Fairy Tail: The Faint Smile in Earthland

Magnolia glowed beneath the full midsummer moon. The guild hall windows flickered with warm light as laughter echoed inside. Though no formal Council decree followed their return from Era, everyone in Fairy Tail sensed the pressure tightening.

Still, for now, the hall is lively.

As always, Teresa stood slightly apart—observing.

At her usual corner table, Max, Reedus, Wakaba, Kinana, and Warren whispered. Macao sat beside her, reviewing recent reports with uncharacteristic seriousness.

"They've increased surveillance," Macao said softly, careful to avoid prying ears. "Our contacts in Crocus report at least three Council agents assigned full-time to monitor Magnolia."

"They fear indirect influence," Teresa replied evenly.

"They fear what they can't control," Macao corrected. "And now they're escalating."

He handed her a folded report sealed with Warren's cipher.

Inside: coded intelligence summaries.

CROCUS — Secondary Tournament Discussions

MAGIC GAMES COMMITTEE — New Special Exhibition Tier Proposed

COUNCIL PROPOSAL: Experimental Category for 'Independent Agents.'

Teresa's silver eyes narrowed slightly. "Grand Magic Games."

"They're creating a side event," Macao explained, voice low. "Tailored for unaffiliated operatives: neutral enforcers, special agents, Hunter-Class prospects. You see where this leads."

"They want me drawn into public evaluation," Teresa whispered.

"They want to force a choice," Macao said grimly. "If you participate as Fairy Tail's agent, our position strengthens. If you refuse, they frame you as a rogue liability. Either way, they control the narrative."

Warren approached, voice steady. "The politics behind these Games are far uglier than the matches."

Two Days Later — Crocus — Grand Magic Games Committee Hall

The official invitation arrived swiftly.

Teresa stood alone inside the Council's temporary tournament office—a polished marble chamber draped with banners from guilds across Fiore.

Councilor Seam presided this time, seated at the high desk beside committee officials. His smile gleamed with practiced sharpness.

"Lady Teresa of Fairy Tail," Seam began with faux courtesy, "you've been selected for personal consideration in our upcoming Exhibition Tier—reserved for distinguished non-standard mages."

Teresa answered calmly. "An arena is not my work."

"Not your usual work," Seam agreed smoothly. "But public confidence thrives on visible strength. You serve Fiore's stability by demonstrating it."

Another committee leader added, "And strengthen Fairy Tail's standing internationally."

Teresa's faint smile flickered. "You manufacture consent."

The committee members shifted, but Seam continued smoothly. "Consider it an act of loyalty. Participation is optional—but strategic."

"I will attend," Teresa said without hesitation.

Seam's eyes gleamed, but she continued before he could speak.

"Not as a test. Not as negotiation. But as a stabilizing act. You will not exploit my performance to manipulate Fairy Tail's position."

Seam's smile froze momentarily as he recalculated. "You make strong declarations for a participant."

"I make none," Teresa replied evenly. "I state facts. I will not permit my presence to become your leverage."

The chamber fell silent.

Finally, Seam nodded, voice smooth again. "As you wish. The invitation stands."

Two Weeks Later — Arena Registration Grounds

The Crocus Coliseum towered above, humming with early preparations. Guild banners snapped in the breeze. Magical screens flashed vibrant promotional reels. The Grand Magic Games promised spectacle.

But the Exhibition Tier remained discreet.

A smaller platform housed registration for the special candidates.

Teresa arrived unarmed, wearing her standard black Claymore tunic, long pale blond hair flowing freely. Even here, she stood apart—a lone figure among mercenaries, bounty hunters, Council enforcers, and rogue guild agents gathered under silent scrutiny.

Whispers followed her.

"That's her."

"Teresa of Fairy Tail."

"The outsider."

"The Hunter-Class candidate."

At the desk, the registration officer's hands trembled slightly as she approached.

"Name?" he asked, though he already knew.

"Teresa."

"Guild affiliation?"

"Fairy Tail."

"Division?"

"Independent."

He recorded it quickly, stamping her registry card with a pulsing magical seal.

"You're assigned to Exhibition Bracket Two," he said, handing over a crystalline badge.

Two Enforcement Division observers lingered behind her—Council agents tasked to monitor the entire event.

"They want to see how you handle visibility," Macao had warned. "Not just how you fight—but how you navigate becoming a symbol."

Teresa's gaze swept across the gathered participants.

Some were familiar: mercenary cells used by black-market circles. Others—defectors from bounty guilds beyond Ishgar. A few bore the cold bearing of Council-forged killers—licensed but unsanctioned, granted temporary public exposure.

All carried one thing in common: ambition.

Recognition. Wealth. Status.

Teresa sought none of these.

Her eyes paused on a tall figure clad in red velvet, face hidden behind a silver mask.

He stared directly at her.

The whispers nearby confirmed it.

"That's the Crimson Broker. One of Ralven's surviving offshoots."

The underground never truly vanished. It adapted.

She recognized the test immediately.

The Council wasn't only evaluating her.

They were baiting the underground. Seeing which factions gravitated toward her shadow. Building webs. Setting traps.

Two Nights Later — Observation Balcony, Crocus Coliseum

Warren's voice whispered through her telepathic link.

"You were correct. The Crimson Broker's entry was Council-sanctioned."

"Partnership bait," Teresa whispered aloud beneath the stars. "They test alliances."

"They hope one of these groups tempts you," Warren added.

"They misunderstand."

"They always do."

Macao's voice entered next. "We'll be watching from Magnolia. You're not alone."

Teresa let her gaze drift over Crocus' glowing skyline.

"No," she whispered. "Not alone. But still apart."

Her faint smile lingered under the moonlight.

The stage was set.

The Council's web tightened.

And yet Teresa remained precisely where she always stood: beyond their grasp.

A blade poised, unswayed.

The unseen contest had begun.