Chapter 1512: Cyclone Colossus
Immediately after Ibarin slammed his fist against his chest, the signal was given.
His body erupted.
His core split open like a cracking shell, releasing a violent surge of magic as wind wrapped around him in a spiraling wall. In an instant, it condensed so densely that it became visible to the naked eye, raging bands of air solidifying around his form like spinning armor.
The air around Ibarin began to hum, a low, eerie tremor that rattled the broken stones beneath his feet. Dust lifted from the ground, drawn toward him as if some invisible hand were pulling every grain closer. His hair whipped upward. His eyes glowed a pale, haunting white as the very wind bent to his will.
A deafening crack echoed through the arena like the sky splitting apart.
The air exploded outward, and then collapsed back in, swirling violently around him.
Winds screamed, twisting faster and faster until his form vanished completely within a raging wall of air.
And from the storm’s heart, a shape emerged.
A towering silhouette rose from the vortex, its limbs sculpted from whirling currents, its chest glowing with the faint blue shimmer of compressed mana. The Cyclone Colossus stood like a storm given flesh, its body transparent yet immense, the edges flickering as though reality itself struggled to hold it together.
With its first step, the ground cratered. Pressure blasted across the battlefield, flattening nearby trees and hurling stones away like scraps of paper.
Ibarin stood inside the colossus’s chest, a faint figure suspended in the eye of the storm, his arms spread wide as if commanding the winds themselves.
“This is his Breakthrough,” Raze muttered, eyes narrowing as he stared up at the titan of wind. “I thought he wouldn’t risk using it with so many people here… but I guess I was a fool.”
Just the mere presence of the Breakthrough form was enough to tear the battlefield apart. Wind currents sliced across the arena like countless invisible blades.
Safa was forced to work overtime.
She planted her feet and summoned her light magic, casting a dome of radiance around the stands to shield the guests. The barrier flickered under the constant pressure. People inside struggled to breathe as the air was ripped away, several of them getting shallow cuts across their arms and faces from the slicing wind.
Safa gritted her teeth, constantly channeling her healing abilities to mend the wounds as fast as they appeared.
Meanwhile, Raze launched himself upward, his dark wings flaring from his back. He darted around the spinning titan, swinging his sword with the Dusk Wing formation.
Lines of dark magic carved out from his blade, lashing across the creature’s legs and arms.
But the results were grim.
Each slash tore away only scraps of wind before the air simply folded back in, sealing the wounds like water closing over a stone. The damage was nothing. The wind instantly reformed, spinning faster than before.
“I need to try an even stronger attack than that,” Raze growled, raising his sword in both hands.
Even Liam’s sword, capable of cutting through anything, would be useless here. The wind strands were spinning so fast they had become as dense as steel, redirecting the blows with sheer force.
Which meant Raze had only one option, overwhelm it with more power than it could regenerate.
“Eclipse Formation, second form!”
His blade darkened until it looked like a crack of night carved out of the world itself. He swung it down.
A black crescent tore through the air, the sky itself dimming in its wake.
The strike ripped toward the glowing center where Ibarin stood.
But the colossus moved.
Its two massive arms converged, hands slamming together in front of its chest like a shield.
The Eclipse Strike hit with a deafening impact. The vortex of wind around its arms began to disintegrate under the pressure, only to whirl back in, wrapping over itself like living tissue.
The attack fizzled out. The darkness was consumed.
And the Cyclone Colossus still stood there, towering, untouched.
“Damn…” Liam muttered from the wall. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen Raze’s Eclipse Strike have next to no effect like that. That thing has to be seriously strong.”
As if to answer him, the colossal being moved its arm.
The tips of its giant fingers unraveled into spinning vortexes, each one the size of a carriage.
They slammed down on Raze.
The vortex crashed into him like a falling mountain, the sheer force blasting him down from the sky and driving his body into the ground. Stone shattered under the impact, cracks spiderwebbing outward.
The vortex continued to press down on him, layers of slicing wind crushing him beneath their weight, the air itself screaming as it compressed around his body.
But then,
A flash of light.
Raze roared, forcing his blade upward as he poured Qi and dark magic through it. A pulse of destructive energy tore through the swirling winds, breaking a hole in the vortex as he drove his sword forward.
The attack was Void Pulse.
It split the winds just long enough for him to blast free, streaking across the ground and skidding to a halt.
He sucked in a sharp breath, sweat dripping down his face.
