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[ okey this chapter is rough outline of how i want story to go , to be honest i don't think it came out how i wanted , of you have suggestion , find inconsistency or mistake , do msg me and we'll try to fix it ]
Down in the vaulted underground chamber, the gaunt cult leader finally noticed me walking casually right toward his sacred altar. He hoisted his bone dagger, his face twisting into a furious snarl. "Who the hell are you?! Guards—"
He didn't even get to finish the threat.
I didn't waste time talking, and I didn't bother swinging my staff. I blurred forward, sliding right inside his guard, drew the shortsword hidden beneath my high-collared, white-and-purple coat, and drove the blade straight through his chest.
The gaunt man froze, his bone dagger clattering onto the gravel. Blood pooled at the corners of his mouth as he stared up at my face, weakly clutching my sleeves. "You're... too late, brat," he wheezed. "My mistress... she'll track your signature. She'll freeze your pathetic little guild into ash..."
I just tilted my head, my long white hair shifting over my shoulder. "Your mistress? Right. Because fighting all these low-tier human grunts was getting incredibly boring anyway."
I yanked the blade out, letting his lifeless body slump heavily against the base of the altar. Not a single drop of blood ruined my fresh white coat, thank god.
Solomon. Keep the 1% restriction valve locked down on my container, but give me a temporary output spike on my eyes. Let's look further out.
[Notice: Request processed. Upgrading Sha Naqba Imuru output to 10% capacity. Temporal and spatial boundaries expanded.]
A sudden wave of raw visual data flooded my brain. The limestone cave completely melted away from my sight. The solid stone walls, the mountains, and the entire continent of Ishgar flattened out into a massive web of historical timelines and magical vectors.
My vision shot backward through the last four years, tracing the greasy purple thread of the soul-link directly out of the cult leader's corpse. It bypassed the Magnolia merchant syndicate entirely, shooting straight across the borders of the Fiore kingdom, traveling hundreds of leagues to the far north—straight into the frozen wilderness of the northern ice country where Gray's backstory eventually takes place.
Deep within a massive mountain fortress of black ice, my sight locked onto the true origin point of the curse. Sitting on a throne of jagged frost was an entity that didn't possess a single shred of human Ethernano. An Etherious entity straight from the Books of Zeref: Khione, the Frost Weaver. I could see her timeline stretching out—using the human greed of the nobles and merchants to orchestrate this massive Trade War like a game of chess, farming human souls to build a curse beacon large enough to catch Zeref's attention.
The vision snapped shut, the dark cave walls rushing back into view as the gold world-sight faded.
"Well, damn," I muttered, casually wiping my blade before shearing it away. "A literal Demon of Zeref is running a trade war from the north pole."
I turned away from the altar and walked over to the back wall. Dozens of iron cages were shoved into the shadows, packed full of shivering, pale villagers from the outer valleys. They were staring at me through the bars, completely terrified.
"Alright, you're fine," I said, tapping my staff against the first heavy lock. [Notice: 1% Reinforcement Magic applied to physical structural joints.] The iron snapped instantly with a loud crack. I moved down the row, popping the rest of the cells open one by one. "The guards outside are unconscious, and this guy is done. Get moving before the cave gets any colder."
An older village man practically tumbled out of his cage, his legs shaking so badly he could barely stand. I reached out and caught his shoulder, holding his weight effortlessly.
"Thank you... thank you, young master," the old man rasped. "We thought we were dead. The guards told us nobody was looking for us. They said the new Magic Council doesn't care about the outer settlements, and that the Magnolia merchants owned the whole valley anyway."
I gave him a quick grin. "The Council might be slow, but they definitely don't own this place. Fairy Tail does. Let's get everyone moving out."
By the time I led the thirty villagers out into the open air, the artificial winter storm had completely given up. The howling wind died down into a regular breeze, and the heavy fog was already lifting from the mountain paths. We walked down the pass for about an hour before we finally hit the main canyon road, running right into the back of Fairy Tail's captured wagon line.
"Merlin! Look at all this!" Yuri shouted from the driver's seat of the lead cart, waving his arms around. "Mavis's giant phantom soldiers completely terrified those mercenaries, man! They threw their weapons in the snow and ran off!"
Mavis was standing by the horses, looking incredibly pleased with herself, but the second she saw the crowd of bruised, shivering refugees trailing behind my white coat, her smile dropped completely.
"Merlin..." Mavis ran over, looking at the tattered shawls and the scarred wrists of the villagers. "Who are they? What was up in those caves?"
"The blockade was a setup, Mavis," I said, leaning my weight casually against my staff. "The merchant syndicate hired the mercenaries to trap the food wagons, but the whole thing was just a cover story. They set up a dark Zeref cult in the caves to kidnap these people for a sacrifice ritual while the town was cut off."
Yuri's jaw dropped, his lightning sparks instantly cutting out. Precht's hand went straight to his dagger hilt. "A sacrifice coven? Right under our noses?"
