Night has fallen.
The heavy, feather-like snow that once drifted from the sky has finally stopped.
A thick blanket of snow now covers Magnolia Town, and the children have long since fallen asleep. By morning, no doubt many snowmen will appear.
Inside the Fairy Tail Guild, the large window table still remains in disarray, its surface cluttered as it has not yet been restored. Compared to usual nights, the guild is exceptionally quiet tonight.
Perhaps afternoon festivities left everyone well-fed and eager for a good sleep. As Mirajane left with Lisanna on her back and Elfman in tow, the guild grew quieter.
In the vast guild hall, only Makarov and Gaal remained. Makarov sat at the bar and said to Gaal: "Thank you, Gaal."
Gaal smiled and replied: "It's nothing."
Makarov continued: "Growth always has its process. Just let it all out, he will come to understand eventually."
Makarov nodded and suddenly chuckled: "Once you grow up, you lose that cuteness, but you gain responsibility."
Gaal laughed and said: "That's right, not long from now. Laxus will be able to carry the banner of Fairy Tail."
Makarov shook his head and remarked: "He still has a long way to go. With you and Gildarts around, if he dreams of hoisting that banner, he'd need another twenty years of training."
Gaal clicked his tongue: "Don't set the bar so high. Laxus is already far ahead of his peers. In less than ten years, Fairy Tail will undoubtedly be the strongest guild on the Ishgar Continent. Not to mention, even the Balam Alliance would be easily overcome, let alone the trivial Grimoire Heart."
Makarov looked strangely and said: "That sounds a bit exaggerated."
Gaal laughed: "How can it not be? Just imagine the future; Ultear, Laxus, Mirajane, Erza, Gray, and Lyon are all set to become solid S-Class Mages. Add you, me, Gildarts, and Ur, and we'll have no trouble taking on the Magic Council."
When thinking of that powerful image of Fairy Tail's future, Makarov couldn't help but smile. He quickly shook his head and said: "Forget the Magic Council. After all, with something like Etherion, taking on the Balam Alliance is entirely feasible."
Gaal did not object but then asked: "By the way... what exactly is Etherion? It doesn't seem to be a product of this Ishgar Continent, does it?"
Even an empire like Alvarez, which has modernized with the help of the Mechanical Tribe and can manufacture long-range missiles, couldn't produce something like Etherion. In a land known for its spears and shields, it seems impossible to craft.
Hearing Gaal's question, Makarov answered nonchalantly: "How should I put it... It isn't a product of the current Ishgar Continent but rather of its ancient times. That Etherion likely came from excavated ruins."
Gaal inquired with curiosity: "How so?"
Makarov thought for a moment, then explained without revealing too many secrets: "Every time Etherion is released, it needs to be charged. You know that, it's a legend passed down on this continent."
Gaal nodded: "Yes, I've heard of that."
Makarov continued: "Since you know, I won't go into detail. The key to Etherion isn't the charging, but the releasing. Before each release, the guild's senior members from the Magic Council must gather and pray with sincerity to charge it. Once Etherion is fully charged, one person must recite the liberation incantation, 'Pray to the Holy Light, liberate Etherion,' to fire it."
Gaal was somewhat astonished: "Holy Light? That sounds reminiscent of some ancient deity."
Makarov nodded: "Indeed. That's why it's considered an ancient artifact. After all, on this Ishgar Continent, the gods have long become legends, and even Dragons have vanished. Although each release requires the charging of dozens of mages, the energy released far surpasses the combined magic power of thousands of mages. I suspect it is a magic product sealed with an ancient god's attack, and the charging by several dozen mages merely activates it."
Gaal shrugged and said: "I've been in the Magic Council long enough that I've wanted to study it. But that thing's defenses are too strict, I can't get close."
Makarov sighed: "No wonder. But let's keep this between us. Don't mention what I just said, only the Ten Wizard Saints should know of this."
Gaal replied: "Understood. You can count on me."
Makarov nodded before saying: "It's been a while since the war over the Grimoire Heart. I see that Gildarts hasn't encountered any Dark Guild members during his recent missions. It might be time to ease up the restrictions. What do you think?"
Gaal considered for a moment before replying: "Easing up is fine. However, we should stick to missions within the Kingdom for now. Once these youngsters grow up over the next few years, there shouldn't be any issues."
Makarov said: "Then let's ease up. These fellows have been cooped up for too long. What are your plans for the near future?"
Gaal responded: "I plan to stay in town for a while and continue my training, and perhaps do some research on a few things."
Makarov nodded: "It's good to settle down for a bit—especially with you around. Those little ones will have you to pester. Have you considered taking over as Guild Master?"
Gaal's expression turned wry as he said: "The Fourth Generation? Sounds tempting, but isn't that a bit premature?"
Makarov's eyes lit up at the prospect and he quickly asked: "So when do you think it's appropriate? I could organize a handover ceremony right away."
Gaal's mouth twitched as he looked at Makarov's eager face, then, after a moment's thought, he said solemnly: "Hmm… Let's wait until these little ones in the guild have grown into S-Class mages."
An awkward silence fell over the air.
"Brat! Dream on!" roared a voice so loud that even the guild building trembled.
Tsk… If you had what you were promising, you wouldn't be so mad!
——
Several months later.
Deep in the western forest near Magnolia Town, at Gengar's Training Ground, the skeletal Dragons in the sky were noticeably larger than before. This change was mostly due to Gengar's Legion evolving—none of the basic Gastly remain, as all have evolved into Haunter.
The skeletal Dragons flitting in the sky were actually Haunters in training. Gengar's numbers had grown from a dozen or so to over forty.
Gengar, wielding a trident in hand, looked rather imposing. Together with his forty-something Haunter, he had cleared out magical beasts from nearby towns on numerous occasions. Now they were nowhere to be seen at the training ground, off somewhere causing mischief.
Gaal didn't mind; after all, nothing could go wrong.
After several months of intensive meditation, Gaal's aura had noticeably advanced from what it was just a few months ago. His own magic reserve now exceeded the S-Class standard. He was a fully-fledged S-Class Mage now, no longer relying on equipment bonuses.
In a room at the edge of the training ground, Gaal slowly opened his eyes and glanced at the time, murmuring: "It's only been three days."