’My Blazer is doing a lot of the heavy lifting here… otherwise, that would have crushed me,’ Raze thought grimly. ’With such a massive creature like this, there’s really only one way to beat him. I’ll have to pour more dark magic and Qi into my blade than the wind he’s creating.’
Slowly, he raised his sword.
He turned the flat of the blade toward Ibarin, the shadows around it deepening.
His voice rang clear across the roaring battlefield.
“Eternal Night Formation… the eighth formation.”
****
*****
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Chapter 1513: Eternal Night
The eighth formation was unlike any of Raze’s other techniques. It wasn’t designed as an attack, it was a foundation, a power source meant to amplify every other formation he possessed. But such strength came at a heavy cost. To unleash it required a staggering amount of energy, and if he used it recklessly, there was a very real chance his Qi and mana would be completely drained. If that happened, he would be left standing in the center of the battlefield, surrounded by enemies, utterly defenseless.
Normally, it would be suicide.
But this time was different.
This time, he wasn’t alone. He was surrounded by people he could trust, people strong enough to pull him out alive if he collapsed. That knowledge let him push forward without hesitation.
Darkness surged from his sword, spilling across the arena like ink. It crept through every crack in the stone floor, swallowing the light as it spread, and within moments it had covered the ground and then climbed into the air, blotting out the shattered sky. The sun’s glow dimmed, the air chilled, and a collective shiver rippled through the stands.
“What is this…?” Ibarin thought, his eyes narrowing as the darkness coiled around him. “He’s never used anything like this before. Could it be… with that new body… did he create a new magic core? A core not of wind… but of Dark Magic?” His eyes hardened as the swirling shadows thickened. “But to cover an entire battlefield like this… just how many lives did he take to gain this much power!?”
The Grand Magus’s voice roared through the howling air, carried by the winds as his colossal form stirred. “I see now! You are living true to your name, Dark Magus! You’ve slaughtered countless people to obtain this power! And now I, Grand Magus Ibarin, will eliminate you. I will accomplish the greatest deed this world has seen… and I will have done it alone!”
The colossus raised its massive hand. Wind screamed, the air tearing itself apart as it swung down, vortexes swirling around its titanic fingers as they crashed toward Raze. Yet Raze didn’t move. Instead, he swung his sword several times, each strike releasing dark tendrils that whipped through the blackened air. They shot forward like living chains, coiling around the giant’s fingers and locking them mid-swing.
“Shadow Bind Formation.”
The colossal hand froze in place.
Raze was already moving, sprinting up the massive arm with his boots crackling in arcs of lightning. His Dusk Wings flared wide, black feathers cutting through the air behind him. As he ran, dark runes began to glow along his sword, and with every slash he carved them into the spinning winds of the arm, embedding them like brands. More and more appeared, spreading across the colossal limb like glowing scars.
The other arm swept in from the side, aiming to crush him. Raze’s sword hissed, exuding black mist that dissolved into the darkness all around them. Because of the Eternal Night Formation, the battlefield was drowning in dark magic, and that darkness obeyed him. He swung, and beast-like shapes burst from his blade, massive creatures forged of pure shadow. They twisted and howled as they launched themselves at the incoming currents, biting and clawing to slow the attack.
This was the true advantage of Eternal Night. Dark magic and Qi filled the entire area, saturating it like a storm. It allowed Raze to draw on the surrounding energy, weaving it into his Dark Edge Sword Arts without pause. He could chain his techniques endlessly, attack after attack, without delay, as long as Eternal Night remained.
And there was one more effect.
His Demonic Qi.
It seeped through the darkness, invisible and relentless, draining energy from everything within it. Mana, Qi, even life force, nothing was spared. Right now, Raze wasn’t just draining power from Ibarin… he was siphoning energy from every mage in the stands as well. Their limbs were growing heavy, their spells faltering, and none of them even realized why.
“Let’s finish this,” Raze said, his voice low and cold. He raised his sword, dark energy spiraling around him like the rings of a dying star.
He used several of the Descending Steps in rapid succession, compressing his strength into the blade. The Shadow Bind chains shattered as the colossal arm began to move again, but by then Raze had already leapt free. He blurred across the sky, his sword cutting down in a streak of black light straight toward Ibarin’s glowing core.
The colossal being did exactly what he expected. Its massive arms crossed in front of its chest to shield it like before.
And that was the moment.
The nightmare beasts Raze had conjured detonated across the left arm, their dark bodies bursting in waves of destructive energy. At the same time, the runes he had carved into the right arm all ignited at once, exploding in a chain of black flares. The blasts tore through the spinning wind, shredding the colossal arms apart as the currents unraveled.
