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Chapter 2 - False alarm

"What are you thinking? I don't have that kind of fetish."

"That's good," Lahar let out a visible sigh of relief, then barked orders at his subordinates.

"Secure the scene. Collect all evidence. Move!"

"Yes, sir!"

The Enforcement Unit scattered at once.

Rhodes asked casually, as if making small talk, "So, how many does this make now?"

"It's already the ninth recently..."

Lahar cut himself off mid-sentence.

Technically, this wasn't information he should be sharing so freely.

But the way Rhodes asked, so naturally, so familiarly, it was as if they were colleagues chatting after work.

'How does he do that? Lahar wondered.'

'Most mages would want to stay as far away from the Council as possible.'

'Especially Fairy Tail mages.'

Rhodes frowned slightly.

"That's one more than I knew about."

He began listing names off the top of his head:

"Shadow of the Underworld. Black Mandrake. Succubus Eye...." He rattled off eight destroyed guilds in a single breath, then looked up.

"Where's the other one?"

Lahar was clearly surprised by Fairy Tail's intelligence network.

Given how much Rhodes already knew, one more name wouldn't hurt.

"The Ogre Hunters," he said.

"About eighty kilometers from Sabertooth."

"Sabertooth?" Rhodes repeated.

The emphasis wasn't lost on him.

"Yes," Lahar confirmed.

"Rufus and Orga led a team there the day before yesterday. They ran into something strange. A man who looked like a shark."

Rhodes's expression sharpened.

"That individual was preparing to evacuate," Lahar continued,

"but they stopped him. A battle broke out. More than a dozen people were poisoned, nearly killed."

"Fortunately, Doranbalt was operating nearby and managed to extract them. According to his report, the 'magic' the shark-man used was some kind of black, poisonous water."

Another demon.

Sabertooth's God Slayer, their Memory-Make mage, plus over a dozen elite members, and they were still nearly wiped out.

'The officers of Tartaros are far stronger than expected.'

Rhodes asked quietly,

"Does the Council have any internal conclusions yet? Especially about Tartaros's objective?"

"I'm sorry."

Lahar didn't clarify whether that meant no, or classified.

He had already said too much today.

In truth, some Council Members had even speculated that the ones destroying these Dark Guilds might be Crime Sorcière… or even Fairy Tail.

The Grand Magic Games winners had left a poor impression in certain circles.

Too much power. Too much spectacle. Too close to the royal family.

Not conducive to peace, they claimed.

Lahar wisely kept that to himself.

Rhodes didn't leave.

He stayed, listening as reports came in.

"Captain, all fatal wounds were caused by slashing attacks. Similar to previous cases, some victims show signs of internal organ failure."

"Captain, the Guild Master is missing. Several notable members are unaccounted for."

"Captain, magical reconnaissance is complete. No other mages detected within a ten-kilometer radius."

There were magical creatures nearby, but once identified as Rhodes's summons, no one dared mention them in front of him.

Rhodes absorbed everything silently.

This place had likely suffered the same fate as Succubus Eye.

Those with potential were taken.

Those without were meant to have their life force drained slowly.

This attacker, however, either lacked patience, or reveled in brutality.

Judging from the remains, probably both.

Half of August passed in uneasy quiet.

After leaving too many traces, Tartaros suddenly went silent.

No more attacks. No more wiped-out guilds.

But neither Sabertooth nor the Council believed it was over.

If anything, the silence only made it worse.

The calmer things were, the more oppressive the tension became.

Then, on August 17th, something finally broke the atmosphere.

Warren returned.

After months assisting in the capital's laboratories with portable communication magic crystals, he burst through the guild doors and shouted...

"I did it!"

Bang!

Confetti exploded from above.

Colorful streamers rained down, glittering in the light.

Bang-whoosh-bang!

Party poppers fired in rapid succession.

"Ohhh, congratulations!!!"

Cheers filled the hall.

Then, silence.

Warren stood frozen beneath the falling confetti, staring at his comrades still locked in celebratory poses.

"You guys…"

His voice trembled.

"You actually prepared something like this, just for me?"

Deeply moved, he wiped at the corners of his eyes.

No one spoke.

The silence stretched, awkward, painful.

Finally, Max cleared his throat.

"Uh… Warren," he said gently.

"Why did you come back today?"

"Huh?"

Warren's smile faltered.

"Because I finished the project, wait."

He blinked.

"Didn't I tell you I was coming back today?"

"No," Max replied.

"You didn't."

Warren slowly turned his head.

"Then this welcome ceremony..."

His voice died.

Max patted his shoulder sympathetically and pointed upward.

Warren followed his gaze.

Hanging from the second-floor railing was a massive banner:

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MIRAJANE!

"Ah."

Erza slapped her forehead.

"Didn't Rhodes say he'd bring Mira here at exactly 11:30?"

Levy checked the time.

"It's 11:28. There's no time to redecorate."

Lucy offered desperately,

"Should we have Elfman and Lisanna stall them outside?"

Too late.

From beyond the door came Mira's cheerful voice.

"Is that Warren?"

Warren turned stiffly.

Confetti still clung to his hair. Streamers draped his shoulders.

Behind him, a room full of people still held party poppers mid-air.

"Is this a welcome ceremony for Warren?"

Mira smiled warmly, as always.

"Welcome back."

"Th-thanks," Warren replied, forcing a smile that looked painfully close to tears.

Meanwhile, Rhodes, arm in arm with Mira, slowly swept his gaze across the guild.

This… this was the result of trusting them.

He'd taken leave, saying he'd celebrate Mira's birthday at home.

Someone overheard. Insisted on a guild banquet.

They'd all sworn up and down: Leave it to us. No problem. Don't worry.

He trusted them.

Once.

Now, under his murderous glare, everyone suddenly found the floor, ceiling, and walls extremely fascinating.

No one dared meet his eyes.

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