Magus Supremacy

A Month Later!

Bam!

The mountain quaked as Grey could be seen training alone. Yami was nowhere in sight. On his shirtless body, the 200 kg weight clung tightly as he struggled to execute the Cyclone Fanged Kick.

Out of ten tries, he managed to perform it perfectly only twice. His body was drenched in sweat, the massive weights pressing down on him as he continued pushing past his limits.

This had been his daily routine for the past month. Ever since Yami handed him the weights, Grey had followed his instructions without question, wearing them at all times. Whether in bed, in the toilet, during meals, or while training, the weights never left his body.

Everywhere he went, they accompanied him like a second skin. At first, it was brutal. No, mountainously brutal. Breathing alone felt impossible, not to talk of walking.

Two weeks in, he had finally adapted enough to breathe and walk with relative ease. But training? That remained just as grueling and strenuous as the day he first strapped the weights on.

He used to do seventy push-ups without breaking a sweat. Now, he could barely crank out twenty before crashing into the ground, completely drained.

His body ached, muscles groaned, and legs trembled violently—but still, he refused to stop. Against all odds, he pushed through, his will burning hotter than the sun above.

Now, he could go through his routines better. His timing while using the Triple Threat Technique (Triple T) had never been sharper.

His roundhouse kick had become noticeably more destructive, powerful enough to split small boulders on impact. As for the Cyclone Kick? It remained a wild card. One moment, he executed it flawlessly; the next, he was completely off. And nothing frustrated him more.

The weights on his body made the technique unpredictable. Their pressure constantly shifted his balance, making precision difficult.

Yami, now back at the dojo, had left him with a single instruction: to continue training on his own until he mastered the Cyclone Kick perfectly. Only then would he resume training Grey again.

And so, our supreme Yun warrior could be seen every single day on the mountain, training his arse off while a monstrous amount of weight pressed down on him like gravity from a different realm.

"You know, sometimes I feel like Yami lied to me," Grey muttered to himself as he slumped onto the bare ground. His chest heaved in and out, each breath like a hammer to his lungs as he wiped his sweat-drenched body with the edge of his sleeve.

"It honestly feels like these weights increase every two weeks or something. Because tell me why I could do eighty push-ups yesterday and now I can barely manage seventy today?"

He exhaled in exasperation and leaned his head back.

"I think they're designed to increase in weight the moment the wearer starts getting used to them. Sneaky old man." He chuckled dryly and shook his head, his crimson hair fluttering in the breeze like dancing flames.

"For two months now, I haven't gone into town. I feel like a caveman… or some poor soul locked in a cage, stuck in an endless cycle."

He sighed deeply, resting his forearm across his knees.

"Training every single day, eating, and chatting with the…" He paused. "Wait. What's even their last name again? I don't think I ever asked. I've been living with them for months and I don't even know their surname."

Grey groaned and facepalmed himself.

Not only was his training torturous, even his body had turned into something different—something tougher. His muscles had become denser, his abs tighter, his calves and chest firmer than ever before.

He wasn't just training. He was evolving.

It felt like his body had been carved by the Greek gods. Although the civilians of the Vayun continent were naturally fit and well-trained, Grey's physique was now on an entirely different level.

His body was so impeccably defined that if he were to unbutton his shirt in the presence of girls, they would likely collapse at the mere sight of it. This wasn't an exaggeration and it had already been demonstrated by Vanessa, who was now practically glued to Grey at every opportunity.

She constantly ran her fingers across his chest, his arms, and even his abs, making him feel awkward and uncomfortable each time. Even Finral had grown visibly envious of Grey's sculpted form, so much so that he now attacked Grey with both words and fists whenever the chance presented itself.

"I can't really blame them," Grey muttered, flexing his biceps casually. "After what happened in the town a month ago, it makes sense to keep a low profile and avoid drawing unnecessary attention. I'm still in the process of growing stronger... I need to stay under the radar until I'm confident enough to protect myself."

With that, he closed his eyes and directed his senses inward to feel his Dantian.

'At least this baby is slowly increasing,' he mused with a small smile.

Over the past month, his Dantian had expanded from the size of a baby's fist to that of a small soccer ball. However, it had now reached its limit and any attempt to push it further would unleash unbearable pain.

The last time he tried to go beyond his current stage, the consequences had been severe. He could barely breathe or move for hours.

It had taken Yami's intervention to stabilize him, and the man had given him a stern warning afterward: under no circumstances was he to forcefully expand his Dantian again until he advanced into the next stage.

"Three months on this continent, and I still can't remember who I am…" Grey sighed as he stood up and glanced around the serene mountain.

He spotted his shirt nearby and strode over to pick it up.

"I guess I'll just continue being Grey. Damn… I really need to ask for their family name," he muttered, facepalming himself as he calmly put his shirt back on and slung his backpack over his shoulder.

"It's getting late already. I better head back," he added as he began the slow, painful descent down the mountain path and back to the place he now called home.

---

In an undisclosed location, a man dressed entirely in yellow stood before another man wearing a yellow mask.

"Sir, we've finally gathered intel on the family that took in the red-haired boy," Sunny reported, bowing respectfully before the masked figure.

"It's about time. I gave you that task weeks ago, and you're only now returning with results?" the masked man snapped. "Anyway, who are they?"

"They're the Cromwell family, sir. A small family that lives alone across the mountains. The head of the family is a martial artist who runs a dojo and trains a few students," Sunny replied.

'The Cromwell family?' the masked man thought, a deep frown forming beneath his mask. 'Why does that name sound familiar? Who are they, and why would they risk harboring a supposed terrorist?'

"So, what now, sir?" Sunny asked cautiously.

"Gather a hundred men. We're storming that place," the masked man ordered.

"On what grounds, sir? Forgive me, I'm not trying to question your decision, but the Midnight Sun doesn't operate like that. We are supposed to uphold the law," Sunny said, bowing deeper, sweat beginning to bead on his forehead.

"Take the red-haired boy. Since your incompetence allowed the main terrorist to escape last time, we'll make do with him. Anyone who dares to obstruct your mission—bring them down without hesitation," the masked man said with chilling authority.

"Understood, sir. When do we begin?" Sunny asked, voice low and tense.

"Now. Go immediately. And one more thing—if you fail again, don't bother returning to this clan," the masked man said coldly.

Sunny's eyes widened as he stood and gave a crisp salute before quickly exiting the room.

'The Cromwell family, huh? Well then, brace yourselves... because you've just made yourselves a target,' the masked man thought, a twisted chuckle rising from his throat.

__

{A/N}

Hey Magus Legion! It's finally here🥳 my birthday guys! And as promised, the two new books: The Gamer's POV and The First Mythical Dragon has just been published with 5 chapters each.

And for Magus Supremacy, I'm dropping 6 chapters for you all. Please enjoy.