Then Raze’s Eclipse Strike cleaved down the center.
The black crescent speared through the opening, slamming into the glowing chest, a sphere of compressed mana, almost like an exposed core. A thunderous boom cracked the air as the swirling winds around Ibarin shattered.
The colossal form unraveled like smoke in a storm.
The howling air fell to silence.
Ibarin stood exposed, floating in the fading remnants of his storm, his defenses gone.
And Raze was already there.
Lightning danced down his legs, the Dusk Wings flaring behind him as his body blurred forward faster than sight.
“You had this coming for a long time,” Raze said coldly, his sword thrusting straight for Ibarin’s chest. “This position… was never yours.”
His blade struck.
“Void Pulse Strike!”
*****
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Chapter 1514: The Grand Magus lost? (Part 1)
When Raze fought, he wasn’t just swinging his sword blindly or unleashing his techniques in desperation, hoping something would get through. Every move he made was deliberate. Every strike, every step, every breath was calculated.
Through the endless clash, he had been quietly studying Ibarin’s patterns, watching the movements of the colossal vortex of wind, watching how the swirling currents repaired themselves when they were broken. He had measured the density of the winds, feeling how much resistance his sword met each time it cut through.
Using his system and experience, Raze had worked out exactly how much Dark Magic and Qi it would take to shatter the currents before they could reform. If he struck too softly, the wind would stitch itself back together. If he wasted too much, he would be drained before he even reached the core.
But through his tests and careful observation, he had also come to a conclusion: the core, the place where Ibarin stood suspended in the center, was the true weak point.
Otherwise, why protect it so fiercely?
Yet even with that knowledge, a sliver of doubt cut through his mind.
What if it was a trap?
A glowing center so obvious, so exposed, that it lured every opponent to target it, only to crush them when they came too close? A false weakness, like a moth’s flame?
A mage like Ibarin would never place himself at the center of his creation without preparing for such a strike. There had to be something waiting there, a hidden defensive mechanism, a final safeguard.
And Raze had thought of this too. He always did.
So as he prepared the Void Pulse strike, Qi and mana coiling up his arm like twin serpents, his eyes never left Ibarin. He watched how the colossal winds moved. How the shattered edges bent inward toward the center, spiraling tighter, glowing brighter, almost like the remnants of the wind giant were gathering again in one final act of defense.
This sight only made Raze smile.
He launched himself forward, blade flashing in a blur.
The Void Pulse strike surged down the centerline of the colossal storm. The sword tore through the compressed currents like a spear of black lightning, Dark Qi exploding from the edge as it smashed apart layer after layer of twisting wind.
The howling winds shrieked as they split.
Some of the wild currents lashed out at him, cutting across his cheek and shoulders, but the moment they touched, his Blazer flared to life. Dark magic surged across his body like a shadowy second skin, breaking down the currents before they could dig deeper. Even the shallow scratches that managed to cut him were sealed instantly by the healing aura pulsing through the Blazer’s enchantments.
And then the blade struck true.
It pierced clean through Ibarin’s shoulder.
The steel erupted out the other side in a burst of mana and blood. The Grand Magus let out a strangled cry as his entire body convulsed, the flow of his magic stuttering violently for the first time.
’In the end, it doesn’t matter how I win,’ Raze thought as his grip tightened on the blade, black energy sparking around his fingers. ’What matters is that I take you down.’
He didn’t know if Liam had timed the throw perfectly or had simply hurled the sword toward him as a precaution, but it didn’t matter. It had been perfect.
Even amidst the chaos of dark magic and roaring wind, Raze had snatched it out of the air. Liam’s system had likely calculated the precise arc and moment for the throw, weaving it perfectly through the battlefield.
Now, that same sword had sliced effortlessly through Ibarin’s flesh.
Raze didn’t hesitate.
He yanked the blade out in one smooth motion, spun his body, and then slammed the sword down like a falling hammer. The tip crashed deep into Ibarin’s gut.
The Grand Magus’s body was ripped from the air.
The orb of protective wind around him shattered as he was hurled down, crashing into the arena floor with a thunderous crack. The tiles broke apart beneath him, dust and shards exploding out like shrapnel.
A heavy silence swept across the stands.
The strike had been packed with Qi, but Raze had been careful, he hadn’t used too much. He couldn’t kill Ibarin. Not yet.
