"So that's the situation. Rhodes will be stationed at Council headquarters going forward. I only need to check in for the next few days."
Makarov finished explaining the arrangement and instructed Mira and Erza to keep the guild running smoothly while he and Rhodes were away.
"As expected, the Master isn't actually necessary!" Several guild members seized the opportunity to take shots at him with gleeful enthusiasm.
Most of the others were celebrating for a different reason entirely.
Two Council members from the same guild. Didn't that mean they could cause all the collateral damage they wanted on missions and never worry about being arrested?
"Don't get excited." Rhodes read their faces like an open book. "Now that we're Council members, we have to lead by example. If you cause the same kind of destruction as before, it'll be incredibly convenient for us to have you arrested."
He paused to let that sink in.
"In fact, this way, the Master and I get the credit for disciplining our own guild. You get a lesson in accountability. And the guild's financial losses from damage claims go down." He held up three fingers. "Three birds with one stone."
"DESPICABLE!"
"That's too far!"
"Cold-blooded!"
Rhodes weathered the storm of outrage with a straight face. Behind him, Makarov stroked his chin thoughtfully, then slammed his fist into his palm.
"That makes sense! I never thought of it that way!"
Everyone turned in horror. "MASTER!"
The news of the new Council's formation spread across the continent early the next morning.
Just as Org had hoped, the fact that all seven members were Wizard Saints gave the public an immediate sense of reassurance. The strongest mages on the continent, collectively stepping up to lead. It was exactly the kind of message the magical world needed to hear.
Some observers were curious about why God Serena was absent from the lineup, but the official announcement offered no explanation, and nobody else could provide one either.
Seven was enough. With the caliber and reputation of these seven, the public was willing to trust that peace would hold.
Jura and Bryliens arrived at Fairy Tail right on time the next morning. Makarov and Rhodes were already waiting.
Seeing the travel-worn look on both of them, Rhodes asked, "Do you want to grab breakfast before we head over?"
Jura waved the offer off. "I ate on the way."
Bryliens shook his head. "No need. The work waiting for us is more important."
Rhodes nodded. "Alright then. Let's go."
Jura glanced at him. "Aren't you bringing any luggage?"
He'd packed a full bag for what he expected to be an extended stay at Council headquarters. Bryliens had brought a suitcase as well, planning to be on-site for at least several days.
Rhodes shrugged. "No need. I can commute."
Jura blinked. Then remembered that the entire reason they were here was because Rhodes's transportation magic could cross continents in seconds.
"That really is convenient."
Makarov spent a few final minutes giving instructions to the "children." Rhodes simply waved to Mira. He'd be home by evening anyway.
Blue light enveloped all four of them, and in an instant, they crossed thousands of kilometers of mountains, rivers, and coastline to arrive at the Council's temporary headquarters.
The inauguration ceremony was simple. Deliberately so.
The Council flag was raised in front of the ruins. The seven new members stood in a row before it. Every staff member and soldier at headquarters gathered to witness.
The oath was brief.
"The Council was established by the people of the Ishgar continent, for the people of the Ishgar continent."
"The seven of us will lead all Council personnel in working toward the stability of the magical world and striving for peace across the entire continent."
"The Council was born in the aftermath of war, born for peace. From this day forward, it will continue to fight to keep the people of this land far from the horrors of conflict."
After the oath, Lahar stepped forward holding a ceremonial tray. Behind him, Doranbalt pushed Org's wheelchair into position.
Org reached into the tray and lifted out cloaks bearing the Council emblem and the badge of the Ten Wizard Saints. He presented them to each of the seven new Council members in turn.
He would have draped them over their shoulders himself. Tradition demanded it. But his body no longer allowed for that, and the gesture was quietly omitted.
The seven donned their cloaks.
Then Org reached up and removed his own. He folded it carefully, precisely, and placed it back on the tray.
The soldiers watching the ceremony saluted him first. Crisp. Unified. A final show of respect and gratitude for the man who had held things together through two destructions of the institution he'd served his entire life.