"Yeah," I nodded, looking at Mavis. "And Solomon tracked the magic signature before I dropped the leader. The ritual circle wasn't independent. It was tied via a direct, physical soul-link to the head of the rival merchant syndicate back in town. The guy running the blockade is the one farming our neighbors for black magic."
Mavis stared at me, all the color completely draining from her face. Her small fists clenched so hard her knuckles turned white.
"They used... the townspeople... for profit?" she whispered, her green eyes turning incredibly dark and sharp.
"The grunts are gone," I said, pointing down the road. "But the boss is still sitting in his warm office thinking he's safe. Let's go pay him a visit."
We didn't even make it past the stone archway of the Magnolia town gates before we hit a wall. Standing right in the middle of the road was a squad of six heavily armored wizards wearing the silver-trimmed robes of the new Magic Council Investigators. Right behind them, looking entirely smug, was the corrupt merchant syndicate leader himself, flanked by his personal bodyguards.
"Hold it right there, freshmen," the lead Council investigator barked, stepping forward and resting his hand on his runic baton. "We've received an official report from the Merchant Guild. Fairy Tail has illegally interfered with a private commercial boundary and stolen private cargo wagons."
"Stolen cargo?!" Yuri shouted back, looking ready to jump off the wagon and break the guy's nose. "We just saved the town's winter food from a bunch of mercenary thugs!"
"The blockade was a legal contract registered under corporate territorial rights," the merchant leader spoke up, stepping out with a greasy smile. "You kids are playing vigilante. Investigators, arrest them. And seize my wagons immediately."
Mavis stepped to the front of our group, her white flag canvas clutched tightly in her hands. "The wagons contain local relief supplies, officer. And we didn't just find flour in the canyon."
She stepped aside, revealing the thirty battered, scarred refugees standing behind the cargo wood. The lead investigator blinked, his arrogant stance faltering slightly. "What is the meaning of this? Who are these people?"
"These are the citizens of the outer valleys," Mavis said, her green eyes locking onto the corrupt merchant. "They were abducted under the cover of the blockade. Merlin, show them the anchor."
I stepped forward, a massive, smug grin hitting my face as I reached into my white coat. I pulled out a tiny, sealed glass marble throbbing with a greasy purple light—the isolated soul-link frequency Solomon had ripped from the cult leader's corpse.
"Alright, Council suits, let's run some fast data," I laughed, tossing the marble lightly in my hand. "Solomon. Project the target frequency map. Let's show these guys exactly where this dark magic link terminates."
[Notice: Active soul-link frequency scan authorized. Projecting local target alignment grid.]
A sudden ripple of glowing runic text spilled out from the marble, casting a projection directly across the town gate archway. A glowing violet line shot straight out of the glass sphere, bypassing the guards entirely, and anchored itself firmly to the chest of the corrupt merchant leader.
"No... that's... that's a fake! It's an illusion!" the merchant shrieked.
"An illusion doesn't carry a registered, negative Ethernano frequency signature, idiot," I deadpanned, resting the base of my staff against the cobblestones.
I let the safety valve on my container slip by a fraction of a millimeter.
I didn't cast a spell. My raw Ethernano just spilled into the open air. The atmospheric pressure around the gate dropped like a stone, making the massive stone archway groan. The Council wizards' knees buckled instantly, their breath completely caught in their throats as their internal magic containers violently vibrated in total submission.
"Let's get one thing completely straight," I said, my voice smooth, casual, and filling the entire space as my white robes flared slightly in the cold wind. "The Magic Council is a brand-new system. You guys barely have enough authority to handle basic municipal laws in the capital, let alone the power to stop the dozens of rogue, cutthroat guilds currently tearing across the continent of Ishgar. If your corporate licenses aren't going to protect this man from a black magic treason charge, your silver robes certainly aren't going to save him from me."
I cleanly snapped the safety valve back onto my container. The suffocating pressure vanished in a split second, leaving the investigators gasping for air on the cobblestones.
The lead Council investigator looked at the glowing purple line anchored to the merchant, his previous arrogance entirely gone. He turned around, his baton clicking against his palm as his squad instantly surrounded the trembling merchant. "Syndicate Leader. Under the primary decrees of the Magic Council, you are under arrest for illegal cult financing and high treason against the kingdom."
"Wait! You can't do this!" the merchant shrieked as the guards slammed iron suppression cuffs onto his wrists. "The noble house in the capital... they'll ruin you for this! They funded the—"
The investigator slammed a silence rune over his mouth, dragging him away into the town square. Mavis watched them go, her face dead serious as she looked over the captured flour wagons and the crowd of cheering townspeople who were already flooding the streets to welcome the refugees.
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[ If you want to read an extra chapter ahead, go check out the p@treon
Search for foresight_geek or https://[email protected]/c/foresight_geek,
you can buy a membership for the entire month just for -- 1$ ]