As the colossal form disintegrated into wisps of scattered air, Raze let out a slow breath. The swirling winds dissolved completely, and with them, the oppressive storm finally ended.
He drew the Eternal Night formation back into himself, the cloak of darkness peeling away like mist, fading into his chest.
He could still feel his Qi and mana, though both were faint and flickering. The formation had kept him from draining himself entirely, but even so, his body felt heavy. His arms ached from the constant swings.
And he knew the truth:
If another of the Grand Magus appeared now, like they had done in the past, he wouldn’t be able to fight at full strength again. But there was still something he could do.
The moment his boots hit the cracked arena tiles, Raze lifted his hand and slammed it down. A crushing wave of gravitational magic exploded outward. The ground beneath Ibarin caved in with a deafening boom.
The Grand Magus let out a choked gasp as the invisible weight slammed down on him. His body flattened into the cratered stone, his fingers clawing weakly at the shattered floor as if trying to push himself up, only for his arms to collapse under the pressure.
“It’s impossible for you to get up now,” Raze said, his voice cutting cold through the silence. “You can feel it, can’t you? Your magic… it’s fading. And soon, it’ll be completely gone.”
This was the curse of the breakthrough.Every mage knew it. After the explosion of power came the crash, the void where no mana would flow.
Ibarin had poured out everything. And now he had nothing left. The Grand Magus lay pinned to the earth, chest heaving, aura flickering like a dying star. Raze stood over him, shadowed and unmoving, the victor.
All across the stands, silence rippled like a living thing. The crowd, mages, nobles, students, and warriors alike, understood what they were seeing.
They had witnessed the fall of a Grand Magus.
The only question that remained hung in the air like a blade:
Would anyone move to save him?
Or would they simply stand back… and let the Dark Magus finish this?
*****
For updates for MWS and future works, please follow me on my social media below.
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Chapter 1515: The Grand Magus lost? (Part 2)
The crowd was constantly whispering and murmuring to one another in low, uneasy voices. There was none of the roaring excitement from earlier, none of the cheers that had once echoed through the arena when the first clashes had begun.
Because now, reality was finally sinking in.
The Grand Magus had gone wild during the battle, his attacks tearing through the air like storms, almost striking the crowd themselves. The only reason many of them were even still alive was because the Dark Guild and others had stepped in, protecting the spectators and shielding them from the stray blasts.
But that wasn’t what anyone was focusing on.
What they were seeing now… was something almost unthinkable.
The great Grand Magus, the person they had all practically worshipped as an unshakable pillar of Alterian, was lying on the ground, completely beaten, pinned there beneath the weight of the Dark Magus himself.
“Hey… shouldn’t we try and stop him?” one voice whispered from the stands.
“Stop him?” another hissed back. “You think someone who could defeat the Grand Magus is going to be stopped by us? Look at him, the Dark Magus doesn’t even seem hurt.”
“But if we don’t… if we just stand here, are we really going to say we watched the Grand Magus die without doing anything?”
“Do you actually want to fight him? Because if you go down there, you’ll be going alone.” The man’s voice cracked. “There are still those students who defeated the Principals, and they’re standing with him. Do you think they’d let you get close?”
“And don’t forget…” another added softly, “many people in this very crowd used Dark Magic. They fought side by side with him. Do you think they’ll just sit there and watch you attack the Dark Magus?”
That simple truth sank into everyone’s minds like ice.
Even if they wanted to move… none of them dared to take a single step forward.
The most stunned of all were the Central Academy students.
“He… he really did it.” Bones’ voice trembled. “That damned student… he really took down the Grand Magus. How is that even possible?”
“We all saw it,” Nannan replied, still staring blankly at the arena. “We saw what happened. The power he used… that wasn’t just magic. It was something else completely.”
“Can you see it now?” George said, folding his arms proudly. “Even someone that strong was using my special affinity! That’s how great it is!”
“I can’t believe we actually went against someone like that,” Kayzel muttered. “No wonder we lost so badly… Now I don’t even feel that bad about it.”
Standing further back, Alen’s eyes stayed locked on Raze and the fallen Grand Magus.
There was relief flickering in them, because Ibarin was still alive.
This was a delicate, razor-thin line to walk. If Raze simply struck Ibarin down now, it would all be over.
And yet, killing him would undo everything.
People didn’t simply believe what they saw, they believed the story behind what they saw. And right now, the people had no context. If Raze killed Ibarin on the spot, they would twist it, invent reasons. They would say the Dark Magus only protected them as part of some long, sinister ploy.
