Awkward.
If Silver had to describe his current situation with a single word, that would be it.
Awkward.
Because he truly was Gray's father.
Years ago, after Deliora killed him, Keyes, the Dark Priest, had collected his corpse, along with the bodies of countless villagers.
Keyes was one of the Nine Demon Gates, a demon whose Curse granted dominion over the dead.
At the time, he was conducting research.
Research into a single question:
How close to the living can a corpse be made?
Keyes dimly understood that he had been created for two purposes.
To kill someone. And to bring someone back.
Tragically, he could do neither.
Unwilling to disappoint Zeref, Keyes continued his efforts, experimenting endlessly before returning to his master. He studied every conceivable method of killing, yet resurrection always eluded him.
The experiment Silver belonged to was his most ambitious attempt.
If a corpse could move freely, think independently, and become indistinguishable from a living human, did that count as revival?
With that idea in mind, Silver, who had lived, acted, and existed independently for nearly seventeen years among more than three hundred test subjects, became immeasurably precious.
If such a specimen were presented to Zeref…
Would his creator finally be praised?
That hope stayed Keyes's hand.
He did not interfere with Silver's actions.
Not when Silver learned Devil Slayer Magic. Not when he quietly hunted demons across the land.
Not when he secretly plotted to overthrow Tartaros itself.
And the Demon King shared that indifference.
Whether because Silver was intended as a gift for Zeref, or because he was deemed no real threat, Tartaros left him untouched.
Once Silver's strength reached a certain threshold, he was even welcomed into the Nine Demon Gates.
Silver felt nothing for Keyes. Nothing for Tartaros.
His sole reason for existence was revenge.
Deliora had destroyed his family.
And Tartaros, like Deliora, were demons born from the Books of Zeref.
So he would destroy Tartaros.
It was only during this year's Grand Magic Games that Silver learned the truth.
Watching the broadcast.
Seeing Gray fight Lyon.
'Gray was alive.'
And so, Silver changed his plan.
He would pretend to be Deliora. Let Gray defeat him, have Gray inherit Devil Slayer Magic.
Then, Gray would destroy Tartaros in his place. The plan had proceeded perfectly.
He froze Gray's companions. Created a clean, one-on-one duel. Played the role.
And then, less than a minute ago, everything collapsed.
Why?
Why could someone break Keyes's control over a dead man?
Wasn't his Curse absolute?
Tell me, as a father, after delivering an entire performance of chuuni villain monologues, after forcing out a laugh straight from a bad stage play, after committing fully to the act...
Only to be exposed on the spot, what do you do?
In short: Silver felt unbearably awkward. He couldn't bring himself to look Gray in the eye.
So instead, he turned toward the half-mechanical, green-scaled figure beside him.
"What kind of magic is this?" he asked stiffly.
"It's called Contract of the Dead," Rhodes replied calmly. "Normally, it temporarily restores the deceased. Over time, they fade again."
He paused.
"Your case is special. I merely seized control from the one manipulating you."
Silver frowned slightly. "And its classification?"
"It counts as Dragon Slayer Magic."
Rhodes stood in his Chemtech Dragon Soul form.
A frame of gold and green membrane formed his wings. Claws and a draconic half-mask of bleak green scales wrapped his body, black alchemical tubing threading through the armor like veins.
It was brutal. Artificial. Unsettling.
The magic allowed the dead to rise in a state even better than life, but their vitality would slowly drain away regardless.
Healing could delay the end. It could not prevent it.
Rhodes had named the spell on the spot.
He rarely dared to use it.
Messing with resurrection was like lighting a beacon, curses gathered quickly.
And as Fairy Tail's moral compass, Rhodes loathed the idea of defiling corpses.
But snatching one back from a necromancer? That was fair game.
Silver gave a crooked, helpless smile. "As expected of a Ten Wizard Saint."
Rhodes returned the look calmly.
"Since you're Gray's father, I'll call you Uncle. Could you release our frozen friends?"
Silver sighed.
"I suppose I should."
With a casual wave of his hand, the ice sealing the far bank dissolved. Cracks raced outward, and the frozen figures beyond the river were freed in an instant.
Rhodes glanced at the horizon, where the sun had already begun to rise.
"Then I'll leave you to it," he said. "Under normal circumstances, you'd last until sunset. In your case… perhaps longer."
He met Silver's eyes briefly.
"Take your time. Father and son don't get moments like this often."
He clapped Gray on the shoulder, leapt onto the riverbank, and headed toward Michello's house.
He hadn't even reached the door when it burst open.
"Gray!"
"Ah...Rhodes?!"
Erza, Lucy, Natsu, and Happy spilled out in a rush.
Rhodes stepped in front of them at once.
"Gray's busy. Later."
"That guy's an enemy!" Natsu shouted. "I'll..."
Thud.
Rhodes knocked him on the head without hesitation, grabbed him by the collar, and dragged him back inside.
"In you go," he said flatly. "I'll explain."
Erza, recognizing when to stop, didn't argue. Lucy and Happy knew better than to push it.
They followed.
Inside, Rhodes immediately spotted an elderly man with orange hair and cat-like ears, about the same size as the master.
Beside him stood a young woman with braided hair and a pleated skirt, bright-eyed despite the night's chaos.
Rhodes inclined his head politely.
"Apologies for the intrusion. Master Michello. Miss Micaelia."
"You are…?" Michello hesitated.
Micaelia's eyes lit up.
"Lord Rhodes of the Ten Wizard Saints! Your duel with Jura was incredible!"
"Thank you," Rhodes replied mildly.
"So it is you." Michello's tone cooled. "What of the attack? Has the enemy been dealt with?"
"For now," Rhodes said. "But the matter isn't finished."
He studied Michello carefully.
"Do you understand your situation?"
"You mean Face," Michello said grimly.
Erza had already briefed him, but it was clear he still hadn't grasped the scale of Tartaros.
He had been frozen without even realizing how.
'If Fairy Tail hadn't arrived'...his mouth twisted bitterly.
"To be honest," Michello admitted, "I don't know where Face is at all."