Jehfrit slowly withdrew his gaze.
He released the hand pressing against his temple and silently got out of bed without saying a word.
He pulled out a card, flicked it with his finger, and instantly changed into his outfit.
Hat, suit, shoes, knee-length mage's cloak.
An all-black ensemble from head to toe.
No flashy decorations or elaborate designs.
Simple, pure black.
As if attending a solemn and somber funeral.
He was about to pick up his glasses from the table.
Mirajane quickly grabbed the glasses first, holding them gently with both hands against her chest. Her eyes were filled with worry as she spoke, her voice tinged with pleading.
"Jehfrit, don't kill anyone, promise me."
"..." Jehfrit gave a gentle smile and said, "Don't worry, I'm not someone who acts on impulse."
"But you..." Mirajane reached out to stop Jehfrit, but the scene before her eyes changed instantly.
In her hands was now a beautiful lily, still emanating fragrance.
Jehfrit had vanished without a trace.
Damn it.
My head hurts so much.
Jehfrit sat in the speeding carriage.
Already suffering from a headache, the carriage rocked violently, making it worse.
It even affected his mood.
In short.
His mood was terrible.
Usually, Jehfrit would just watch Natsu and Gray get beaten up without intervening much.
That's because he knew that such battles and injuries weren't serious for them.
Take Natsu, for instance. The beating he took from Kageyama earlier looked bad, but for someone as tough as him, it was like getting a massage.
Not all mages are adept at direct combat, so there are ways to avoid fighting while still improving one's strength.
But those skilled in direct combat, like Natsu, must undergo rigorous training and battles to become strong.
The Fairy Tail in the anime might be a fairy tale world.
The Fairy Tail Jehfrit knew was nothing like the stories. It was brutal. Unforgiving.
When he was just a boy, he watched two mages clash in the streets—one wielding flames, the other shadows. Their duel ended not in honor, but in horror.
The victor ripped the loser's head from his body and—right there, in the open—twisted it into a cursed artifact of dark magic. Then he turned on the widow.
Jehfrit saw everything.
He had no staff-sword. No pistol. Only a fruit knife stolen from a merchant's cart. He crept up behind the man, hands trembling, heart pounding—and stabbed.
The blade sank in.
The smell was foul.
The blood, thick and hot—darker than pig's blood.
Worse than any pig's scream was the gasp that escaped the man's throat.
Then he turned.
A face that could've been his own—nose, mouth, eyes—all twisted in shock and fury.
Those eyes. They didn't forgive.
That day, Jehfrit learned something carved deeper than any spell:
Failure isn't falling. Failure is dying.
Therefore, Jehfrit never stopped his companions from growing stronger.
Even though the pursuit of strength is fraught with hardship and difficulty, that's the price of becoming strong.
But that doesn't mean he'll stand by and let his friends be gravely injured!
Levy can't!
Lucy can't!
Gray can't!
Even Natsu, whom he trusted the most, if someone were to break his limbs or even kill him...
Jehfrit used the ring finger of his left hand to adjust his glasses, but his hand lingered there, covering half his face. His eyes behind the lenses remained calm, betraying no emotion.
At the Phantom Lord Guild Headquarters.
'Boom'
Makarov Dreyar, the Guild Master of Fairy Tail, unleashed his magical power at a level worthy of the Ten Wizard Saints, causing the earth to tremble!
Jose Porla, the Guild Master of Phantom Lord, sat on his throne, watching the furious Makarov without a hint of concern, appearing quite relaxed.
He swirled the red wine in his glass and said, "Makarov, I believe the last time we met was six years ago at a regular meeting. You had quite the arrogant attitude back then, and I remember it vividly."
"Six years have passed, and your magical power has weakened considerably. You're moving from old age towards death."
Six years ago.
During the regular meeting of guild masters.
Jose and Makarov, after getting drunk, argued over who was the top guild in Fiore, leading to a fight that ended with Jose's defeat.
This grudge.
Jose had harbored it for six years.
So over the years, he kept causing trouble for Fairy Tail.
Makarov endured it again and again; he didn't want to start a war easily—wars lead to injuries, even deaths!
Even when their guild building was destroyed, he didn't take it to heart.
But!
"When children bleed, no parent stays silent!"
These were the words Makarov uttered in anger upon seeing Levy and the others' grievous injuries!
If Phantom Lord wants a fight, then let's have one!
Jose had crossed the line of an old member of the Ten Wizard Saints!
Makarov unleashed an even more terrifying surge of magical power.
"I'm not here to chat, Jose!"
With that angry declaration, he threw a punch at Jose, utilizing his magic to transform his fist into a giant's hand, exuding immense intimidation!
"Dark Spiral!"
Jose twisted his Shade magic into a massive, rapidly spinning spiral, crashing it directly into Makarov's fist.
'Boom'
The entire Phantom Lord castle shook violently!
A stalemate.
"Haha, Makarov, I didn't actually want it to end like this!"
Jose said, "However..."
'Zzzz'
A shadow appeared on the broken floor.
A bound, blonde-haired girl lying on the ground.
"Lucy!" Makarov exclaimed in shock.
'Zz'
Another shadow emerged, this time a member of Phantom Lord holding a knife, ready to strike!
"Damn it, stop!"
Makarov was shocked, leaving him momentarily vulnerable!
A green shadow stealthily appeared behind him!
"How... how tragic!"
Suddenly appearing behind Makarov was a tall man with white cloth covering his eyes, crying loudly—Aria, the leader of the Element Four!
"A great mage is about to fall!"
Aria cast his magic, capable of draining all of an enemy's magical power!
No!
Makarov was shocked, but it was too late to dodge!
At that moment, Jose chuckled and said, "Toying with you and achieving victory in a more effortless way, witnessing your downfall personally, this kind of victory isn't bad either!"
The light of magic enveloped Makarov!
Just at this critical moment!
'Bang'
A gunshot rang out.
The magic was interrupted.
Aria was shocked and clutched his pierced hand, quickly jumping away from Makarov to avoid being punched to death by the now-alert member of the Ten Wizard Saints.
"Jehfrit." Makarov looked in surprise at the newcomer standing at the doorway.
Jehfrit leaned against the doorframe, looking unusually disheveled.
One hand held a gun, while the other pressed against his chest, panting heavily.
Not particularly physically fit, he had rushed over as fast as possible after sensing the collision of two master-level magical forces.
Finally managing to prevent Makarov from being ambushed!
*Inhale—*Exhale—*
Jehfrit regulated his breathing.
He shook his head.
Due to this intense physical exertion, his blood pressure spiked, making his already painful headache even worse.
He adjusted his glasses and slowly walked over to the guild master, looking at Jose and Aria with a calm tone and said, "Two versus two."
"Ah, what a pity." Jose's voice was full of regret, "We can't win in an easy way anymore, Makarov. You really have an excellent successor."