So… it was time for Raze to give them the story himself.
Raze stepped toward Ibarin.
The Grand Magus lay crumpled, his body trembling. He couldn’t even lift his own head. Without mana to support him, he was nothing more than an exhausted old man.
Raze raised a hand, easing the gravity magic that was pinning him down, just on his head. He left the rest of the crushing force in place, but at least now, Ibarin could lift his face to speak.
Raze’s voice rang clear, carried by magic so that every single soul in the arena could hear.
“Right now, my words, and yours, will be projected to everyone here,” Raze said. His gaze was like sharpened obsidian. “There’s a reason I’ve kept you alive.”
A cracked laugh rattled from Ibarin’s throat, flecks of blood staining his teeth.
“A reason? A reason?” he coughed out, his voice raw and hoarse. “We all know why you’ve kept me alive. You want to humiliate me. You want to show the world how much stronger you are, so they’ll fear the Dark Magus!”
His voice rose to a roar, echoing off the shattered arena walls.
“You, Raze Cromwell… you’ve always had a grudge against me! Since the day we met, you couldn’t stop meddling! No matter what I did, you had to interfere, you had to appear, you had to prove yourself, every time!
“And look at what you’ve become… You killed countless people, just to prove you were better than me. And now you stand here to do the same again!”
Ibarin’s voice cracked. He wheezed, coughing violently, blood spattering the stone.
Raze stood still, listening silently, his expression unmoving. Then, slowly, he shook his head.
“I thought as much,” he said quietly. “So this… this is how you truly saw things. This is the mind of someone who clawed their way into the position of Principal, who stole the title of Grand Magus… and still can’t see the truth.”
“LIES!” Ibarin screamed. His whole body jerked against the gravity pinning him, but he couldn’t even lift an arm. “Lies! Do you think anyone will believe scum like you, Dark Magus?”
Raze crouched down. His shadow fell across Ibarin’s bruised, bloodied face.
“Then let me ask you a question,” he said. “And I suggest… for once in your life, you answer honestly.”
The arena went deathly silent. Even the wind seemed to stop moving.
“Where,” Raze said, his voice dropping to a cold whisper, “is Wilton Junior… the Principal of Wilton Academy?”
*****
Author’s Note:
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Chapter 1516: Showing Everyone
In the middle of the commotion, several of the principals who had earlier rushed to aid Ibarin began to stir.
Their bodies ached, magic drained from pushing themselves too far, but their eyes fluttered open one by one. Some were in no state to stand, much less rejoin the battle, while others, despite the wounds streaking across their robes and the blood dripping down their faces, still clutched at their staffs, desperate to channel whatever scraps of mana they had left.
The instinct to help their Grand Magus was strong.
But when they tried to rise, when they tried to push forward into the ruined arena, it was their own students who stopped them.
Hands pressed firmly against their shoulders. Voices whispered urgent pleas.
“Please, don’t.”
“Stay down. It’s over.”
“Don’t get involved…”
Whether out of fear, respect for the duel’s outcome, or simply exhaustion, the students held their teachers back. And perhaps deep down, all of them knew the truth: the fight was already decided.
The Dark Magus had won.
Confusion rippled through the audience as Raze’s voice rang out over the silent battlefield. He wasn’t gloating. He wasn’t demanding surrender. Instead, he asked a question, a question that struck at something many had quietly wondered themselves.
Where was the Wilton principal?
The crowd glanced around uneasily. The absence suddenly stood out like a missing piece of a puzzle.
During the chaos, when the Grand Magus had unleashed his fury, other principals had stepped forward to intervene. But the head of Wilton Academy had not.
Some muttered theories to their neighbors.
“Maybe he was working with the Dark Magus…?”
“But his whole academy in Raze’s hands? That’s too far-fetched.”
“Then where is he? Why wouldn’t he come to help?”
Even as the speculation grew, Ibarin’s strained voice cut through the noise.
“What happened to him?!” he bellowed, blood staining his lips. “Why don’t you tell me, Raze? He hasn’t turned up for days! Maybe you were the one who got rid of him!”
Raze shook his head slowly, his expression unreadable.
“That lie,” he said coldly, “will be your first undoing.”
The way Raze had fought up until this moment, the way he’d used the battlefield, turned Ibarin’s weapons against him, and carefully tested the limits of the breakthrough, none of it had been random. Every movement had been calculated, part of a plan leading to this very moment.
