Magus Supremacy

Chapter 920: Karma (2)

Chapter 920

Freedom! Freedom! Freedom!

The officials repeated the word in their heads like a sacred mantra as they steadily approached the exit.

It was getting closer and closer.

With each step they took, they could see their salvation manifesting before them.

Freedom from the staggering carnage.

Freedom from the acrid scent of scorched remains permeating the room.

Freedom from the iron tang of blood flowing across the floor.

And most especially, freedom from the demon wearing the skin of a human.

They were incredibly close, but the slick, crimson coating on the marble wasn’t making their progress any easier.

They could almost hear the quiet murmurs of the conversation between Grey and Janet behind them.

They breathed sighs of relief, knowing that they were finally within reach of the outside world.

Just a bit more.

Throughout their entire sprint toward the double doors, they had been plagued by worry, constantly glancing over their shoulders.

What if the boy appeared out of thin air to strike them down?

The whole ordeal was mentally exhausting, but each time they peered back and saw him occupied, they felt a momentary surge of hope.

Finally, they reached the threshold, and the six of them rushed forward simultaneously.

None of them wanted to be the one left behind.

They grabbed the handles and pushed the doors wide, causing the heavy wood to creak outward.

The brilliant sunlight hit their faces, forcing them to squint for a moment as their eyes adjusted.

Then, they looked down to see even more devastation outside.

The guards who had been standing watch earlier were gone.

There was no time to feel disgusted by the gruesome sight as they scrambled over the debris.

Freedom was right in front of them.

Just a few more paces and they would leave the terrifying youth in the shadows.

But before they could take another step, they froze.

Their eyes went wide as the hairs on their bodies stood on end immediately.

It felt as if their skin were crawling with an unseen pressure, forcing their muscles to lock in place.

Then came the chilling, ethereal voice they never wanted to hear again.

"Uh... where are you all headed?"

Stiffly turning their necks around like rusted machinery, they saw the warrior mage standing there, looking at them with a look of feigned confusion.

"We—we—we... You said we could leave?" one of the officials stammered, cold sweat cascading down his face.

The others were similarly drenched in a cold perspiration.

The terror they felt for the individual before them was palpable, and it was entirely warranted.

Grey lifted a brow, appearing genuinely puzzled.

"Did I really say you all can leave?" he asked while stroking his chin thoughtfully.

The officials glanced at one another in disbelief.

Was the youth truly toying with them at a moment like this?

This was maddening. This was infuriating.

The men facing Grey were mages too, but unlike Bale, they had quickly realized they were no match for him, which was why they hadn’t dared to strike.

The dozen men stared at him with mounting anger.

The entire situation was simply too much to bear.

Finally, one of the men snapped, his fear turning into a reckless, white-hot fury.

"Stop playing with us, Kid! Let us GO NO—"

The word hung in the man’s throat like a persistent bone.

Something else occupied his throat as well—a Ki sword protruding from his neck with a wicked, shimmering glow.

"You all need to learn to respect your elders, really," Grey uttered with a tired, heavy sigh.

The remaining men froze, paralyzed as they watched their companion crumple to the ground, life fading as a dark pool gathered beneath his frame.

"And about your misconceptions, I never said you all could leave," Grey added, his gaze sweeping over the eleven men staring at him with wide, disbelieving eyes.

"Damn it! Stop screwing with us already!" one of the men screamed in a fit of rage, lunging forward with desperate intent.

The others looked at him as if he had lost his mind.

"Come on, guys! He can’t take all of us on!" the charging man shouted in a state of premium delusion.

However, after taking only a few more steps, he realized he was alone.

He halted abruptly, looking around to see the other ten rooted in their positions, refusing to move.

"Wha—"

That was when the reality of his situation dawned on him.

His earlier boast was indeed foolish.

... Can’t take all of us?

The warrior mage had already proven he could handle far greater numbers only minutes prior.

Hundreds of mages had stood no chance against his might; what could a measly ten survivors hope to accomplish?

The realization struck him with crushing force as he slowly turned to find that Grey had already closed the distance.

Like a vengeful spirit, the blade Clara flashed forward, leaving a deep mark that signaled the end of the man’s struggle.

His eyes widened in a mixture of pain and horror as he reached for the injury before hitting the floor with a wet thud.

Swinging his sword to the side, Grey cleared the blade of any residue.

Lifting his head, the weapon vanished as he offered a chilling smile to the remaining group.

"So... what are your last wishes? I might be kind enough to grant them."

One of the older officials, whose hand had been lost when Grey first seized the wine goblet, stepped forward with a trembling resolve.

"Let us go. That’s what we wish for."

Grey shook his head slowly. "Not a chance."

"Why? You promised! You told us we could leave!"

Grey shrugged his shoulders. "Well, I changed my mind."

"No, you can’t! We had nothing to do with Cedric’s death! Heck, the innocent people you took down in town had nothing to do with this either!"

Grey nodded calmly, acknowledging the point.

"True. True. You all didn’t have anything to do with the act itself."

"Then?"

"Well," Grey shrugged again.

"I was furious. Besides, you all were here partying with Bale on account of Cedric’s passing."

"Bu—"

Grey exhaled deeply, rubbing his temples as the weight of the day seemed to press down on him. "I’m tired."

Click—!

The men’s eyes widened as a dozen wind swords manifested, hovering directly before them in the air.

Before they had any chance to beg for mercy, the translucent blades surged forward with lethal precision.

Every strike found a vital mark, resulting in an instantaneous end to their resistance.

They collapsed to the floor with resounding thuds, while Grey surveyed the quiet hall with a stoic, calm expression.

A few seconds later, he let out a long, weary sigh.

"Man... that was exhausting."