Magus Supremacy - Chapter 219

Chapter 219: I have allies!
Chapter 219

“Ready?” Grey asked, his voice carrying a calm ferocity. Everyone around him nodded with silent resolve. “Then let’s join the fray.”

A hundred razor-sharp wind blades shimmered into existence above Grey, slicing through the air like ghostly sabers.

Beside him, Lyra—riding atop her wind dragon—summoned two hundred more, the sky above darkening with swirling blades of death. The others crouched, primed to pounce.

“Destroy,” Jack commanded coldly.

“Obliterate them,” Grey added with a smirk, his eyes gleaming.

Then chaos erupted.

A storm of spells rained from the sky, crashing into the ranks of the undead.

Dante’s fifty earth spears launched upward, and in a blinding instant, multiple explosions shattered the battlefield, dirt and debris flying in all directions.

An ogre roared, swinging its massive sword and deflecting an earth spear with brute force—only for a wind blade to whistle through the air and cleave its head clean off.

Nearby, fire magic engulfed another ogre, turning the snarling beast into a charred husk.

Greg fired ten lightning arrows that zipped through the air, crackling with energy. They tore limbs off zombies and sent skeleton soldiers flying like broken toys.

Jay and Charlotte stood side by side, their eyes glowing with determination as they launched wave after wave of water orbs that pummeled the oncoming undead.

The speed of their attacks kept the monsters at bay—if only barely.

Growing tired of the volley approach, Jay clenched his fists. “Let’s step it up.” A dozen water slashes erupted from his hands, slicing cleanly through several zombies—only for something eerie to occur.

The zombies began to group together, eerily synchronized, like puppets on a single string.

In unison, they lifted their decaying arms and conjured wind blades—dozens from each monster—forming a deadly barrage of nearly two hundred blades aimed straight at the students.

“Arthur!” Grey yelled.

“On it!” Arthur responded instantly. He slammed his hands together, and a transparent, shimmering bubble surrounded the group just in time.

The wind blades slammed into it with explosive force, causing a deafening, reverberating hum. Cracks spidered across the surface as Arthur coughed out a speck of blood.

“Let it down!” Dante shouted.

The barrier dropped, and the remaining wind blades surged forward—only to meet a massive earth pillar that Dante raised with a powerful stomp.

The stone smashed through the incoming blades, neutralizing the threat.

“Dave!” Grey barked.

“For the record,” Dave snarled, stepping forward, “I’m only helping to pay that necromancer back for slicing my foot. Don’t get cocky!”

A massive crescent-shaped slab of gleaming metal burst forth from his hands, spinning violently as it flew into the undead horde.

It cleaved through at least a hundred monsters, leaving only torn limbs and twitching corpses in its wake.

“Sol!” Grey called.

Sol’s eyes glowed as she summoned glowing runes that absorbed the crescent’s energy, condensed it, and launched it back at twice the speed and power.

The reinforced attack ripped through another hundred undead like butter.

The battlefield was now soaked in smoke, scorched earth, and the acrid scent of death.

Despite the carnage, around eight hundred undead remained, steadily closing in.

The students instinctively took a step back—everyone except Grey, who stood his ground like a defiant beacon.

“Lyra, keep the wind blades coming!” Grey ordered.

“But you’re right in their path!” she protested.

“Just do it!” he snapped.

“Fine!”

More wind blades rained down from above, slicing through zombies, limbs flailing and heads rolling.

The storm of magic continued, but the ogres—larger and more durable—batted away spells and withstood most assaults. Only a few had fallen so far. The rest were almost upon him.

Grey clenched his fists. “My turn to go offensive.” His voice dropped low, steady.

“Lightning Creation Magic—Lightning Armor!”

Crackling light enveloped him, electricity humming through the air with sizzling intensity.

His legs were coated in gleaming lightning boots that sparked with each twitch, and instead of gauntlets, a pair of razor-edged lightning daggers crackled to life in his hands.

“Keep the spells coming! Don’t worry about hitting me!” he shouted.

Then came the boom.

With a thunderous clap that rippled through the air, Grey vanished in a flash of light. He blitzed into the undead ranks, a streak of lightning tearing across the battlefield.

His daggers crossed in an X, he tore through the first ogre, stabbing it in the skull and unleashing a surge of electricity that fried its brain before the body even hit the dirt.

He blurred again—another ogre fell.

He was a phantom, a storm with a human form. His lightning daggers weaved and slashed with precision and fury, dancing through the battlefield like death incarnate.

Not even friendly fire slowed him—he evaded a wind blade with a sharp sidestep, letting it decapitate a zombie behind him.

He skidded across the earth as a cluster of skeletons were impaled by Dante’s earth spikes.

Without pause, Grey launched himself again, slicing through ogres and zombies like paper, leaving only sparks, blood, and ash in his wake.

All of this happened in the span of seconds.

The tide began to shift. Undead numbers dropped rapidly with Grey at the front.

His speed was unreal—neither allies nor enemies could keep up. Not even Jack could track his movements.

Then Grey launched himself high into the air. A massive fireball flew past him and crashed into a pack of zombies, incinerating them. An ogre lunged at him with a wide swing—but Grey was faster.

He landed, spun, and hurled a lightning dagger with all his might. The weapon screamed through the air, breaking the sound barrier before slamming into the ogre’s skull, dropping the beast instantly.

Grey appeared among his allies again, calm, back turned to the remaining undead.

“No need to waste your mana,” he said, casually brushing dust from his shoulder.

Greg frowned, crackling lightning in his hands. “What are you talking about? There’re still a hundred undead left!”

“Are there?” Grey asked, smirking.

A thunderous explosion erupted behind him, followed by the simultaneous collapse of all remaining undead. They fell like dominoes, lifeless, unmoving.

Everyone stared in stunned silence.

Jack clenched his fists, anger bubbling beneath his calm.

Grey’s smirk widened. “So, Jack… what now? Your mana’s spent. Your undead army’s gone. What can you possibly do?”

Jack lowered his head, shoulders shaking.

Then he laughed.

Lifting a single finger, he said, “I still have allies.”

Shadows rippled at his feet. From the dark pool, a man clad in a black robe emerged, an eye patch covering his right eye.

“Remember me?” the man asked with a twisted grin.

Grey’s eyes widened. “You?!”