"No need. I can handle it myself."

Yet in response to Makarov's 'kind' offer, Jose flatly refused, putting on an air of nonchalance.

Pfft!

Though his act would've been more convincing if blood hadn't trickled from the corner of his mouth as he spoke.

"Are you sure you don't need help? You're bleeding."

A concerned voice piped up—it was the bald Jura Neekis standing behind the old hag master of Lamia Scale.

Pointing at the blood on Jose's lips, Jura wore genuine worry on his face.

Clearly, he wasn't trying to stir trouble but was sincerely concerned—the situation looked serious.

Jose Porla shot the bald man a glare but didn't respond.

Instead, he turned and strode away, his steps unsteady and swaying as if he might collapse at any moment.

It seemed he'd come to the meeting alone.

"Marco, he'll be alright, won't he?"

Watching Jose's stubborn, cold-faced departure, the group actually grew worried.

After all, regardless of everything, Phantom Lord was still a legally registered guild.

If its guild master were to die during a routine meeting...

"He should be fine. His magic is strong." Marco gave a confident answer.

Judging by Jose's current state, he'd at least stabilized the toxins in his body.

With his immense magic power, he could tough it out and survive.

However, while death might be avoided, suffering wasn't.

His body would likely retain some lasting issues and his strength wouldn't grow anytime soon—he'd need to fully purge the toxins first.

For Jose Porla, still in his thirties and in his prime, this stagnation would be a severe punishment.

One could easily imagine Jose Porla would harbor deep hatred for Marco from now on.

Not only had Marco trampled over him to gain fame, but he'd also harmed his body and stunted his power growth.

Under normal circumstances, in a few more years of development, Jose Porla might have reached a level where he could hold his own against Makarov—at least not be completely dominated as he was now.

There was no helping it.

The old man's is just too strong, while Jose's potential was far from fully tapped, he wont even match Makarov in his life time.

"Marco... he actually made Master Jose eat dirt!"

With Jose Porla gone, the venue buzzed with excitement again.

Bacchus chattered away, visibly thrilled.

That was one of the Ten Wizard Saints!

And he'd been bested by someone their own age—it filled Bacchus with both admiration and envy.

How he wished he could be the one in the spotlight right now!

But Bacchus knew he lacked the strength.

If he'd been the one facing Jose, even a casual flick of magic power from the man could've obliterated him.

Some things were just beyond reach.

Watching Marco, surrounded by guild masters and basking in glory, Bacchus eyes shone with nothing but envy and deep respect.

Many of the younger generation who'd come to broaden their horizons shared Bacchus' sentiments.

This trip had truly been eye-opening for them, and their pride had taken a hit.

Every younger mages who'd earned the right to accompany their guild masters here was a prodigy in their own right, a future star in the making.

But before Marco, titles like 'prodigy' or 'future star' meant nothing.

They all paled in comparison.

Genius was merely the threshold to even look Marco in the eye.

Future stars? They could only twinkle in the background.

Once it became clear Jose Porla would likely survive, the guild masters relaxed and began reveling in schadenfreude.

Comments flew thick and fast—everyone seemed to have something snide to say about Jose.

The man really was universally disliked.

Seeing this, Marco found it hard not to facepalm.

Had Jose been at death's door, the guild masters wouldn't have gloated—that'd be bad karma.

But since he'd live? Cue the mockery.

How brutally honest.

Even as they took joy in Jose's misfortune, the guild masters didn't forget to praise Marco.

The two went hand-in-hand—to belittle Jose and to elevate Marco, the other protagonist of this story.

"Kid, what exactly was that rose of yours?" Goldmine asked, curiosity written all over his face.

Bob, Ooba, and the others leaned in, equally intrigued.

If that move could take down Jose Porla or at least incapacitate him, it could undoubtedly do the same to them—they're on par or weaker than Jose's afterall.

"It's a Star Rose I created with my magic," Marco replied with a smile, spinning a complete fabrication.

After all, his magic had no precedent, no documented records.

No one knew its true effects or mechanics—so he could say whatever he wanted.

And right now, faced with Marco's explanation, Goldmine, Bob, Ooba and the other guild masters bought it wholesale.

Marco's magic was truly one-of-a-kind.

"Makarov, you really hit the jackpot!" The guild masters turned their gazes toward Makarov, who was standing nearby with a smug expression, each of them burning with envy.

