The grand hall of the palace of Vistarion loomed with imposing grandeur, its towering columns and intricate designs reflecting the power gathered within. At the heart of this majesty, the Spriggan 12 sat in their designated places, their eyes turning toward you as you entered. A newcomer to their ranks, yet already held in the highest regard by none other than Emperor Spriggan himself. The weight of their gazes was immense—powerhouses like Dimaria Yesta, August, Brandish, and Irene Belserion all silently assesed the new force among them... you.

— It’s good to see you here. Emperor Spriggan, Zeref, said softly, though his voice carried the authority of a ruler. — You’ve proven yourself worthy of this place.

Around the table, the Spriggan 12 were a mix of curiosity, silent respect, and, from some, skepticism. A moment of tension passed as Dimaria’s sharp gaze locked onto you, a slight smirk tugging at her lips.

— Let’s see if they can keep up. Dimaria muttered under her breath, her arrogant and cynical attitude showing even to you.

— Power is always an asset in war. You’ll need to be sharper than any sword if you're going to stand with us. Suddenly Irene spoke, elegantly and composed, surprisingly more welcoming than Dimaria.

Taking a seat among them, the energy in the large, open meeting room was beyond palpable. Each member embodied devastation; power that could level nations, yet you belonged here as well. Zeref, satisfied with your composure, continued the meeting. Plans for the invasion of Ishgar were laid out in precise detail.

August, the sage of the Spriggan 12, outlined strategies and spoke of the delicate balance of magical forces. Meanwhile, Irene subtly appraised you, her keen mind calculating your potential. Nevertheless, all of the Spriggan 12 all held varying thoughts.

— I like this one. Ajeel suddenly interjected, glancing over to you as he reclined in his chair. — Let’s see if they’ve got the guts to survive when the real battle comes.