[FT: O King of the Fairies] Chapter 71 

The airship hummed softly as it cut through the sky, the once-tense atmosphere now eerily calm. I leaned back against the wall, arms crossed, staring out the window as the landscape blurred beneath us.

Ur and Ultear were in one of the cabins. Together.

Ur refused to leave her side, as if afraid that Ultear would disappear if she so much as blinked. It made sense. She had spent years mourning the child she thought she lost. And Ultear… Ultear had spent years believing she was unwanted.

Now that they had found each other again, neither was willing to let go.

I had given Ur a senzu bean earlier to heal the wounds Ultear had unintentionally inflicted. She had taken it without hesitation—probably more out of necessity than anything else. The injuries had been bad, and while I knew she was stubborn enough to ignore the pain, I wasn’t going to let her.

Gildarts was out cold. He was tough, but even he had limits. The fights, the stress, the weight of everything that had happened—it had drained him more than he’d admit. So, after making sure his wounds weren’t anything serious, I tossed him a senzu bean and let him rest.

That just left me.

And the remains of Grimoire Heart.

Or, more accurately—what used to be Grimoire Heart.

The ship? Gone. Precht’s so-called paradise of darkness? Gone.

The moment our fight ended, I destroyed everything.

The ship was reduced to rubble. The Devil’s Heart? Erased. Whatever connection Precht had to it was severed, and I made sure nothing remained of that twisted abomination.

As for the rest?

Some died fighting. Some tried to flee. Some begged for their lives.

It didn’t matter.

I left nothing behind.

There was no going back now.

Grimoire Heart was gone. Precht was dead. The Seven Kin were erased. Their ship was nothing but wreckage scattered across the land.

I had made sure of it.

And yet, as I sat in the quiet hum of the airship, staring at the vast horizon stretching endlessly before me, I couldn’t help but wonder—what happens next?

Canon was already shattered beyond recognition. My presence alone had changed everything. Laxus was a monster. Gildarts knew about Cana. Ur never died. And now?

Now, Grimoire Heart—the biggest dark guild of this era—was wiped out years before it should have even made its move.

Would Zeref even care?

Would someone take Precht’s place?

Would another threat rise in their absence?

And then there was the Magic Council. They had barely been able to handle Grimoire Heart in canon. Now, with a power vacuum left behind, would they see me as the bigger problem?

I exhaled, rubbing the back of my neck.

The Magic Council was going to lose their minds over this.

Grimoire Heart was a nightmare to deal with even at their peak. The fact that an independent force—me—had taken it upon myself to erase them from existence? That would send waves through every governing body in Fiore.

The Council liked to pretend they were in control. That they had power.

But the reality?

They only ever reacted.

And this? This was too big to ignore.

Would they come after me? Probably. Not immediately, though. They’d want to understand what happened first. Investigate. Figure out if I was a problem they could control… or one they couldn’t.

And if they decided I was a threat?

Well.

They’d learn the hard way.

As for the power vacuum left behind—someone was going to take advantage of it. That was just how these things worked. Maybe one of the lesser dark guilds would rise up. Maybe a new faction would emerge entirely.

Or maybe…

Tartaros.

I frowned at the thought. They had always been in the background, biding their time, waiting for their moment. If they sensed weakness, they might accelerate their plans.

Either way, it didn’t change what I had to do.

Fairy Tail comes first.

Everything else?

It didn’t matter.

I wasn’t about to lose sleep over it.

I’d deal with it when the time came.

—-

Makarov leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled, his usual jovial expression nowhere to be found. His gaze flickered between me and Gildarts, the weight of our conversation settling into the silence.

"So," he exhaled, "Grimoire Heart is gone?"

Gildarts nodded. "Completely wiped out. Their ship, their base, their leadership—Aiden made sure of that."

Makarov's eyes narrowed slightly as he turned to me. "And Precht?"

I met his gaze without hesitation. "Dead. I severed his connection to the Devil's Heart. He didn’t last long after that."

Makarov let out a slow breath, sinking deeper into his chair.

Precht.

The second master of Fairy Tail.

