Craze: Naruto won the vote. Arthur was not going to speed run it. He would conquer the world with culture and technology. He came from America No Sato. Potential Mate: Tsunade, Konan, Mikoto, Kushina, Mei, Kaguya, Kurenai, Yukito, Pakura.
....
Inside the heavily guarded chambers of the Magic Council, the supreme councilors were gathered.
The air was thick with the scent of old parchment and political tension.
Jellal Fernandes, operating under the guise of the cunning councilor Siegrain, slowly swirled the wine in his glass, his expression one of disdain as he listened to his peers.
"What a foolish bunch of people…"
He mused internally.
He didn't know the full extent of the new mages' power, but their dossier—detailing the quick, conceptual defeat of Erigor and the unmaking of the Wall of Silence—screamed of overwhelming strength.
To actively provoke them purely out of bureaucratic pride and fear was an act of political suicide.
Ultear Milkovich, disguised as the councilor Oración, sat nearby, her composure momentarily ruffled.
She had been instrumental in guiding the Council toward the arrest order—a calculated move to test the outsiders' power—but even she thought their execution was sloppy.
Councilor Yajima, the voice of restraint, was notably absent, detained by a conveniently timed backache.
The active, easily manipulated councilors were therefore reduced to Jellal, Ultear, Gran, and Org.
As they were discussing the exact phrasing of the order to peck the order and assert their authority over the powerful newcomers, the conversation was violently derailed.
A massive, terrifying spike of magical pressure—a conceptual force that felt like the world itself was being squeezed—shot out, originating from the direction of Magnolia Town.
It was not a magical attack they recognized; it was a pure, primordial wave of Authority.
"W—What is this power…"
Ultear managed to gasp, her eyes wide.
She desperately focused her own immense magical reserves to resist the crushing force, but she felt like a pebble against a tidal wave.
Jellal suffered the same conceptual assault; his powerful magic was entirely irrelevant against the sheer weight of this absolute pressure.
Gran and Org, far weaker, instinctively grabbed the table with all their might, their faces pale and streaming with sweat.
Then, just as suddenly as it arrived, the massive pressure abruptly vanished, sparing them all the embarrassment of collapsing into panicked heaps.
Gran stood up, shaking slightly, and immediately shouted for his assistant.
"Go and check where this pressure is coming from! Now!"
The assistant returned minutes later, trembling as he delivered the report.
The center of the magical spike, which resembled a magical natural disaster rather than a human mage's work, was located precisely where they had sent the envoy:
The S-class mage Arthur Leywin Stark's apartment in Magnolia Town.
"Don't tell me…"
Gran began, the pieces clicking into a terrifying conclusion.
"That's right, I will not tell you anything."
The smooth, cold voice came from a chair that had been empty moments before.
Everyone's eyes snapped toward it.
Seated there, completely relaxed, was a young man with an aura that was terrifyingly calm after the chaotic display.
In his lap, a small, black, puffball of a creature—Botamon—was snuggled comfortably, cooing softly.
It was, of course, Arthur.
He had used his control over space and time and his Reality Blending to simply redefine the concept of their secure council chamber as a public space, instantly transporting himself right into the heart of their meeting.
He was still wearing the anger of the previous minutes like a second skin.
He had literally fired a frog (the envoy) with a conceptual force, and now he was here for the source of the problem.
"Who are you…"
Gran stammered, pointing a shaky finger.
Arthur fixed the four councilors with a stare that held the conceptual weight of eons.
"You sent someone rude to greet me and still dare to ask who I am? That kind of stupidity is why I had to interrupt your little planning session."