Magus Supremacy-Chapter 262: Instructor Eric!

Grey, who had been reluctantly forced to participate in the assessment for the Lunaria Academy's tournament, stood near the edge of the hall, his arms crossed and expression unreadable.

It was then that Lyra approached, her steps hesitant but determined, her cheeks tinged with a rosy blush.

Grey shifted uncomfortably. Her words, though sincere, prickled at his nerves. The atmosphere grew tense as Lyra pressed on, undeterred by his silence, until—he finally snapped.

Sparks of lightning crackled around him, the volatile energy crawling along his arms and illuminating the space like a warning flare.

His eyes burned with barely restrained power as he faced her down, his aura screaming danger.

And then—

Bang!

The heavy double doors slammed open with a thunderous crash that echoed through the hall like a battle gong. All heads turned. The training hall, once buzzing with chatter and murmurs, fell into complete silence.

A gust of wind swept in, rustling cloaks and hair, as if heralding the arrival of something—or someone—extraordinary.

A man stepped into the room, alone, yet carrying the weight of a battalion in his stride.

He wore a moss-green cloak that trailed behind him like a forest shadow, embroidered with golden leaves that shimmered with an arcane glow under the ambient light.

His boots—worn and travel-stained—clacked faintly against the marble floor, though each step carried the deliberate grace of a seasoned predator.

He wasn't especially tall, but the air around him seemed to bend in deference. His posture was upright and disciplined, every motion precise and unwavering.

His hair, a blend of ash-gray and deep forest green, was tied neatly into a low ponytail that brushed his shoulders.

A long, jagged scar curved from his left temple to his jawline. The skin around it was darker than the rest of his face and pulsed with a soft, rhythmic glow—as if it contained dormant magic. The scar didn't mar him—it defined him.

When he spoke, his voice held a commanding resonance. Not loud, but each syllable echoed within the chests of everyone present, as if his words were laced with spellcraft.

"I am Instructor Eric Thorne, combat specialist of Everwood Academy. Today, I am your trial... and your lesson."

"Instructor Eric?" Dave whispered, his eyes wide as he scrutinized the man. "That's the most strict instructor at Everwood. I mean, they're all strict over there—including the captain—but this guy? He's next level."

"Who are you whispering to?" Dante whispered back, leaning slightly toward Dave.

"Was I talking to you?" Dave raised a brow.

"Continue," Dante said with a shrug, returning his attention to the formidable instructor.

'Hmm. This instructor does seem powerful... but nothing I should worry about,' Grey thought as he folded his arms. 'Anyway, time to fail whatever assessments are about to begin.'

Eric surveyed the students. "Today, you all will take part in three assessments to determine whether you're fit to represent your academy in the tournament."

He paused when he noticed a hand raised. With a slight nod, the student stepped forward—Grey.

"Umm... I have a question," Grey said as he walked calmly toward the front of the hall.

"It was already obvious when you raised your hand. So shoot, and stop wasting my time," Eric snapped.

'He's quite rude. I wonder if I can just… No. It's not wise to antagonize another academy,' Grey mused inwardly.

"If the tournament coming up is an intra-academy event—second years versus third years—why are you here? Shouldn't Lunaria's own instructors be handling this?" Grey asked, his brows furrowed. "It doesn't concern the other academies, right?"

Eric's frown deepened. "That's both a good and a silly question," he said, eyes narrowing on Grey.

"How so?" Grey remained unfazed by the glare.

"You see, the inter-tournament competition is how the four great academies evaluate each other's strength. To determine which academy is producing the best combatants."

He paused, letting his words hang for effect.

"To prepare for that, the intra-tournament was created. Each academy pits its second and third-year students against each other. The strongest will emerge and represent their school in the inter-academy competition," Eric explained, his tone rigid.

Everyone listened intently, hanging on every word.

Grey folded his arms. "That was a nice little history lesson, but it doesn't exactly answer my question."

"And I was getting to that—before you interrupted me," Eric barked. A sudden gust of wind burst through the hall, scattering loose scrolls before dying down just as quickly.

'Wind magic… Interesting,' Grey thought.

"Due to past incidents involving noble students bribing their instructors to get selected, academies now rotate assessors. An unfamiliar instructor can't be bribed easily. That's why I'm here."

Grey blinked. "Isn't that still kind of dumb? A noble could still try bribing you."

Eric tilted his head. "How can you bribe someone you've never met, and will likely never meet again?"

"It's still possible," Grey shrugged. "Guess the academies didn't think it through properly."

"I don't need the weakest student here telling me how academies should function," Eric said coldly, clenching his fists.

"Weakest?" Dante muttered, shooting a look toward Grey, who had stopped mid-step.

"For the audacity to waste my time and challenge me before we've even started, I hereby declare—by the authority given to me—you are to sit out the first assessment," Eric said.

Grey, with his back turned to the instructor, grinned faintly.

"Perfect," he murmured, walking off as if this was all going according to plan.

"In… Instructor Eric, isn't that too harsh?" Vanica spoke up, her voice shaking as she glanced between Eric and Grey.

"Do you want to sit the first assessment out too?" Eric snapped.

Vanica immediately shook her head.

"Then I advise all of you—keep your damn mouths shut and do as I say!"

"Yes, sir!" the students chorused in unison, fear tightening their postures.

Meanwhile, Grey leaned against the far wall, arms crossed and eyes shut, the picture of indifference.

'That weak peasant dared to question me? His aura and mana output were pathetic—almost nonexistent. I can sense everyone's energy in this room, and while some are decent... his barely registers,' Eric thought, casting a cold glance toward Grey's corner.

"Now, time for the first assessment," Eric declared, clapping his hands together as the air shimmered with anticipation.