After chatting with the innkeeper a while longer and realizing no more useful information could be squeezed out, Hope and Erza each turned in for some rest.
That afternoon, a well-rested Old Book led them to meet the Archaeological Team Members.
In the inn's small dining room, the History Guild's archaeologists were eating and murmuring about something. Nearly all wore spectacles and refined clothes, looking utterly out of place in the gloomy atmosphere of Twilight Town.
Seeing the two Mages Old Book had brought, the team leader—a middle-aged scholar named Derrick—hurried over.
"Excellent! I was afraid that stubborn Old Book would hire Blue Pegasus."
After learning Erza's identity, Derrick grew excited. Though the other visitor looked more like a sightseer with a potted sunflower in his arms… as long as they could fight, nothing else mattered.
Old Book sat down at another table and shot Derrick a sour look. "Must you always take a jab at me? If Blue Pegasus had been available, I'd never have turned to Fairy Tail."
Well, well—the old man was still being stubborn.
Hope definitely preferred the way Old Book had looked at him earlier—with reverence.
Derrick disagreed with Old Book's opinion. "The forest is far trickier than we expected. Unless Blue Pegasus sends that 'Ichiya', their people would just be pummeled by that monster."
"Fairy Tail, on the other hand, has four S-Class Mages and plenty of other capable fighters."
At those words, Old Book's face changed; he hadn't joined the archaeological expedition earlier and had no idea what sort of monster they'd met in the ruins.
Hope glanced at Erza and asked quietly, "Blue Pegasus's Ichiya? Is he strong?"
Erza nodded, her expression turning serious. "Ichiya is Blue Pegasus's strongest Mage. He's very powerful—even I'd have trouble against him."
So even Erza found him a tough opponent.
Hope frowned slightly. If Derrick said only Ichiya could help, the monster in the ruins must be at least S-Class… Yet how had the Archaeological Team Members escaped an S-Class beast without a single injury?
In answer to Hope's question, Derrick gave a wry smile. "That monster had no intention of harming us; it only wanted to drive us away."
Hope understood—guardian beasts in ruins were nothing unusual.
Erza calmly questioned several Archaeological Team Members. "Besides the monster that blocked you, did you encounter any other dangers in the forest?"
"Do ghosts count?"
A young scholar said, "They hide in the forest by day and become active at night, making disturbing noises throughout the woods and the town."
His words matched what the innkeeper had told them.
Erza thought for a moment, then relayed the innkeeper's request to Old Book.
When they heard Hope and Erza intended to confront the ghosts, Old Book, Derrick, and the archaeologists all grew interested.
Archaeology could wait—the ruins weren't going anywhere.
But ghost-hunting was a rare spectacle; missing it would be a shame.
Erza folded her arms, listened to the scholars' chatter, and decided, "In that case, we won't enter the forest tonight. We'll stay in town and experience these 'visiting' ghosts firsthand, to see what they want."
"Hope, what do you think?"
I'll watch sitting down… Hope nearly quipped, but cracking a joke now would earn him an elbow from Erza.
Hope gently brushed the sunflower's petals and gave an eager smile. "I've heard some ghosts retain their will and can communicate."
"Tonight we can look for such a ghost, try to talk, and find out why their obsession lingers."
…Night fell quickly, and Twilight Town truly lived up to its name, frozen in a hazy, eerie crimson dusk.
The streets were deserted; every door and window was shut, even the lamplight seeming to dim.
Hope and Erza stood on the inn's second-floor balcony, waiting quietly.
Time ticked by; when the clock struck Midnight, the temperature plunged and the air filled with a damp, musty chill.
The ghosts had arrived.
First came faint sobs from afar, growing nearer and clearer.
Then vague, translucent human shapes appeared over the streets, drifting aimlessly, muttering nonsense and occasional shrill wails.
As the innkeeper and archaeologists had said, the ghosts seemed harmless, but their constant mental harassment and eerie aura could drive anyone mad.
"I don't sense strong malice, but they seem to be pleading for something," Erza murmured, frowning.
Hope glanced at her teasingly. "Even learned scholars like Old Book and Derrick can't understand those mindless murmurs—who knew you could, Erza."
His banter made Erza doubt herself; she'd barely read any history books. Better to find a conscious ghost quickly.
The two leapt from the balcony and split up, merging into the procession of spirits.
Soon, Hope ran into a lucid ghost: a warrior in armor gripping a spear.
Unfortunately, neither could understand the other's language; gestures proved useless.
As Hope fretted, Erza arrived at his call. "Lucky you—did that ghost tell you anything?"
Hope pointed to the warrior ghost behind him and spread his hands helplessly. "It wants to tell me, but I can't understand a word."
"I see." Erza folded her arms, wondering whether to fetch a scholar from the inn to translate.
Turning, Hope noticed the warrior ghost staring fixedly at Erza.
Puzzled, Hope watched the ghost step around him—and, to his shock, drop to its knees before Erza.
Faint, broken words came from the ghost, its face agitated.
Hope couldn't understand a syllable.
But to Erza, the ghost's meaning was crystal-clear.
"your majesty the queen, you have finally returned!"
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