Magus Supremacy

"Guys! I'm home," Grey announced as he stepped through the front door, a tired smile tugging at his lips.

"Hey, honey. Welcome back! How was training today?" Clarice called out from the kitchen, the sound of bubbling stew and clinking pots filling the air.

"Well, training was the same," Grey shrugged, slinging his bag onto the couch. "Plenty of attempts and plenty of failures. So... same story, different day."

"Aww, sorry, my love," Clarice cooed, still busy with whatever she was cooking.

"Brother Grey!" Millie squealed as she sprinted from the hallway. Grey knelt down with open arms and caught her mid-air, lifting her easily as she giggled.

"Welcome back!"

"Thanks, my cutie pie," Grey replied warmly, pinching her cheeks playfully. "You've grown chubbier, haven't you?"

"Yayy! The most loved human in the family is back," Finral scoffed sarcastically as he strolled toward the kitchen.

"Hey, grumpy uncle. How was your day?" Grey asked with a smirk as he noticed Finral spin around, a visible vein throbbing on his forehead.

"Who are you calling grumpy?"

"Oh, I'm so scared," Grey said dramatically, waving his hand with mock terror. "Relax. I'm just messing with you. Pipe your horse down."

"Don't annoy me, you f*cking son of a bitch!" Finral snapped.

"Finral! Language!" Clarice barked from the kitchen.

"Tsk!" Finral scoffed and stomped away to his room, muttering under his breath.

"Anyway… allow me to go freshen up," Grey said as he disappeared down the hallway toward his room.

"Should I come and help you?" Vanessa called out teasingly, a cheeky grin spreading across her face.

"No!" Grey shouted instantly, slamming the door shut behind him.

"Tsk! He's so unromantic," Vanessa muttered and walked off with a pout.

A few hours later, the aroma of food filled the house. Dinner was ready, and everyone gathered around the table—everyone except Yami, of course, who was presumably off in his usual private battle against spicy food.

"So… were you able to perfect the Cyclone Kick?" Clarice asked, watching as Grey shoveled food into his mouth like he hadn't eaten in days.

"Partly," Grey mumbled, his mouth still half-full.

"What do you mean by partly?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Well…" Grey swallowed, then took a large gulp of water. "Out of ten tries, I managed to pull it off three times."

"Tsk. As expected. A weakling," Finral muttered, casually digging into his food.

Grey's expression darkened. His hands clenched into fists. "What did you just say?"

"I said what I said," Finral replied, meeting his glare. "It only took me a week and a half to master that technique. You've been struggling with it for a whole month."

"Try wearing a 200-kilogram training weight that randomly shifts its gravity levels, then come back and talk!" Grey snapped.

"As always—excuses," Finral said with a dismissive wave.

"You—!"

"Enough, the both of you!" Clarice cut in sharply before things could escalate. "This is called the dinner table, not a battlefield."

"He started it!" Grey and Finral chorused at once.

"I don't want to hear it!" Clarice slammed her fork down. "Now, I want you both to shove that food down your mouth holes—otherwise, I'll shove it down your arseholes!"

"That doesn't even make sense," Finral muttered.

"Yes, and I already regret saying that," Clarice sighed, rubbing her forehead. Everyone went quiet after that, silently focusing on their food.

Just then, the front door creaked open, and Yami sauntered in.

"That dump was quite weak… but I still won the battle," he said with a chuckle, casually patting his stomach. He looked around, sensing the tense mood. "Huh? What happened? Who died?"

"My appetite," Vanessa grumbled with a scowl.

Yami ignored the comment and grabbed a plate, dishing out food like he hadn't eaten in a week.

"So… I was thinking," he said after a few bites, chewing slowly.

"What are you thinking of?" Clarice asked immediately, narrowing her eyes. "And it better be reasonable, otherwise…"

"Sheesh. What's gotten you so riled up?" Yami muttered. "Anyway, I was thinking of enrolling Finral in Aetherian Academy soon."

"Wait, what?! Why is that?" Finral asked, genuine shock etched on his face.

"Well, I can't really teach you everything. But if you head off to the academy, you'll be able to learn more versatile fighting skills and other clan combat styles, just in case," Yami replied.

"That makes sense," Clarice muttered as she turned to look at Finral. "So… what's your decision?"

"Well, I don't actually care. As long as I'm far away from that crimson-haired bad luck!" Finral said, folding his arms defiantly.

"Who the hell are you calling a bad luck?!" Grey snapped, his eyes narrowing dangerously.

"Did I mention any names?" Finral asked coolly, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, who else here has red hair?" Grey retorted as he shot out of his seat, fists clenched. All Yami could do was facepalm himself in exasperation.

"Well, maybe it was you I was referring to. Do your worst," Finral challenged, rising from his seat with a calm smirk.

"That does it with you!" Grey roared, crouching low as if about to lunge forward, while Finral took a ready stance, prepared for whatever might come.

Grey was just about to make his move when—

Knock! Knock! Knock!

A loud knock on the door echoed through the house, halting everything. The tension shifted instantly as everyone turned, raising their eyebrows and exchanging confused glances.

"Was anyone expecting a visitor?" Yami asked, glancing around the table.

"What kind of question is that? You do know we rarely have visitors," Clarice replied dryly.

"What are you saying, Mum? We don't even have any visitors—ever," Vanessa added, standing up from her seat.

"Well then… who could it be?" Yami asked again, this time with a raised eyebrow, his tone cautious.

Knock! Knock! Knock!

The loud knocking came again, more urgent this time.

"I'll go check," Finral said and began striding toward the door.

"Wait! What if it's danger?" Clarice asked, quickly reaching out a hand to stop him—but she was too late.

"Relax. Can anything bad possibly happen? Who would want to ha—" Finral trailed off as he reached for the door, his hand hovering over the handle.

Bang!

The door exploded inward, slamming straight into Finral with brutal force. The impact hurled him across the room and onto the dining table, shattering it beneath him. The entire family immediately sprang into alert mode, eyes wide and muscles tensed.

Several men dressed in yellow attire began filing into the room. One of them, who stood slightly ahead of the others, wore a yellow bandana and quickly scanned the room.

"We are here to arrest the red-haired individual suspected of being a member of the Red Brigade," the man announced loudly. "Anyone who tries to interfere will face the full wrath of the Midnight Sun Clan!"

"Oh, look! Something bad," Grey muttered, his throat dry as he stared at the imposing figures before him. He gulped audibly.