Chapter 40: Chapter 40: The Hand Behind the Curtain
The Magic Council chamber sat in solemn silence—an amphitheater of power, aged stone echoing with every breath and shifting robe. Twelve Council members loomed in an arc of elevated seats, their eyes fixed on the crystalline projection hovering in the center of the room.
The image spun slowly: the **Tower of Heaven**, now fully rebuilt and pulsing faintly with magical energy, surrounded by shimmering ley lines. It looked more like a monument than a prison.
"The R-System has been reactivated," Councilor Michello rasped, fingers trembling as he leaned forward. "This is not a drill. We have confirmation—unauthorized magic activity of catastrophic scale."
A murmur rose among the Council. In the shadows behind the assembled authority, **Ultear Milkovich** stood, her arms loosely folded, wearing the white and gold uniform of a Magic Council observer. Her lips curled subtly in a smile—controlled, calculating.
She had orchestrated this perfectly.
"I warned you," said a smooth, confident voice from among the Council seats. **Seigrain**—the charismatic young Wizard Saint, cloaked in blue—stood now, his hands behind his back. "The R-System was outlawed for a reason. If it's completed, the revival of Zeref could end all life on the continent."
"Who would dare reactivate it?" Org, the grizzled council veteran, barked. "Who would be mad enough?"
Seigrain lowered his head, letting the shadow cross his face.
"Someone dangerous. Someone determined. I suggest we eliminate the Tower before that possibility becomes reality."
Ultear's eyes gleamed as she took a graceful step forward. "A preemptive strike… would be within our jurisdiction. Especially if it falls under Class S Forbidden Threat."
Her voice slid through the air like a knife wrapped in silk.
Councilor Yajima, the oldest and wisest among them, frowned deeply. "You speak of **Etherion**."
The air in the chamber turned heavy. Even the magic-laced torches dimmed slightly as if recoiling from the word.
Seigrain nodded solemnly. "Etherion exists for this purpose. The Tower of Heaven stands in an isolated sea zone. A direct hit would cause minimal civilian damage. It would neutralize the threat before Zeref could be revived."
"But to use Etherion…" Michello said, voice hollow. "The magical cost is tremendous. Lives would be—"
Ultear cut in gently, masking venom with velvet. "Would you rather risk Zeref walking among us again? The death toll if he is resurrected will make Etherion's power look like a candle to a wildfire."
Seigrain turned slowly, his gaze piercing as he played his role to perfection. "This isn't a decision to take lightly. But I motion for a vote: shall we authorize Etherion to eliminate the Tower of Heaven and the threat within?"
Yajima stood, slowly. His voice was weary. "We do not yet know who resides within that Tower. Are we prepared to execute innocents for the sake of fear?"
"Innocents?" Ultear smiled, head tilted slightly. "Or pawns who've allowed themselves to be manipulated into serving evil?"
Yajima stared at her, sensing something just beneath her calm exterior—something cold and ancient.
But it was Seigrain who sealed the moment.
"There's no time. Every moment we hesitate brings the revival of Zeref closer. I call for the vote."
One by one, hands began to rise.
Michello.
Org.
Three.
Five.
Seven.
Yajima kept his hand down.
Ultear didn't vote—she wasn't a formal member. She didn't need to. Her influence had already rippled across the room like poison in wine.
Seigrain gave the final nod. "Motion passed."
"The Etherion blast," Councilor Belno said, "will be ready for launch in twenty-four hours. Final target calibration to be done in the next six."
Ultear's eyes narrowed ever so slightly. **Perfect.** That would give Jellal time. Enough to complete the ritual. Or enough for destruction to fall just as Zeref was reborn.
Either outcome served her plan.
As the Council dispersed, she moved quietly behind the scenes, down the silent corridors of the Council tower. No one questioned her presence. She wore the skin of legitimacy flawlessly.
Once she reached her private quarters, she stepped inside and sealed the door with a flick of her fingers. The air shimmered, and a magical circle pulsed.
From the shadows emerged a flicker of energy—**Jellal's real form**—seated in an ancient stone chamber on the other end of the projection.
"You've done well," he said with a faint smirk. "The Etherion vote passed."
Ultear bowed slightly, eyes gleaming.
"They think they'll destroy you. But in truth, they'll give you exactly what you need."
Jellal's smirk twisted into something darker.
"Yes. Let the world believe in its control. Etherion will not be my execution… it will be my catalyst."
The projection flickered, then vanished.
Ultear stood alone, the corners of her mouth twitching with suppressed satisfaction.
The Council believed they were in control.
Jellal believed he was in control.
But Ultear… she had no interest in either. She had her own goal, one rooted far deeper than Zeref or Jellal or the Tower of Heaven.
And she had waited a long, long time.
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