Magus Supremacy-Chapter 244: Rip your heads off!

"I declare death as your punishment," Ryan said coldly, his voice carrying through the wind as his squad members descended from the majestic wind bird, its massive wings flapping and unleashing a powerful gust that swept dust and tension across the battlefield.

"Kek Kek Kek!" The scarred man laughed, the sound harsh and guttural. His single eye glinted with amusement as he locked gazes with Ryan. "You know, for someone about to be buried under numbers, you sure talk big."

"Look around you," the silent executioner said, gesturing casually toward the massive army behind him.

Rows of armored men—five hundred strong—stood poised to rain chaos upon the Wysteria squad at a moment's notice. "You're outnumbered. Five hundred versus seven. We'll crush you and be at the royal capital before sundown."

"Will it really be that easy?" Ryan replied with a faint smile. In the blink of an eye, a gleaming crystal pillar shot forward with blistering speed, aiming straight for the executioner's throat.

But the enemy raised a hand, and a crushing force slammed down like an invisible hammer. The crystal crumbled midair, shattering into radiant shards.

'Gravity Magic…' Ryan narrowed his eyes and clicked his tongue. 'Annoying.'

"I'll give you a glimpse of Drakesville's strength," the scarred general declared. "But I won't soil my hands—my men will finish you." With a sharp snap of his fingers, his troops surged forward like a roaring tide.

"Pathetic," scoffed a student from Wysteria, his hands shoved into his pockets. The wind bird beside him rose into the air with grace, its wings stirring the wind.

With a flick of his fingers, the skies howled—and hundreds of slicing wind blades descended in a deadly rain.

The wind blades screamed toward the enemy forces.

Some soldiers attempted to counter—wind mages launched their own blades in return, while earth mages raised thick walls of stone to absorb the barrage.

The defensive efforts held—but only barely. Cracks spiderwebbed across the stone barriers.

Ryan's eyes flashed. With a stomp, a dozen crystalline pillars erupted from the ground, spearing through the fractured earth walls and sending mages flying like broken dolls.

In retaliation, the enemy launched their counter—blades of wind, slivers of metal, and sharpened stones tore through the air toward Wysteria's squad. freewebnσvel.cøm

But Ryan was ready. He slammed his foot down again, and a massive crystal wall surged upward, catching the storm of attacks like a fortress of glass. The spells slammed into it, sparking and fizzing—only to be absorbed without leaving so much as a scratch.

Then, the wall began to spin.

"What the—?" murmured one enemy mage, confused by the swirling barrier.

They didn't have time to ponder. More spells flew, only to vanish into the spinning crystal wall.

"Crystal Magic—Mirror Prism," Ryan declared with a smirk.

A pulse of light burst from the wall—and then the stolen spells were unleashed.

At twice their original speed, the wall spat out a storm of vengeance: whirling wind blades, jagged metal shards, and lethal earth spikes tore through the battlefield like a reaper's scythe.

A wind blade pierced a man's chest, a metal shard embedded itself in another's skull, and an earth spike jutted grotesquely through a mage's throat.

In one devastating counter, Ryan eliminated fifty soldiers.

He exhaled slowly, stepping back, eyes now fixed on the duo of enemy generals who watched with cruel smiles—entertained, not threatened.

"I leave the rest to you all," Ryan called over his shoulder. "These generals aren't to be trifled with—I need to stay at full strength."

"Finally!" a voice rang out as a silver-haired student stepped forward. His flowing hair danced in the breeze, while around his hands, an eerie black liquid writhed and twisted. A sword formed in one hand, a metal gauntlet in the other.

"I was starting to get bored," he muttered, then burst forward, wind whipping against his face as he dashed straight into the fray.

Dozens of wind blades screamed toward him, but he pivoted sharply—his movements fluid, almost serpentine.

The blades missed by inches, slamming into the ground behind him in small explosions of dust and debris.

He pushed off the ground, launching forward. From his gauntlet, a volley of metal spikes shot out like bullets, slamming into unsuspecting soldiers and punching gaping holes through skulls.

Four massive earth spears flew toward him.

He swung his sword in a sharp arc, cleaving through three of them—thunk!—the fourth spear grazed his arm, drawing a thin line of blood as it knocked him back a step.

"F*ck you all!" he roared.

Mid-swing, his sword warped, reshaping into a metal whip that lashed forward with a crack, slicing open a man's throat in a shower of crimson.

Wind blades closed in again. He jumped, twisting his body like a wheel, flipping mid-air to avoid them all.

He landed hard on one knee, eyes blazing as he stared down the next wave of enemies charging a spell.

He slammed the ground. Black liquid rippled from his gauntlet, flowing forward like a serpent.

Beneath four mages, it erupted—metal spikes shooting up from the earth, impaling their legs and dropping them with screams of agony.

Then—whoosh!

An earth spike shot toward his head from behind.

A gust of wind intercepted, swirling around the spike and flinging it away like a leaf in a storm.

Another student, calm and composed, stepped forward with his wind bird circling overhead.

"You should know better than to rush in alone, Nozel," he said evenly.

The rest of the squad joined the fray. Spells flew like meteors. Blood sprayed. Bodies thudded.

"I do what I want. You're not the boss of me," Nozel snapped, rising to his feet, his gaze locked on five mages ahead. His lips curled into a cruel smile.

This was Nozel—the son of Wysteria Academy's principal. The same one who had clashed with Grey during the academy assessment, ending in a draw that shook the school.

'I wonder how much he's grown,' Nozel thought, remembering that duel. 'If I see him again… I'll rip his head off.'

But first…

His gauntlet spun rapidly. With a mechanical whir, its knuckles opened, transforming into a deadly-looking cannon.

"I'll start by ripping yours off!" he bellowed, thrusting the cannon forward.

With a roar, metal shards exploded from his arm, hurtling toward the five mages like a storm of death.