Not long after Ryoma's figure vanished, several figures arrived at the ruined battlefield.
They wore uniform attire, their expressions solemn, and they exuded an aura stronger than that of ordinary mages.
Leading them was a sharp-eyed man wearing glasses. He was Lahar, captain of the Magic Council's Custody Enforcement Unit.
"Is this the epicenter of the magic conflict?"
He surveyed his surroundings, his brows furrowing tightly, mainly because the scene before him was too bizarre.
Most of the architectural debris was covered in chilling ice, emanating a bone-piercing cold, while another part looked as if it had suffered the ravages of time.
A team member cautiously reached out and gently touched a stone pillar nearby, which was largely weathered.
Crash...
The seemingly intact stone pillar silently crumbled into a pile of fine dust beneath his fingertips, scattering with the wind.
"This... this is..."
The team member was startled, abruptly retracting his hand, his face filled with terror.
What kind of magic was this, that could weather solid rock to this extent in such a short time?
Lahar said nothing, his gaze drawn to a figure in the center of the ruins. It was a person prostrate on the ground, motionless, in a forward-leaning posture.
His hair and beard were white and dry like straw, his skin clung tightly to his bones, covered in wrinkles as deep as ravines. There were no obvious fatal injuries on his body, as if he had suddenly died of old age.
"Captain, look at his clothes." A team member followed, his voice tinged with uncertainty.
"This looks like... the attire of the Phantom Lord's guild master."
Lahar knelt down and gently turned the corpse over. When he saw the extremely aged face, even his composed eyes constricted sharply.
"There's no mistake." His voice became somewhat hoarse. "It's Jose Porla."
"What?!"
"Phantom Lord's guild master?!"
The surrounding team members instantly erupted, their faces filled with disbelief.
"He... he's one of the Ten Wizard Saints."
"How could he die here? And in such a tragic state."
The demise of a Wizard Saint was definitely an event capable of shaking the entire Kingdom of Fiore.
No, it was a cataclysmic event that would shake the entire Ishgar continent.
An invisible chill rose from the hearts of several team members, making their gazes toward the ruins carry a hint of fear.
To kill a Wizard Saint in such a short time and in such a bizarre manner...
What kind of terrifying existence was the opponent?
"Everyone calm down!"
Lahar low-growled, forcefully suppressing the agitation in their hearts.
"Immediately seal the area! Activate the magic tool to trace the residual magic and reconstruct the battle!"
"Yes!"
A team member immediately took out a spherical instrument from the magic tool he carried.
He injected magic power into it, and the instrument hummed, emitting a faint light, beginning to scan the residual magic traces in the surrounding space.
Sizzle... Bang!
However, the instrument had barely operated for three seconds before it suddenly exploded with a loud bang, emitting plumes of black smoke.
"Reporting, Captain! The instrument is malfunctioning!" The team member hurriedly shouted.
"The residual magic on site is too chaotic! No, not chaotic! It... it's something directly interfering with the instrument's operation."
Lahar's face was terrifyingly grim. He waved the team member away, then personally knelt on one knee, removed his glove, and gently pressed his fingers to the ground.
He slowly closed his eyes, sensing carefully.
Coldness.
Stillness.
And... a peculiar and vast magical fluctuation. The lingering power of that force made even him, an elite of the Magic Council, feel a tremor in his heart.
He could sense two distinct residual powers.
One was Jose's dark, evil dark magic, but it was now as faint as a flickering candle in the wind.
The other had ice but was mixed with other things beyond his scope of knowledge.
After a long while, Lahar slowly opened his eyes and took out a communication lacrima.
"This is Lahar, Custody Enforcement Unit."
His voice was transmitted back to the Magic Council headquarters through the magic crystal.
"Target location... the former Phantom Lord branch, confirmed destroyed."
A questioning voice came from the other end of the communicator.
Lahar took a deep breath and reported in an unprecedentedly grave tone, "Jose Porla... confirmed dead."
"Residual magic on site... unresolvable. Repeat, unresolvable."
"The identity of the culprit... unknown. But his power level is immeasurable."
...
At the same time, above another town in Fiore.
Ryoma's figure quietly appeared in the blooming and fading of an ice flower. Below him was another branch stronghold of Phantom Lord.
He did not hesitate, nor did he waste any extra words, directly raising his hand to cast magic.
Accompanying his movements, the temperature of the entire town seemed to drop by several degrees, and countless tiny ice crystal condensed in the air.
Ice Blossom Storm!
The next moment, a small blizzard appeared out of thin air, enveloping the Phantom Lord branch below.
Within the violent ice and snow storm, countless sharp ice blades furiously cut at the building.
Rumble—
Amidst the harsh cracking sounds, the entire guild building was brutally torn apart, turning into a sky full of debris and ice shards.
The mages in the branch were terrified by this sudden catastrophe, scrambling out of the ruins, covered in frost but not fatally injured.
They looked up in horror but only saw a dazzling ice flower slowly dissipating in the sky.
Ryoma's figure was long gone.
In the time that followed, he moved like a ghost, teleporting across Fiore, eradicating one Phantom Lord branch after another.
His methods had become much gentler compared to the beginning, he no longer aimed to kill. He simply wiped out all of Phantom Lord's strongholds established in this country, one by one, from the map.
However, when he arrived at the location of Phantom Lord's headquarters, he couldn't help but be stunned.
Before him was only a massive deep pit and several traces extending into the distance.
The entire guild headquarters had vanished.
Ryoma raised an eyebrow slightly, then remembered.
Phantom Lord's headquarters itself was a huge mobile fortress.
He murmured to himself, "Did they escape?"
Did they receive some news that made them flee in advance?
Ryoma's perception spread out but he found no trace.
Fiore was incredibly vast. Trying to find a mobile target that was deliberately hiding was like searching for a needle in a haystack.
"Those so-called Element 4 should still be on it." He rubbed his chin, feeling a touch of regret.
He had originally intended to deal with those guys as well while he was at it.
But it didn't matter. The main culprit was gone, the rest were just minor nuisances.
As long as the name Phantom Lord existed, he would always have a chance to find them.
It was time to go back.
Ryoma turned around, his gaze fixed on the distant Magnolia.
He wondered what kind of wonderful expression Makarov would have when he saw the gift he had left behind.
A barely noticeable curve appeared at the corner of Ryoma's lips, and an ice flower quietly bloomed beneath his feet.