phantom blades, piercing the bodies of the ice mages.
The freezing air vanished, the frost melted, and their ability to control ice was completely severed.
"Third sword: sever the trajectory of 'Wind'."
"Fourth sword: shatter the favor of 'Earth'."
The third and fourth swords flew out one after another.
The roaring gales stopped, and the floating boulders crumbled.
The magical abilities of all the controlled members were stripped, severed, and shattered one by one by Piedmon's Trump Swords.
"Now for the final step!" Piedmon recalled the four swords and sheathed them on his back.
He pulled a single handkerchief from his pocket and tossed it into the sky.
"Clown Trick!"
The handkerchief unfolded in the air, rapidly stretching until it became a giant white sheet large enough to cover the entire street.
The fabric slowly floated down, draping over all twenty-plus guild members who were standing around dazed and powerless.
A bright flash of light erupted.
Three seconds later, the giant sheet shrank back down and floated gently into Piedmon's waiting hand.
On the street, all the Fairy Tail members had vanished, replaced by a scattering of chibi-style keychain dolls.
"Heeheehee, all done!" Piedmon clapped his hands in satisfaction and turned to bow to Ace and the others as they caught up.
"Lord Ace, this street is cleared! Where is the next play area?"
Ace looked at the dolls scattered on the cobblestones, then up at Piedmon's painted, smiling face.
He was silent for a few seconds before finally speaking.
"Southeast district, toward the park. The largest magic reaction is over there. It should be Freed's main base."
"Understood!" Piedmon giggled.
His figure blurred into an afterimage, disappearing down the end of the street in an instant.
Levy knelt down and carefully picked up one of the dolls from the ground.
It was another script mage she recognized.
The doll was incredibly detailed, its little face still frozen in the angry, ferocious look it had worn while being mind-controlled.
"Can they... really be changed back?" she asked, her voice trembling with worry.
"They can," Ace nodded. "Piedmon may be insane, but he never breaks a contract. If he says he can change them back, he definitely can."
He stared in the direction Piedmon had vanished with a calculating look in his eyes.
The foremost of the Dark Masters, the ruler of the Nightmare Soldiers, the Clown Emperor who delighted in toying with life and concepts—his power was incredibly dangerous and difficult to control.
Yet, it was still far preferable using him rather than the Vampire Magical Beast.
And for clearing out a city of hostages, Piedmon was the absolute best choice.
"Let's go," Ace said, turning around. "To the park. The real battle is about to begin."
The Fairy Tail civil war in Magnolia was only just reaching its climax!
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