Chapter 71 - Silent Fault Lines

Date: July X786 (Mid-Month)

Location: Crocus — Magic Council Citadel

Morning light bathed the marble halls of the Magic Council Citadel in pale brilliance. Yet inside, shadows thickened.

Councilor Bran slammed his palm on the conference table, the echo sharp enough to make even the rune-bound sconces tremble.

"This… Teresa has gone too far. She breached Vault wards, bypassed every safeguard we ever imagined. No one else could do that."

Councilor Ethne sat at the head, silent and unmoved, her pale eyes fixed on nothing — or perhaps on everything.

Beside her, Councilor Mana spoke softly. "It was Voldane who forced the Vault open. Teresa acted to restore equilibrium, not to defy us."

Bran barked, "We can't keep relying on her! She operates without oversight, without law!"

Warrod leaned forward, voice deep as an old root. "She prevented a cataclysm. The Vault still hums with draconic residue far beyond Council containment. Without her, that power would be unbound."

Bran scoffed, gaze sharp. "So we cower behind her blade? Hide our failures under her shadow?"

Across the table, Org tapped a slow rhythm against his chair. His voice, when it came, was measured. "Bran, whether you like it or not, we need her on our side."

Bran's eyes burned. "On whose side is she really?"

In the corridors outside, heartbeat signs flickered across silent lacrima screens. Elder Councilors shuffled past in pairs, exchanging thin-lipped murmurs and darting glances.

At the far end of the hall, a Rune Knight approached Org quietly. "Councilor, you're requested in the Tactical Agricultural Annex. Strange arcane signatures, sir."

Org's gaze flicked back to the chamber where Bran's voice still rang. "Tell them I'm unavailable."

The knight hesitated. "Sir… Councilor Fitzroy is waiting."

Councilor Fitzroy rose from a low treaty table as Org and Warrod approached. He bowed faintly. "Councilor Org."

They walked together past a crystal-field portal, its display showing warped crops and withering orchards.

"These aren't natural," Fitzroy said. "Residual Vault echo, or something else? Dark guild sabotage?"

Org examined the shimmering patterns. "Tainted, yes. Strong Vault echo. But no immediate threat — unless awakened."

Fitzroy's lips thinned. "Act now, and we risk pushing her further out. Wait too long, Voldane will consolidate."

Bran's voice turned hoarse. "She's beyond us. She ignores summons. She feels nothing."

Warrod rose, hands spread on the table. "Unlike us."

He paused, gaze sweeping the room.

"We are out of balance. We chase dark guilds in shadows, but the moment we trespass into Vault echoes… we become prey."

Bran slumped into his chair. "Then you'd rather hide?"

Warrod shook his head. "No. We prepare."

Location: Council War Room

Org issued quiet orders to the Rune Knight captains. Strengthen barrier lines around Vault-adjacent provinces. Officially "preventative," but in truth, they were defensive walls against whatever might come next.

Bran objected. "Those wards drain resources we can't spare."

Warrod answered evenly. "Resources the people own. We'll divert from public safety budgets, not military."

Silence tightened like a drawn bowstring.

Ethne and Warrod conferred alone. Ethne tapped the table's edge slowly. "She's choosing her own battlegrounds. Is she still ours?"

Warrod set a single coin on the map. "If we don't shape what we create, someone else will."

He traced Voldane's last movement across western territories. "He struck another ley site yesterday."

Ethne didn't look up. "Then we need a message."

Warrod's reply was simple. "A public call."

Councilor Mana stepped onto the central dais. Representatives from every major guild stood below, except one.

"In light of recent threats," she declared, "the Council authorizes immediate deployment of reinforced defense wards across Ky'run-adjacent regions. All registered guilds with sanctioned emergency credentials will assist the Rune Knights directly."

Gasps rippled across the hall.

Sabertooth. Blue Pegasus. Raven Tail. All present.

But not Fairy Tail.

Bran murmured, "All registered guilds," eyes closed.

The announcement went public.

Fitzroy glared at Org and Warrod. "You're rallying guilds to guard against our own failures. You're asking them to fight not only Voldane… but perhaps her."

Ethne's voice stayed cold. "Better them than us. Trust is earned here — not given by title."

Location: Crocus Streets

Whispers bled through alleyways and markets.

"They're sending guilds after dark guild cells... but Fairy Tail isn't listed."

"Teresa? She's not Council anymore. She's something else now."

Romeo stood at Magnolia's outer gate, dusk light pooling on his shoulders. Macao stood beside him, silent.

Romeo's voice shook. "Is Teresa in trouble?"

Macao didn't turn. "She's doing her job."

Romeo's eyes dropped. "But what if she refuses?"

Location: Council Balcony, Dusk

Org and Warrod stood side by side, the city's lights flickering below them.

Org spoke first. "What if she does say no?"

Warrod didn't look away. "Then we pray she isn't the only blade sharp enough to meet what's coming."

Their reflections shimmered faintly in the glass.

No moon rose.

Silence ruled the sky.