This magical fragrance was crafted by Ichiya.
Regaining his senses, Jura propped himself up with his staff and glared at the squat man now in front of him. "Who… exactly… are you?"
"Worthy of the Ten Wizard Saints—but it's already too late."
Ichiya toyed with the now-empty perfume bottle. "That ugly freak looked hideous, but his Aroma Magic is formidable; a single perfume could rob Stone-Iron Jura of his fighting strength."
In a flash of light, Ichiya split into two tiny blue sprites.
"That creep's head is full of perverted nonsense."
"Totally, totally—what a lousy adult."
Watching the two mini-sprites bad-mouth Ichiya, Jura's face darkened. The Ichiya just now had been these Celestial Spirits—so where was their Celestial Spirit Mage? And where was the real Ichiya?
Where was Ichiya?
Just then, from the direction of the restroom, a graceful figure approached.
A white-haired beauty in a deep-V feathered mini-dress—one of the Six, the Angel.
She idly twirled a golden key emblazoned with the Gemini constellation. "I had Gemini copy Ichiya. That greasy old man was filthy, yet oh-so-useful."
"Not only did I learn your entire battle plan, I could also eliminate the greatest threat in the Guild Alliance."
Angel produced a silver key, summoning her contracted Caelum Spirit. Under Jura's grim gaze the spherical mechanical spirit morphed into a longsword.
"Anyone who dares disrupt our plans, I'll personally punish."
Watching Angel charge with her blade, Jura felt nothing but bitterness.
The Council's intelligence was utterly worthless; a Ten Wizard Saint was about to die in disgrace—probably the most humiliating fate any Saint in Ishgar had ever suffered.
Jura closed his eyes in resignation.
A sharp whistle of air interrupted the sword-thrust, knocking Caelum's trajectory aside.
Seeing a staff suddenly block her blade, Angel's face changed. Hadn't every member of the Alliance already set out? Who could still be here?
At that moment, a countdown echoed through the hall.
"Five."
"Four."
An inexplicable unease crept over Angel; she scanned her surroundings warily, but found nothing.
Unable to spot the enemy, Angel dismissed Gemini's gate and drew another golden key. "Open, Gate of the Ram—Aries!"
With a chime the two mini-sprites vanished, replaced by a new gate from which stepped a delicate girl in white wool, pink hair and curved horns.
Angel yanked Aries in front of herself as a shield.
Though the Ram Spirit lacked offensive power, her fleece magic offered solid defense, and a spirit's immortality made her the perfect meat-shield.
Seeing her summoner shove her forward, Aries almost wept; why did both her masters use her this way? "Three."
"Two."
The countdown only heightened Angel's dread. She reshaped Caelum into a giant shield at her back, finally feeling safe.
With defenses this layered she was certain she could handle whatever came next.
"One."
The instant the count ended an overwhelming drowsiness struck; Angel couldn't resist even a second before her head drooped and she crumpled to the floor.
Staring at her fallen summoner, Aries froze, then knelt and shook Angel frantically, trying to wake her.
"Sorano, wake up! Now's no time for a nap!"
"So her real name is Sorano."
The air rippled as Mystogan in black robes materialized silently beside Aries, startling her; yet, trembling and flickering, she still shielded Angel behind her.
Powerful golden spirits can remain in the human world by their own will when their summoner falls unconscious.
Noticing the shivering Ram, Mystogan merely pulled his staff from the floor and helped Jura up. "Don't worry; Ichiya's in the washroom—I've already roused him."
Jura gave a wry smile. "Thank you, Mystogan. Without you Ichiya and I would likely be dead."
Bruised and swollen, Ichiya strutted back into the hall, soaked from head to toe—one could guess how Mystogan had chosen to wake him.
"Such a disgrace, Man~"
Though Angel and Gemini had pummelled his face black-and-blue, Ichiya still struck his usual dashing pose.
The man's vanity knew no bounds.
Mystogan and Jura shook their heads in unison.
Learning Jura had been incapacitated by his combat-nullifying fragrance, Ichiya at once produced an antidote perfume.
One whiff and Jura's strength returned.
Ichiya retrieved the Dragon Perfume bottle. "I brewed this to use against the Six, yet in the end it was wasted on you, Jura."
Jura didn't mind; if the scent could affect him, it would work on the enemy—once the Six inhaled it their raid would be all but finished.
Alas, Ichiya possessed only that single bottle; crafting a fragrance potent enough to disable a Mage of Jura's calibre was no easy feat.
Assured the two were safe, Mystogan departed; with Natsu's impulsiveness the Salamander might already be nearing the Six's temporary base.
Jura and Ichiya quickly boarded the magical strike-craft christina parked behind the villa. Angel's interference had cost them the element of surprise; now they had to reach the battlefield fast.
Aboard the craft Ichiya gripped the helm.
Jura bound Angel with Stone magic and then roused her. "Angel—or should I say, Sorano?"
Still drowsy, Sorano snapped awake; seeing her body encased in rock she gave a bitter smile. "Sorano… no one's called me that in ages. That useless Aries told you, didn't she?"
Jura frowned. "A Dark Mage through and through. The 'useless' spirit you speak of forced herself to keep protecting you while you lay unconscious."
Sorano blinked; the weak Ram, treated so poorly, had still defended her. "…Useless."
Hearing the sudden remark, Jura asked, "What's useless?"
"Your Guild Alliance is doomed to fail," Sorano murmured, eyes on the drifting clouds, a flicker of longing in her gaze.
"Jellal, Jose—"
"With two Ten Wizard Saints on our side, wounded though they are, handling you lot will be child's play."
Jura's face paled. Jellal had died in the Tower of Paradise incident—yet here was Jose, long missing, allied with the Oración Seis.
"Damn it! Ichiya—full throttle!"
"Man!" Ichiya shoved the lever; christina's engines roared as the craft surged forward.
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