Having a biological grandson with terrifying, prodigious talent was one thing, but even an adopted grandson turned out to be a magical genius—even more outrageous than the biological one!

How did all these blessings fall into this old man's lap?!

Faced with the guild masters' blatant envy, Makarov couldn't have been more pleased.

This outcome was infinitely more satisfying than slapping Jose Porla a few times himself.

Marco had truly brought him immense pride!

"That bastard Jose won't dare act so arrogantly from now on!" Makarov said cheerfully while taking a swig from a miraculously intact bottle of alcohol he'd somehow dug up.

This incident would undoubtedly crush Jose Porla's arrogance.

Ever since becoming one of the Ten Wizard Saints, Jose had been itching for trouble, constantly looking for ways to provoke Makarov and target Fairy Tail.

Makarov had endured it all—until today!

Finally, he could vent his pent-up frustration!

"But Makarov, don't forget—you and Jose wrecked the venue. The two of you are responsible for repairs," Ooba interjected, cutting into his moment of triumph.

Ooba Babasama made it clear: none of the other attending guilds would foot the bill.

The damages had to be covered by Fairy Tail and Phantom Lord.

"Quit nagging, you old hag! Of course I'll pay! Go ask around—when have I ever skipped out on compensation?" Makarov retorted irritably, downing another gulp.

Ooba was always so fussy and long-winded, acting as if he'd ever refuse to pay.

What kind of man did she take him for?!

Fairy Tail's annual compensation expenses were no small sum!

"You old coot! You're older than I am, yet you call me a hag?! Spin!" Ooba's face flushed with anger at the insult.

With a flick of her fingers, she cast a spell on Makarov, sending the old man spinning rapidly in place—a signature move of Ooba Babasama.

"Hahaha~ Why do you always have to provoke her?" The guild masters burst into laughter as they watched Makarov twirl in circles, still clutching his bottle.

The atmosphere was lighthearted and jovial.

As it turned out, Makarov was a good sport.

Even as he spun uncontrollably, he laughed along heartily.

He was a kind and easygoing man by nature.

As long as no one insulted Fairy Tail or harmed his children's, he didn't mind being the butt of jokes.

The old man had long outgrown caring about his own reputation.

After being showered with enthusiastic praise from the guild masters, Marco quietly slipped away.

While their attention was fixed on Makarov, he squeezed through the crowd and retreated to a corner to check his system.

[Ding! Mission "Attack of the Wizard Saint" completed!]

Progress: Defeat Jose Porla (Completed)

[Claim mission rewards?]

The pop-up from the [Saint System] had appeared earlier, but Marco had ignored it until now.

Finally squeezing his way outside, he couldn't contain his excitement any longer and opened the system.

'I actually managed to exploit the bug successfully!'

Seeing the 'Completed' notification, Marco felt relieved.

Before everything was truly settled, he hadn't been entirely confident it would work.

Fortunately, the system's judgment didn't seem too strict—following Makarov had indeed allowed him to pull it off.

'But I contributed too, surely I deserve a few points out of that combined eighty-one.'

Marco thought to himself, then without hesitation, he chose to claim the mission reward, eagerly awaiting his first Gold Saint skill.

But then it occurred to him—it might not exactly be his first, as "Diamond Dust Fist" would surely protest!

"Bzzzt!"

As Marco confirmed his selection, the system interface flickered.

The acquisition of a Gold Saint skill was distinctly different from that of Bronze or Silver—the system even added a dazzling special effect!

After a blinding flash of golden light, an ornate golden gate swung open, revealing a constellation symbol.

Two massive pincers emerged first, followed by a long, curved stinger tail—it was a scorpion, the symbol of the Scorpio!

[Congratulations! Skill "Scarlet Needle" has been unlocked!]

The golden symbol faded as a system pop-up appeared, confirming the successful unlock of the deadly sting from the scorpion's tail.

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Scarlet Needle (スカーレットニードル, sukāreto nīdoru): The user launches a crimson needle to 14 parts of the body either direct or indirectly to poison opponents, make them bleed, and scream in pain, losing their 5 senses in the process.

The attack is impossible to divert or defend against.

Each needle represents one of the stars of the Scorpius constellation.

The user can shoot however many needles he wants at the same time up to 14 and even in multiple targets.

The holes of the needles draw a miniature of the Scorpius constellation on the body of the victim.

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