A man who once held the same position Makarov did now. A man they all thought had just… disappeared.

He had been one of them.

And yet, he was the one who had nearly led the world into darkness.

Gildarts folded his arms. "We saw it with our own eyes, old man. He fell deep. Really deep."

Makarov remained silent. His age showed in moments like this. Not because he was weak—but because he carried so much.

After a long pause, he finally spoke.

"I knew he had left Fairy Tail to seek knowledge," Makarov admitted, his voice low. "But I never imagined… this." He shook his head. "He was once a great man. One of the strongest we ever had."

Gildarts grunted. "Doesn't change what he became."

Makarov looked up. His gaze settled on me.

"You knew, didn’t you?"

I didn’t answer immediately. I always knew. But admitting that? It wouldn't do any good.

"...I had my suspicions," I said instead.

Makarov sighed. "If only things had been different."

Gildarts scoffed. "No use thinking like that. We deal with the world as it is, not how we want it to be."

Makarov chuckled, though there was no humor in it. "Spoken like a man who’s seen too much."

I leaned back against the wall. "So… what happens now?"

Makarov closed his eyes for a moment. "Now?" He opened them again, meeting my gaze with something sharp. Something knowing. "Now we prepare for whatever comes next."

—-

The Magic Council – Era

The council chamber was eerily silent. The usual arguments, the bickering, the pompous speeches—none of that mattered now.

At the head of the long table, a sharp-eyed man in regal robes sat forward, his fingers tapping against the polished wood. Gran Doma, the Chairman of the Magic Council, exhaled slowly, his expression unreadable.

"Confirm it again," he ordered.

The Rune Knight standing before them hesitated before nodding. "Yes, sir. Grimoire Heart has been completely annihilated. Their flagship, their forces, their leader—everything has been wiped out."

A murmur rippled through the council members. Some in shock, others in deep contemplation.

"By whom?" one of the older councilors pressed.

The Rune Knight hesitated. "We… we believe it was Fairy Tail."

Another wave of murmurs.

Gran Doma’s fingers stopped tapping. His eyes darkened. "Fairy Tail. Again."

An elderly councilor with a long mustache scowled. "First, they cause destruction everywhere they go. Now they’re eliminating dark guilds on their own? What are they, vigilantes?"

Another council member scoffed. "And yet, if we had acted sooner, we wouldn’t be having this conversation."

A younger councilor, one who had been silent until now, leaned forward. "With Grimoire Heart gone, a massive power vacuum has opened up. The underworld won’t take this lying down."

Gran Doma clenched his jaw. "And neither will we. Fairy Tail cannot be allowed to act without consequences."

The murmurs grew louder.

The council knew one thing for certain—this was only the beginning.

—-

A low, amused chuckle echoed through the dimly lit chamber.

"So…" A deep, almost inhuman voice mused, "Grimoire Heart is no more."

Dark figures loomed around the room, their crimson eyes glowing in the shadows.

Sitting on a throne of blackened bone, Mard Geer rested his chin on his hand, a smirk playing at his lips. "I can’t say I’m surprised. Precht was always so obsessed with Zeref, so desperate to grasp power beyond his reach."

"Pathetic," one of the other demons muttered.

Another voice, cold and smooth, chimed in. "And yet, their destruction changes things. The balance of power has shifted."

Mard Geer’s smirk widened. "Yes. Yes, it has." He leaned forward, his eyes glinting with interest. "Fairy Tail… what an interesting little guild. I wonder… will they be our next amusement?"

A dark, eerie chuckle filled the chamber.

Tartaros would be watching.

—-

A single boot tapped against the stone floor, slow and deliberate.

Brain sat alone, fingers interlocked, his expression unreadable. The dim candlelight cast flickering shadows across his face, but the glint in his eyes burned with something sharp. Something dangerous.

"Grimoire Heart is gone." His voice was quiet, yet it carried a weight that filled the empty space around him. "The old fool fell, just as I knew he would."

He leaned back in his chair, exhaling through his nose.

"The Balam Alliance is broken."

A chuckle rumbled low in his throat.