From the beginning, he could have rushed in, tried to cut Ibarin down with brute force. But that wasn’t his goal.
With one hand raised, he pressed his palm to the air. Dark magic spilled out of him, searing across the broken ground.
Lines etched themselves in fire and shadow, crawling outward like living veins. The surface burned and hissed, then cooled, until a vast pattern spread across the arena floor.
When the last trace of magic faded, those watching from above gasped.
“A… a magic circle?”
“What is he trying to do to the Grand Magus?!”
The circle glowed faintly, pulsing like a heartbeat.
From within his cloak, Raze drew forth a crystal, holding it gently between two fingers. With a twist of his will, wind magic lifted it from his hand and carried it down, placing it carefully at one of the circle’s points.
Ibarin’s eyes widened. Recognition flashed instantly.
That crystal. He knew what it was.
“Magic is fascinating, isn’t it?” Raze said, his voice carrying over the hushed crowd. “Especially formations. Circles are more than simple traps or amplifiers, they are memory, structure, and truth bound together.
“Since I returned, I’ve seen how much magic has advanced. And because of that… today, you will all witness something for yourselves. You will see, through his eyes, the truth of what he has done.”
Pinned by the crushing weight of Raze’s gravitational spell, Ibarin couldn’t lift his head high enough to see the completed formation. He could only feel the pressure of it humming beneath him.
“You used this formation once before,” Raze continued, “without ever understanding its true depth. But I’ve studied it. Improved it. Altered it for my purpose.”
His eyes darkened.
“Whatever I ask, you will answer, and the whole world will see through your eyes.”
Dark mana coursed from his hand, feeding into the circle. The crystal pulsed, lines ignited, and a burning mark seared itself across Ibarin’s forehead.
The Grand Magus screamed.
Then a projection burst into the air above them, images forming like a film reel, scenes flickering in and out, all from a first-person view.
The crowd gasped.
They saw Ibarin dragging the Wilton principal into a room, questioning him, pressing him harder and harder. They heard the words exchanged, the denials, the fury. And then they saw it, the flash of power, the crushing end, the principal collapsing lifeless to the floor.
The arena erupted in shocked cries.
The principals who had once stood by Ibarin clenched their robes, eyes filled with pain. They had suspected, but seeing it with their own eyes left them shaken to their core.
Some still tried to deny it.
“This has to be a trick!” one shouted hoarsely. “The Dark Magus is manipulating the images!”
But fewer voices rose in doubt this time.
Because they remembered. They remembered how Ibarin had unleashed his power without hesitation, nearly killing them alongside his enemies. They remembered the fear, the callous disregard.
And above all, they remembered: the Wilton principal had never appeared.
The pieces no longer fit Ibarin’s story.
“Show them,” Raze commanded, “what you gave the students before the event began.”
The images shifted.
Now, they saw Ibarin handing out small pills, his voice echoing in the air: “Take these. You must win at all costs.”
“Did you know what those pills did?” Raze asked.
Another image appeared. A robed figure standing over Ibarin’s desk, sliding the same pills across the surface. His voice whispered in explanation: “They will no longer be able to use magic once they take them.”
The Central students stiffened. The truth slammed into them like a hammer. The pills weren’t for their benefit, they had been used as pawns, their futures sacrificed for his ambition.
Whispers spread, horrified and bitter.
But Raze didn’t stop there.
He pressed again, forcing more mana into the circle. Each question peeled away another layer of Ibarin’s sins.
Scenes flashed, him abusing his title to crush smaller academies that dared rise against him.
Him silencing voices of dissent with cold execution.
Him standing over bodies, blood dripping from his hand, as he struck down those who challenged his corruption.
The longer it played, the quieter the arena became. No one could deny it anymore.
The Grand Magus wasn’t their savior. He was their tyrant.
The spell was draining Raze, eating away at his mana reserves. His breathing grew heavier, his grip on the circle’s flow trembling. He had already shown them enough, enough to damn Ibarin forever.
But there was still one final truth that needed to be revealed.
He clenched his jaw, forcing more power into the crystal.
“Show me,” he demanded, voice sharp, “what you did to Raze Cromwell. And what you did to take the position of principal of Central Academy.”
Author’s Note
For updates on MWS and future works, follow me on my social media below:
Instagram: jksmanga
Patreon*: jksmanga
When news drops about My Vampire System, My Werewolf System, or any other series, you’ll hear it there first. If I’m not too busy, I tend to reply.
