Magus Supremacy - Chapter 643
Chapter 643: Brewing Storm!
Chapter 643
“So tell us, who should get the slots, Alba?” Judy asked quietly, her shy voice carrying through the room as every gaze shifted to the clan leader.
‘Damn it. How do I choose without making it seem like I’m being biased?’ Alba wondered as she rubbed her forehead, her fingers pressing into her skin while everyone waited, watching her every move.
‘Right now, I have to remove myself from the selection. I can get my own weapon later. I’m already strong enough for now, so the slots should go to those who will gain the most from it.’
Grey sat back and studied the tension building around the table, his eyes drifting from face to face.
‘Funny thing is, even I don’t know how strong a modified weapon will be. It could turn out amazing or complete garbage. It all comes down to luck.
And speaking of weapons… Thalos said my sword was forged by his master, yet I still don’t know everything it can do. What exactly is hidden inside it? What ability does it have besides being incredibly durable?’
He tapped the floor lightly with his boot as another thought flashed into his mind.
‘That sword hasn’t chipped once since I got it. Even during the fight with that demon, despite the force it took, not a single crack. Is that it? Is its ability simply indestructibility? Tch. I won’t know until I test it properly.’
“I’ve decided who gets the slots,” Alba finally said.
Her voice broke the long silence, and instantly every ear opened and every stare locked onto her.
“Just like Ash mentioned earlier, the slots should go to those whose usefulness in the clan is the highest at the moment.
Not necessarily the strongest. Just those who contribute the most to our missions and battles. I’ve made my choice and I hope you will all respect it.”
‘Please just finish this already. I’m exhausted.’ Grey yawned inwardly.
“First choice is, obviously, Killian,” Alba announced.
All eyes shifted to the warrior who straightened his back slightly.
“Not only is he strong, but when it comes to pure offense, he stands at the top. We need to boost that strength. I won’t always be around to cover for everyone, so powering him up increases our chances of survival.”
“Alright, that makes sense,” Lance nodded. “And the second slot?”
“The second slot goes to Brook,” Alba replied calmly.
Everyone paused.
“Brook? Why Brook?!” Lilly asked, her brows tightening in confusion.
“Brook is our defense. Our shield. The one who stands in front of every deadly attack,”
Alba explained while looking around the table before adding:
“For years, he has protected us from blows that would have shattered our bones or ended our lives. Without him, many of us wouldn’t even be here.
A proper formation needs strong defense just as much as offense. If the shield breaks, everything collapses.”
The room grew quiet as her words settled.
“So strengthening both our frontline offense and frontline defense is the smartest move right now,” Alba continued.
“Besides, the Supreme Magus said he’ll keep crafting weapons for us. Which means more chances will come. More slots. More rotations. When he returns, we can give the next slots to others. So I hope you can all accept this decision.”
“Well, I got a slot, so obviously I’m fine,” Killian said with a wide grin stretching across his face.
“I don’t mind. I didn’t urgently need it anyway,” Ash added with a light shrug.
“Makes sense to me, so whatever,” Lance sighed, sounding drained.
One by one, everyone started nodding, agreeing with Alba’s reasoning. A small, genuine smile touched her lips as the tension in the room eased.
“Great. Since that’s settled, take me to where I’ll be working,” Grey said as he rose to his feet.
His tone was flat but carried authority.
“And have the chosen warriors prepare their selected weapons. Notice I said weapons. Plural. Bring as many as you want because I expect trial and failure. Don’t blame me if the first attempts don’t go well.”
He stretched his shoulders and cracked his knuckles lightly, the faint sound echoing in the quiet hall.
“Also, get me hundreds of beast cores too, and that should be all,” Grey demanded as he rose from his seat.
His chair scraped lightly against the floor, echoing through the hall.
“Ash, take him to your workplace. That should be better,” Alba instructed.
The lean and frail warrior nodded immediately, his expression calm though a hint of curiosity flickered in his eyes.
“I will have Killian deliver the items you asked for in a few hours,” Alba added.
She glanced toward Grey, who only shrugged like it was nothing new. “In the meantime, the rest of us will go plan our next move.”
“And I will begin my training to evolve as soon as possible,” Dame said firmly.
Without waiting for a response, he turned around and marched out, determination written all over his stiff shoulders.
One by one, the remaining members dispersed, each walking off with different thoughts on their faces. Ash guided Grey out of the bar, and within minutes the place fell silent and empty.
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IN A DIFFERENT LOCATION, FAR FROM THE EYES OF MOST PEOPLE
The room was dim, painted with shadows that danced across the walls as braziers flickered faintly.
A heavy silence filled the space until a thunderous voice boomed out, vibrating through the air so violently that even the wooden floorboards quivered.
“Huh? Are you sure about this?” the deep voice asked.
Each word hit like a drum, the power behind it making the walls tremble.
“Yes, sire,” a calmer, more composed voice replied. “Our informant just confirmed it.
The Supreme Magus has returned to the Noxarian faction, and he is currently staying with the Crimson Lotus Clan.”
“Damn it! He should not be working with them. We need him on our side.” The booming voice cracked in anger, and the nearby lantern rattled from the impact.
“What should we do, sire?” the second figure asked cautiously.
“Are you truly asking me what to do?” the first voice thundered again, louder than before.
Dust drifted from the ceiling as the walls shook with each word.
“Mobilize five hundred men and have one of the vice clan leaders go bring him here.”
There was a pause, followed by a low growl.
“Actually… no. We need to appear kind,” the voice changed suddenly, the rage simmering beneath a cold, calculating tone.
“Tell the chosen vice leader to calmly invite him to our clan. If he refuses, he should be disposed of immediately.”
A smirk curled across the hidden figure’s face as he finally rose from his seat. The chair creaked under the force of his movement.
“When he is not senile, how can he reject an invitation from one of the two biggest clans in this faction? The Behemoth Clan stands above most. He would be insane not to accept.” The second figure replied with a smirk as he bowed down before adding:
“I will go inform one of the vice leaders now.”
He turned and exited the room quickly, leaving the large chamber filled with fading echoes of authority and the scent of burning oil.