"Chaos is coming."

Slowly, a smirk curled at his lips.

"And chaos… is an opportunity."

—

I pushed open the door to our bedroom, exhaustion pressing against my bones like an iron weight. The warm glow of the lanterns flickered softly, casting long shadows across the room. Everything about it felt safe—stable. Like nothing outside these walls had changed. Like I hadn’t just erased an entire dark guild from existence.

Alma sat at the edge of the bed, one leg tucked under her, her dark hair cascading over her shoulder. She had a book in her lap, but the way her sharp eyes flicked up to meet mine told me she hadn’t really been reading. She’d been waiting.

"You’re late," she murmured, setting the book aside.

I let out a long breath, rolling my shoulders as I made my way to her. "Yeah. Makarov wanted a full report. Gildarts was there too."

Alma tilted her head slightly, watching me like a cat sizing up its prey. "And?"

I sat down beside her, my hands resting on my knees. The warmth of the room, the familiar scent of Alma’s perfume—it grounded me. Still, the words felt heavier than usual.

"Grimoire Heart is gone," I said at last. "Precht is dead. The Seven Kin are either scattered or dead. Their entire fleet? Destroyed."

Alma let out a slow breath. She wasn’t surprised. Of course she wasn’t.

"And Ur?" she asked after a moment.

"She’s with Ultear," I said. "Hasn’t left her side since the battle ended. She needed to—wants to make up for all the time they lost."

Alma nodded slightly, threading her fingers through mine. "Good."

For a moment, neither of us spoke. The silence stretched, comfortable yet heavy. I could feel the unspoken words lingering in the air. The thoughts running through her mind.

Finally, she broke it.

"Precht, huh?" she murmured. "That’s still… hard to wrap my head around."

I huffed a tired laugh. "Tell me about it." I turned my gaze to the ceiling, letting my mind replay the events. 

Alma’s fingers tightened around mine. "The Precht Gaebolg? The same guy Makarov looked up to?"

"The one and only," I muttered. "Took a deep dive into the abyss and never climbed back out."

Alma let out a low whistle. "Makarov must be pissed."

"Pissed? That’s an understatement," I scoffed. "He put up a front for everyone else, but I could tell this hit him hard. Finding out the man who passed the guild onto him turned into… that? It’s gotta mess with you."

Alma was quiet for a long moment, then asked, "Why’d he do it? What was his endgame?"

I let out a humorless chuckle. "The pursuit of ‘One magic.’ That’s what he called it. He was obsessed with unlocking the greatest secrets of magic, pushing past the limits of life and death itself. That’s why he created Grimoire Heart—why he experimented with Living Magic, Black Arts, anything he could get his hands on."

Alma frowned. "That sounds like something a mad scientist would do, not a former Fairy Tail master."

I turned to her. "Because that’s exactly what he became. He wasn’t just some power-hungry tyrant. He really believed he was on the path to something greater. He has something he called the ‘Devil’s Heart’—his ultimate trump card. It gave him unnatural longevity and power. Without it, he would’ve dropped dead on the spot."

Alma blinked, then tilted her head. "Wait. Would have?"

I smirked. "Yeah. I cut off his connection to it before finishing him off. Without the Devil’s Heart, he was just an old man clinging to a dream that never existed."

Alma exhaled slowly. "And you’re sure it’s gone? All of it?"

I nodded. "I wiped out the remains of Grimoire Heart. Their ships, their bases, their artifacts. No one’s reviving that nightmare. And even if they tried? They’d have nothing left to work with."

She studied me carefully, as if searching for any hesitation in my words. "That’s gonna have consequences," she murmured.

"Yeah," I admitted. "It will."

Alma didn’t look away. "Do you regret it?"

I didn’t hesitate. "No."

Her fingers brushed against mine again, grounding me. "Then why do you look like the weight of the world is still on your shoulders?"

I let out a slow breath, closing my eyes for a moment before turning to face her fully.

And then, because I needed it, I pulled her close, resting my forehead against hers.

Alma didn’t flinch. Didn’t pull away.

She just held me.