Then they turned and saluted the new Council members. A different salute. Not farewell. A request. Lead us forward.
The ceremony had been conducted in front of ruins. There was no grand hall. No marble floors. No audience of dignitaries. Just scaffolding, tents, and soldiers standing on cleared rubble.
And yet the atmosphere was more solemn than any ceremony held in the old palace could have been.
Even Rhodes, who hadn't taken the appointment particularly seriously until now, felt the weight settle onto his shoulders under all those expectant eyes.
After the formal handover of power, Lahar and Doranbalt stepped forward to receive their new appointments under the restructured Council.
Org sat alone in his wheelchair, slightly off to the side. He wasn't part of the proceedings anymore.
And for the first time in a very long time, the old man looked at peace. The burden had been passed. The Council would go on. His face was full of quiet relief and deep, earned gratitude.
But compared to the people gathered together, standing shoulder to shoulder in their new cloaks, Org looked so alone.
Rhodes glanced at the old man and felt a quiet ache in his chest.
Org met his gaze. And smiled. An encouraging look. Go on. Do the work.
Rhodes nodded and turned his attention back to the proceedings.
But he made a quiet decision in that moment. If being a Council member was what the situation demanded, then fine. He'd serve. But he would never be a guild master.
He truly didn't want to see Makarov end up like that someday. Sitting alone in a wheelchair while the world moved on without him.
The ceremony ended. If nothing unexpected happened, tomorrow's headlines would be about the official birth of the new Council.
That part had little to do with Rhodes and the others.
Because all seven of them threw themselves into work immediately.
Org didn't leave, of course. He spent the rest of the day carefully handing over everything he'd organized during the crisis, briefing each new Council member on the state of their respective responsibilities.
As interim Chairman, Hyberion would oversee the Council's general direction. His first task was drafting several short addresses to boost morale across the various departments. The organization had been shaken to its core. People needed to hear from the top.
Wolfheim took charge of the Enforcement Unit. Reorganization and retraining, top to bottom. In a few days, the prison staff would get the same treatment. He was not known for being gentle about these things.
Warrod, being both indifferent to power and universally respected, was assigned financial supervision. Nobody objected. If there was one person in the room who could be trusted to oversee the Council's money without a hint of temptation, it was the man who had spent the last several decades planting trees.
Bryliens assumed leadership of the research and weapons departments. This was his area of expertise. He was already planning improvements to the Council's standard-issue arrest and defense equipment, and the prison facilities would be overhauled after his personal inspection.
Jura handled external affairs. In the coming weeks, political figures from kingdoms across Ishgar would arrive to meet the new Council on behalf of their monarchs. Officially, these were diplomatic visits. In practice, they were also inspections. The Council governed the entire continent's magical affairs, and the kingdoms wanted assurance that the new leadership was legitimate.
Jura was the perfect fit. His manner was warm and approachable. His speech was humble and polite. And when the situation demanded firmness, he could project an authority that brooked no argument. Diplomats would feel welcomed. Anyone testing the Council's resolve would be reminded not to.
Makarov drew reconstruction duty.
Rhodes had volunteered him for this. His reasoning: the old man had extensive experience overseeing the rebuilding of Fairy Tail's guild hall, which had been destroyed on multiple occasions. Presiding over the Council's reconstruction would be no different.
Makarov couldn't exactly argue with the logic.
Conveniently, this was also a short-term assignment. Once the building was up, Makarov's on-site obligations would wind down. Which suited everyone.
Rhodes himself took on clerical and administrative work.
It sounded easy. It was anything but.
Archive management. Interdepartmental meeting records. Drafting critical documents and orders. Preliminary budget reviews for multiple departments. Correspondence. Filing. Approvals.
The vast majority of paper that moved through the entire Council passed through his hands.
He wasn't doing this alone, in theory. This workload was supposed to be handled by an entire department. Dozens of staff. Clerks, archivists, analysts, secretaries.
But unfortunately, the department that had been responsible for all of this had been located on the same floor as the eight Council members who died in the bombing.