At the center of the island, everyone—guards clutching whips included—stared fixedly toward the horizon. The sky was filled with the roaring phantom of a soaring azure dragon, two towering pillars of blue lightning that seemed to pierce the heavens, spiraling gales, and thunderous explosions. It was impossible not to be drawn in by such a spectacle.
For those enslaved here, the light in their eyes grew brighter. Deep within their hearts, a belief began to take root—this time, we will be saved. A fragile yet powerful yearning for freedom surged through them.
Elsewhere on the island, an elderly man with graying hair and a hunched back muttered to himself, his eyes gleaming with a different kind of light. "Such powerful magic… who could it be? Makarov? No… the magic doesn't match. Gildarts? That's not it either. Lightning magic… could it be someone from the Magic Council?" He paused, then softly added, "Whoever it is… as long as these children are saved, that's all that matters."
In another area, a group of children—blue-haired, blond, square-faced, sharp-chinned, red-haired, black-haired, even a small cat-like girl and another sweet, fair-skinned little girl—watched the distant battle with shining eyes. Admiration, hope, longing, and a deep desire for strength filled their gazes.
"The storm's gone… Lord Kainris… nothing happened to him, right?" some guards muttered uneasily.
"That… shouldn't be possible," another replied, though uncertainty crept into his voice.
"So what do we do? Stay here… or run?" a third asked.
Similar scenes played out all across the island. Guards clustered together, whispering anxiously, their fear plain to see. They weren't fools. While some clung to the illusion that Kainris would emerge victorious, most understood the truth—they were just comforting themselves. If Kainris were still alive, he would have shown up by now, or at least sent someone. Yet no one came. Not a single reinforcement returned.
And so, fear won.
One by one, many of the remaining guards quietly fled, boarding small boats and escaping the island. Those who stayed behind were either blindly loyal or completely indoctrinated by dreams of a "Great Magic Era." By the time Arlen reached the inner island, there was barely any resistance left. Anyone foolish enough to raise a weapon against him was swiftly sent to join Kainris and the rest of the Black Magic Cult.
"I am Arlen·Viviamilio, a mage of Fairy Tail. The enemies on this island have been eliminated. Follow this path to the shore—you'll find a large ship stocked with food and water. Board it and rest. Once I've rescued everyone, I'll take you all away from here."
Facing the hopeful gazes of the captives, Arlen cleared his throat and spoke in a steady voice. What followed was an eruption of cheers, cries, and sobs of relief.
"We're… we're free!"
"Thank you, mage of Fairy Tail!"
"Thank you, Lord Arlen! Thank you for saving us from the darkness!"
At that moment, Arlen seemed to radiate an incomparable light in their eyes—a light that pierced through despair and illuminated their hearts. Even years later, none of them would forget how, in their darkest hour, a noble young man named Arlen·Viviamilio had come to save them.
One after another, they bowed deeply in gratitude before helping each other toward the ship.
Among them, however, an elderly man with white hair approached Arlen, wearing a gentle smile.
Arlen looked at him, puzzled, but before he could speak, the old man asked, "Little Ma… how is he?"
"Little Ma? You mean Guild Master Makarov?" Arlen was momentarily stunned before realizing the connection.
"That's right."
"He's doing well. And you are…?" Arlen asked curiously.
"My name is Rob. I'm a member of Fairy Tail," the old man said with a hearty laugh, turning to reveal the guild emblem on his back.
"Grandpa Rob?!" Arlen's eyes widened. "I've heard the Guild Master mention you. But… weren't you traveling? How did you end up here?"
Rob sighed. "It's a long story. I discovered these people's crimes during my travels and tried to stop them, but I was defeated by their leader, Kainris. He sealed my magic and captured me."
Then, looking at Arlen with warmth and pride, he added, "To think someone so young could defeat Kainris… it seems Fairy Tail has grown even stronger in my absence."
"You flatter me," Arlen replied with a softer tone. "Once this is over, come back to the guild with me. The Guild Master will be thrilled."
"Haha, good, good! It's about time I took it easy. The future belongs to you young people. This old man will just handle odd jobs at the guild," Rob laughed as he walked away, knowing Arlen still had work to do.
"Well, that was an unexpected bonus," Arlen murmured with a light chuckle before heading off.
The rest was straightforward. One by one, he freed all the captives and sent them to the ship. Soon, he was the only person left on the island.
Standing before the towering R-System, Arlen clicked his tongue, then drew Alaya Consciousness from his waist. A surge of immense magic erupted skyward as a blue magic circle formed beneath his feet, lightning crackling around him.
Holding the blade horizontally before his chest, arcs of lightning coiled around it, forming a miniature azure dragon. With a swift motion, Arlen plunged the blade into the ground and called out:
"Azure Dragon Break."
In an instant, violent lightning exploded outward from him in all directions, tearing the ground apart into countless fissures. From within them, streams of lightning shaped like dragons surged forward with apocalyptic force, racing toward the R-System. The lightning climbed its structure like living serpents.
Moments later, countless smaller azure dragons burst forth from the cracks, roaring as they ascended.
Arlen flicked his blade, sheathed it, and turned away without looking back.
A cold wind swept past, lifting his silver hair and crimson cloak, as behind him, the R-System erupted into a chain of massive explosions. Amid the deafening blasts and the echoing roars of dragons, Arlen's figure gradually disappeared into the forest.