Searing flames instantly condensed in Hope's hand, the fire carrying a sacred golden radiance that lit the dim prison area as bright as day.
"This power…""
Sensing the might of the flames, Sol staggered back two steps, eyes wide behind his monocle. "Who on earth are you?!"
His startled roar was drowned out the next instant by an explosion.
A blinding blaze of sacred fire erupted, rolling outward in waves of scorching magical flame.
Even when Sol raised a thick earthen wall to defend, it shattered in seconds; he was blasted across the Phantom Lord hall and slammed into the far wall.
The deafening blast sent flames racing toward the guild roof. Stone and splinters rained down as every Phantom Lord Mage in headquarters plunged into chaos, bottles and gambling chips scattering across the floor.
Sol clambered up, monocle cracked, half his mustache singed. He stared in horror at the half-melted prison block.
From the fading flames emerged a figure wreathed in dying golden fire.
Hope cradled the unconscious Mirajane and, just loud enough for the two of them to hear, asked Juvia—who stood unharmed amid the blast—"Your water magic's strong; why watch me carry Mira away?"
Umbrella still open, Juvia's face and voice stayed flat. "The master ordered me to bring back Lucy Heartfilia."
"If Sol hadn't held me up, I'd never bother with the woman in your arms. And once she's caught, if Sol can't keep her, that's hardly my problem."
The moment she finished, she stepped back and vanished.
Hope's mouth twitched—her logic was airtight. Juvia reminded him of the veteran slackers from his old part-time jobs: pure coast-along attitude; unless the boss barked orders, it was none of her business.
Lucy, freed from her bonds, hurried behind Hope. Mirajane's capture had derailed their plan, but their guildmates should arrive soon.
"Hope, what do we do now?"
She glanced across the hall at the swarm of Specter Mages—at least a hundred by rough count.
Among them were two officers, Juvia and Sol, and—no doubt—Phantom Lord Jose plus the other two of the Phantom Lords Four Elements.
Hope handed Mirajane to Lucy, sprinkled a ring of seeds around them, and under Plant magic the seeds burst into a circle of magical flora shielding the pair.
"Relax. Unless a Mage on Sol's level attacks, these Plants won't break."
His reassurance calmed Lucy, though she blurted, "Then what about you? You're not charging them alone, are you?"
Hope only grinned; Lucy read the answer in his eyes.
Giving her a reassuring look, he stepped from the ruined prison block to face the tense crowd of Specter Mages.
He spotted Sol hiding at once and sneered. "Can't even take one hit? Phantom Lords Four Elements' Earth—how disappointing."
Humiliated before so many, Sol shoved past the Mages and roared, "You just caught me off-guard! Phantom brothers—get him!"
Yet the surrounding Mages only exchanged glances, no one daring to move first.
They'd seen the sacred blast send Sol flying; no one wanted to be the next casualty.
"Useless lot!"
Sol cursed, slamming his palms to the floor. "Earth Magic: Rock Concerto!"
Several jagged Stone cannonballs whistled toward Hope.
Hope never shifted his feet; a casual flick sent golden flame fanning out like dragon wings, melting the Stones to crimson magma that hissed as it hit the ground.
"Impossible!" Sol gaped as his spell was erased. He'd meant to salvage some pride—only to lose what little remained.
"Your earth magic—too slow, too weak."
Hope swept his gaze across the hall. "Phantom Lord—nothing special. Anyone else? Come together, save me the trouble."
The arrogance finally stung the Specter Mages into fury.
"Too damn cocky!"
"Teach him what Phantom Lord can do!"
"There's a hundred of us—what're we afraid of?"
"A hundred to one—advantage's ours!"
"Charge together!"
"…"
Dozens of spells flared—ice spears, wind blades, lightning, water jets—barraging Hope from every side.
Facing the storm, Hope only smiled as a golden magic circle unfolded beneath him, brilliance cloaking his body.
"Holy Blaze: Sanctified Iron Scales."
A barrier of holy, fire, and iron elements formed around him.
The Specter spells rippled across the shield—then far hotter, brighter sacred fire burst back along each line of attack.
Caught off-guard, the Mages were blown apart by the counter-flames; their formation collapsed.
Many were hurled backward, weaker ones rolling eyes-up in instant defeat.
Screams and wails filled the hall as fire raged and the air reeked of scorched cloth and flesh.
One small skill, one effortless stand—yet the spectacle was dazzling. Hope was delighted with his new magic, Dragon King · Holy Radiance.
His three older Dragon-Slaying spells still worked, now even stronger under Holy Blaze—just like the earlier fireball.
But people always favor what looks cooler, grander, and newer—especially when it's more powerful too.
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