Magus Supremacy-Chapter 840: Pin Drop Silence

Chapter 840

For a moment, the entire coliseum descended into absolute silence.

Fenrir had just been smashed away, and Alba’s group had successfully forced Pluck to his knees, only for the Leader of the Watcher’s Clan to interrupt the finishing blow.

The sudden quiet was unnerving, causing Orion to lift an eyebrow as he performed a quick, predatory scan of the arena.

What he saw made his body shake in genuine shock.

Rowen had been decapitated, his reign ended in a heartbeat. Drevor’s body was now little more than a bloody pulp.

Selene lay motionless, impaled upon a sword with a strange, haunting smile fixed on her face.

The leaders of the other clans within the Aetherian faction... had they truly lost?

Turning to look for those who had been battling these monsters, he saw the victors sprawled across the ground, unconscious or flagging, while being guarded by a small circle of allies.

The two dozen remaining guards glared at them, weapons drawn and vibrating with the intent to strike.

Feeling the heavy silence, even the leaders of the Umbrafell faction turned around in confusion, only to witness the fallen state of the Aetherian powerhouses.

Their eyes widened to such an extent that it seemed their sockets might pop.

How had these people been defeated?

Individuals with the power to level entire clans had just been taken down by a handful of slightly experienced warriors and students who weren’t even close to their established level?

Orion remained motionless as he tried his best to wrap his head around the carnage.

Rowen and Selene were gone.

He knew their strengths firsthand; after all, before claiming the reins of the Aetherian faction, he had personally barged into their territories and challenged them one by one.

Though they had eventually lost to him, he had tasted their power and had been badly injured before coming out on top.

Selene’s Ki barrier technique, which eliminated anything that drew near?

It had been a monumental struggle taking her down.

His only saving grace back then was that she hadn’t yet acquired her sentient whip.

And then there was Rowen, with his explosive Ki and terrifying brute force.

How had such figures lost to a bunch of kids sprinkled with a dash of academy instructors? It didn’t make sense.

Fenrir was still sprawled on the ground, obviously totally knocked out from that singular, devastating wave attack.

In the same way Orion was stumped, those in the North booth were equally paralyzed.

They hadn’t been watching the other battles closely because they assumed the outcome was a foregone conclusion—after all, the opponents were just "kids" in terms of raw strength.

Everyone’s attention had been fixed on Orion’s clash, captivated by high-level combatants and the hope of seeing the legend’s full strength.

They had been so absorbed in his battle that they hadn’t even registered when the other leaders’ auras vanished without a trace.

This was why the coliseum was now as silent as a tomb.

Taking advantage of the lull, the Leader of the Watcher’s Clan stepped firmly between Alba and Pluck.

"Let him go. I will take him and the kids and leave this place now. If you kill him, you would be creating more problems for yourselves once the Leader of the Behemoth Clan finds out. You know that, right?"

Alba scowled, her sword still humming with lethal energy.

"And if I don’t kill him, he will only remain a menace in the future."

"Then you can kill him then," the Watcher replied flatly, his eyes cold.

Pluck frowned at the exchange happening over his head as if he were a mere commodity.

"Did I ask for your intervention?!" the giant roared.

The Leader of the Watcher’s Clan glared down at the man in sudden, sharp fury.

"Enough of your nonsense today! Look around you! These people were able to take down the supposedly indomitable leaders of the Aetherian faction. Do you truly think you will be a problem to them now?"

The man paused for a moment, his voice bouncing across the silent coliseum, commanding the attention of every soul listening in.

"... Funnily enough, we haven’t even seen the one who brought them here act at all, and you think it’s wise to provoke them further?!"

As he spoke, he leveled a finger toward Grey, who remained centered in his deep state of cultivation, seemingly oblivious to the carnage surrounding him.

Pluck fumed, his chest heaving with a mixture of suppressed rage and humiliation.

He wanted to press the issue—to reclaim his honor—but as the veil of annoyance finally cleared, the cold reality of the situation set in.

The man in front of him was right.

Who in this world didn’t know Rowen’s name? And yet, what had become of him?

He was gone, his head sliced from his shoulders as if he were a mere novice.

It wasn’t worth fighting them... at least, not yet.

"Fine then," Pluck spat. With a heavy, disgruntled gait, he stomped away, followed closely by the Leader of the Watcher’s Clan.

.....

"What the actual fuck happened here?!"

Orion’s roar bellowed into the air, the sheer volume shaking the very foundation of the arena.

His voice trembled with a rare, unstable fury as he glared at the battlefield.

His trusted and powerful allies were all dead.

He had been so consumed in his own duel that he hadn’t even registered the shifting tides, and now that the dust had settled, a grim realization dawned on him.

He had been playing around for far too long.

His arms and abdomen were still leaking crimson from the strike Fenrir had landed earlier, and the sight of his own blood only added fuel to the fire as he stared at the mage sprawled unconscious on the ground.

He turned his gaze toward the two dozen men rooted in place like statues.

"What the hell are you waiting for?! Take their fucking heads off now! Avenge your dead leaders NOW!"

That was the command they had been waiting for.

Instantly, the guards surged forward, a wave of steel and Ki aimed at Brook, Judy, and Ash, who stood protectively in front of Grey’s fallen allies.

Before Thalos could even blink, Orion demonstrated a level of speed he hadn’t bothered to show since the beginning of the fray.

In a split second, he appeared over Fenrir’s defenseless body.

His foot shot down toward the mage’s head with lethal, bone-crushing velocity.

’Shit!’ Thalos cursed inwardly, his muscles straining, knowing he wouldn’t be able to bridge the gap in time.

Until,

’Noir.’

A loud, thunderous whoosh echoed through the stands.

In the blink of an eye, a massive wolf charged at Orion, its horns pointed toward the man like a battering ram.

The beast’s form glowed with a deadly, spectral intent.

Orion was forced to leap back, allowing the wolf to rush past, but the familiar suddenly performed a violent, 360-degree drift.

Using the momentum, Noir smashed his powerful hind legs into Orion’s face with every ounce of strength he possessed.

The impact sent the Aetherian leader sliding backwards, his expression clouded by genuine confusion.

Simultaneously, the two dozen guards were almost upon Brook, Judy, and Ash when...

"Spatial magic; Dimensional Slash."

A calm, cold voice cut through the chaos.

It was followed by the slow flutter of eyelids as a pair of piercing, brown eyes glared ahead with absolute clarity.

A tear appeared in the fabric of space itself.

In a sudden flash of distorted light, all twenty-four guards crumpled to the ground.

Their bodies were torn open around their torsos, blood spraying into the air like a macabre fountain.

Gasps rippled across the coliseum as every eye naturally darted to the source of the voice.

Thalos, seeing the figure, let out a wide, unrestrained grin.

His joy knew no bounds as he watched the familiar crimson hair fluttering in the wind.

’Took you long enough....’