Magus Supremacy - Chapter 216

Chapter 216: It’s your turn!

Chapter 216

At the fringes of Goltas Village, the surviving students huddled just four meters away from Viktor’s Magus Dominion—a colossal sphere of shimmering energy that pulsed with power.

They sat in a loose circle on the bare, cracked ground, their chests rising and falling with ragged breaths. Only a few among them had the composure to meditate and restore their drained mana reserves.

One of them was Grey.

He sat cross-legged, eyes closed in deep concentration, as tendrils of ambient mana were drawn toward him like moths to a flame.

His presence remained still and calm, a sharp contrast to the chaos unraveling within the dominion.

From inside the glowing dome, resounding bangs echoed in rhythmic fury—each thunderous impact a grim testament to Viktor’s relentless assault.

Grotesque zombies and skeletal beasts surged in waves, only to be crushed into the ground with devastating force each time they dared approach him.

“How does that thing even work?” Scarlet asked, her brows furrowed in curiosity and concern as she gazed at the towering barrier of energy.

“I’m not certain about the precise mechanics,” Charlotte replied, her voice steady but hushed, “but the caster gains absolute control over the battlefield once it’s activated.

Within the dominion, they can shape the terrain and manipulate the flow of battle to their advantage.”

“Can we enter it if something goes wrong?” Vorden asked, unease evident in his tone. “Not that I’d be of much use anyway.”

“No,” Dante said grimly. “Unless Viktor allows us in or the dominion shatters on its own, we’re locked out. And with the way he’s fighting… I doubt he’ll let us interrupt and steal this moment of glory.”

His gaze shifted down to where Vanica knelt beside Dave, her palms glowing with gentle light as she poured mana into his mangled foot.

“How much longer?” Selene asked, concern etched into her features.

“A few more minutes, maybe,” Vanica replied through clenched teeth, sweat dripping down her temples as her magic flickered slightly.

“How long does a Magus Dominion last anyway?” Vince inquired.

He sat cross-legged as well, trying to focus on replenishing his mana core, though his eyes kept flicking toward the ongoing clash.

“It depends,” a calm voice answered from behind.

Everyone turned.

Striding toward them with a confident gait, her clothes torn in places and minor cuts on her face and hands, was Sol.

She looked like she had just walked through hell—and was ready to go back in again.

“Sol,” Dante greeted with a nod.

“How’s everyone holding up? Can you still fight?” she asked, scanning their faces with sharp eyes.

“Most of us are trying to recover what we can,” Scarlet responded.

“Good. Because when this goes south—and trust me, it will—I’ll need every ounce of strength you’ve got.

The necromancer we’re facing is a slippery bastard, full of tricks. So be ready.”

“Good luck with that,” a voice rang out from behind them.

They all turned to see Grey rising from his meditation, brushing imaginary dust from his robes. His face was calm—almost bored.

“I only came here to help because I thought I’d gain a few extra points and stars for my rankings,” he said, his tone casual. “But since the glorious third years are here, I don’t see the need to do anything else.”

“What do you mean?” Dante asked, incredulous. “Don’t you realize if we lose here, the academies will fall?”

“And that’s my concern why?” Grey asked, frowning. “Besides, do you seriously think the great Four Academies would crumble under a single necromancer?”

“That’s exactly why we need your help,” Charlotte said, her voice sharp.

Sol’s eyebrow twitched. “Why are second years begging a first year for help?” she asked, folding her arms. “Is he really that special? He looks weak to me.”

The second years flinched.

‘Did… did she just call Grey weak?’ Lyra thought, stunned.

“If you’re not interested in helping,” Sol continued coldly, “then take your pitiful little arse and run away like the scared kitten you are.”

Grey raised an eyebrow. “Scared little cat?” he echoed with a dry chuckle. “Whatever.”

He turned to walk away, speaking over his shoulder. “All I know is that if I ever wanted to, I’d wipe the floor with you—unless, of course, you hid behind that Magus Dominion trick of yours.”

“What did you say?” Sol snapped as glowing runes suddenly lit up beneath Grey’s feet.

“Oh, rune magic?” Grey turned with a mocking smile. “Do you know what it’s weak against?”

With a sudden gust, he propelled himself into the air using wind magic—just in time to dodge the stone spears erupting from the ground where he had stood.

“It’s weak against me,” he said coolly.

“You arrogant first year!” Sol yelled.

“Oh! She barks!” Grey mocked with a smirk.

Sol’s fists clenched as her eyes burned with fury, veins rising on her forehead.

“You’re angry? Good. Channel that rage into fighting that necromancer instead of picking on me.”

“Grey! What are you doing?!” Charlotte called out.

“Hey, peasant! Do you think it’s smart to antagonize a third year like that?” Greg asked, his voice sharp with disdain.

“I guess lowlifes will always act like lowlifes. You really don’t know your place, do you?!” Dave snarled—only to freeze when a long, shimmering wind blade materialized just inches from his face.

“Say that again,” Grey said, floating in the air with eyes like sharpened steel, “and you’ll be dining with your ancestors tonight.”

Dave gulped audibly, unable to move.

Sol, meanwhile, had grown eerily quiet.

‘He’s not scared of me… and he’s casually threatening second years, and they’re just… taking it. Who is he? Why can’t I sense his aura? Is he masking it somehow?’

Grey, on the other hand, thought to himself, ‘I remember Amir warning me not to mess with the third years.

Was this Magus Dominion stuff what he meant? Either way, I’m not looking to fight her—yet.’

The wind blade vanished in a ripple of energy.

“Enough! Please!” Scarlet pleaded, stepping forward. “We need to stop fighting each other! We should be united right now, not tearing ourselves apart!”

Suddenly, a sound like cracking glass filled the air.

They all turned as fissures appeared in the shimmering space surrounding Viktor’s dominion—thin at first, then rapidly spreading like spiderwebs.

And then, all at once, it shattered.

The barrier disintegrated into fragments of glowing light, revealing Viktor lying motionless on the ground, blood trickling from his mouth.

The necromancer stood tall and unscathed, a cruel smirk dancing on his lips.

“It’s your turn now,” Jack said, stepping forward with his own smile of dark anticipation.