Magus Supremacy - Chapter 644
Chapter 644: Do not disappoint
Chapter 644
In a certain warehouse-looking building, Grey sat cross-legged in one of the many rooms, eyes closed and breathing steady.
He had remained in that position for nearly an hour, silently waiting for the materials he requested.
The room was not large, yet not small either.
It was completely bare, empty of furniture, and spacious enough to fit a single elephant with ease. In front of Grey lay a small pile of white chalks arranged neatly on the floor.
Behind him, about three metres away, stood a steel door that served as both exit and entrance.
The metal looked thick, almost reinforced, as if it was designed to contain heat or pressure or something far more dangerous.
For Grey, it was perfect. He would not be interrupted once he began working.
Knock, knock, knock.
The sharp sound cut through the quiet room, breaking his concentration. Grey opened his eyes, and they gleamed with fresh energy.
“Supreme Magus, we have brought the materials you demanded,” a voice called from outside.
It was faint, nearly swallowed by the thick door, but his sharp ears caught every syllable.
Grey rose calmly, walked over, and opened the door.
Killian stood before him, holding two large crates filled to the top.
“Great,” Grey muttered.
He dragged the crates inside with little effort, then turned to the warrior.
“Do not disturb me. And make sure nobody else disturbs me either. When I am done, I will come out. If anyone breaks my concentration, do not blame me when the weapon turns out defective.”
“Got it. And I will wait around in case you need something.
Just please, make sure my weapon is insanely powerful so the others will be jealous.” Killian’s eyes glittered like twin stars as he begged.
“I will try,” Grey replied coldly. He shut the door in Killian’s face and walked deeper into the room, leaving the man standing there like a confused statue.
Inside again, Grey stepped to the center of the room and opened the crates.
He tipped them forward, and a flood of weapons poured out. Metal clattered loudly against the ground, echoing off the empty walls until the entire room felt alive with noise.
There were two main types of weapons, though each came in various shapes and sizes. About ten massive shields tumbled out first. These were not ordinary shields meant to block blades. They looked more like portable walls.
Tower shields.
Tall defensive weapons roughly three to four feet high and wide enough to cover most of a warrior’s body.
“Sheesh. I am guessing these belong to Brook, huh?” Grey muttered as he examined the bulky equipment. “How does he even move with something this heavy? I do not think I can.”
He shifted his attention to the next pile.
A dozen swords glimmered on the floor, each crafted to be wielded in pairs. Double swords. One for each hand.
“So Killian uses two swords,” Grey murmured with a tired sigh.
He moved to the second crate and opened it. This one was filled to the brim with beast cores, each glowing faintly with stored energy and a warm hum that brushed against his skin.
“This should be around three hundred beast cores,” Grey said quietly. He lifted a few and noticed faint blood stains and small cracks on several stones. “And I saw injuries on Killian too. So they hunted all of these themselves?”
He sighed again as he half emptied the crate. “Sheesh. How badly do they want these modified weapons?”
Then he sat down and began drawing symbols on the ground.
His hands moved calmly and systematically, dragging across the surface as he carved out intricate and complicated markings.
Each stroke felt deliberate, almost ritualistic, as the faint scent of dust rose from the floor.
In a few minutes, he was done.
Without glancing up, he reached out, grabbed a weapon at random and tossed it into the magic circle.
The metal clinked lightly as it landed. Then he pulled four beast cores from the pile and placed them one after another inside the circle, his movements slow and cautious, as if any sudden shift could trigger a mistake.
‘Since they are so eager, I guess I should not fail them.’ He smirked inwardly and finally began working in earnest.
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Meanwhile, outside the room, Killian paced up and down the hallway without his swords.
The absence of weight on his back felt strange, almost unnatural. Usually, no matter where he stepped, he carried at least two weapons, but now his hands were empty and his head was lowered.
He was deep in thought until the sound of footsteps echoed from below.
The warehouse-like building had two floors, the walls old and slightly damp, carrying the faint smell of wood and oil. Killian stood on the upper floor where several rooms lined the corridor, and Grey was working in one of them.
He stared at the staircase and soon saw Ash in his black robes climbing up, his steps measured and silent. When Ash reached him, the older man’s sunken eyes narrowed slightly.
“How is it?” Ash asked, his voice low as he studied Killian’s tense posture.
“I just delivered the materials to him,” Killian replied with a tired sigh. “He asked me not to let anybody disturb him while he works.”
Ash’s gaze shifted to Killian’s hands, noticing the scrapes and dried blood. “What happened to you? And where are your swords?”
Killian exhaled slowly and stared at his palms. “Do you know why I love this clan so much? Why I could possibly lay down my life for everyone here?”
“Huh?” Ash muttered, lifting an eyebrow in confusion.
But regardless of Ash’s comment, the warrior decided to answer his own question.
“It is because we treat each other like family,” Killian said as he finally looked up.
A soft smile formed on his face despite the exhaustion.
“Even though most of them didn’t get the slots for the weapons, they still helped me hunt the beast cores for the modification of my weapons and Brook’s. We fought beasts together for hours. That is how I got these injuries. I just returned.”
Ash nodded slowly, now understanding. Killian continued, “As for my swords, I tossed them in with the others I own. If I get lucky, those blades might be modified too.”
“Oh.” Ash let out a breath as he leaned on the railing beside him. He stared at the door where Grey was working, the silence of the hallway heavy and tense. “I wonder how long this will take,” he mumbled, eyes fixed on the door without blinking.