Magus Supremacy

As the light settled down, the applicants could finally see what was appearing before them, and they stared at it in confusion. That was because, in front of them all, were hundreds of wooden dolls.

At first glance, the wooden figures resembled ordinary training dummies humanoid in shape, crafted from dense, dark oak polished to a dull sheen. But upon closer inspection, they were anything but ordinary.

Each limb was jointed with thick, reinforced segments, allowing for fluid, lifelike movement.

Intricate carvings of runes and glowing Ki circuits spiraled around their arms and torsos, pulsing faintly with stored energy.

Their eyes—if one could even call them that were hollow sockets filled with a soft, amber light that flickered ominously whenever the dolls activated.

These were no mere dummies. These were advanced, enchanted training constructs. Once triggered, each doll moved with startling speed and unnerving precision.

They could block incoming strikes with smooth, practiced parries, twist their torsos in unnatural ways to evade attacks, and retaliate using preset martial forms embedded deep within their constructs.

What made them truly fearsome, however, was their adaptive defense system. The more you fought them, the more they learned.

Every strike you used, every tactic you favored—it remembered. And the next time, it would counter faster, smarter, and harder.

Currently, the dolls were standing perfectly still, arms at their sides, like sentinels waiting for their next challengers. The silence in the coliseum was tense, the pressure building with each passing second.

And just then, Gunther jumped down from the balcony, which was about four meters high, landing on the coliseum floor smoothly.

He didn't crack the ground, nor did his bones buckle under the impact. He walked forward calmly and flawlessly, like a warrior used to stepping onto battlefields that demanded perfection.

'I really don't need any type of aura sense to tell me that this guy is dangerously strong. Unless I see him fight, I won't know who is stronger between him and Yami,' Grey gulped as he stared at Gunther, whose hands rested on the hilts of his swords, both still strapped to his waist. The man moved with the elegance of a master but carried the intensity of a storm.

"This second assessment is a test of your warrior strength," Gunther said, his voice sharp and clear as he stopped pacing and turned to face the crowd. His eyes scanned the room with piercing focus, as though he were staring into the very souls of the applicants.

"You might be wondering why we haven't responded to whether or not those who took the first assessment lied about their stages," he continued.

"This is because I want to give the liars and deceivers one last chance to retreat now. Because I guarantee you, this second assessment is directly linked to the first."

He gestured toward the rows of wooden dolls.

"You see these dolls? They are wired and tailored to just be a stage above your current level. So, if you lied about your warrior stage and inputted a higher stage thinking you were going to impress us, then I guarantee—you're just fooling yourself."

Gunther paused, letting his words hang heavy in the air. Then he sighed, though his gaze never wavered from the applicants.

"I'm giving you one final opportunity. Leave now, before this assessment starts. Because if I find out you lied on your first assessment... I will make sure to cripple your Dantian so you will never be able to cultivate again."

A tense silence followed his words.

"And I guarantee you this: none of your family members or even your entire clan would dare to attack or cross my path in retaliation. If they try, I will wipe them out from the surface of the continent. Completely."

His threat wasn't a bluff. It carried the weight of his authority and a wave of intense aura that burst out from his body, making the air heavy and thick.

The applicants stared in shock, beads of sweat trickling down their faces. Some took a step back, their knees trembling, while others clenched their fists, unsure whether to stay or run.

The test had begun, and so had the fear.

Grey even found himself gulping five times in a single second due to the intense pressure radiating off of Gunther.

Hearing the threats, some applicants began shuffling out of the coliseum. They bolted straight for the door, which opened up to let them out, as they couldn't bear the suffocating threat nor the immense pressure that Gunther was releasing.

"Sheesh. Mada, your brother is really something else," the tall descendant who went by the name of Rivock muttered.

"Tell me about it. I've hardly ever seen him smile. All he does and cares about is fighting and hunting. Even when he's doing the things he supposedly loves, he still hardly smiles.

Let's just say I have never seen him smile before. And I think he's even in a worse mood today," Mada replied as he kept staring at his brother with narrowed eyes.

"I think that's all the liars, huh?" Gunther muttered, turning toward the dolls before shifting his gaze back to the remaining applicants.

"Now, these are the rules for this assessment. You will be called out one after the other. Each of you will be assigned a doll and also given any low-tier weapon of your choice.

The goal is simple. Fight against the doll. There's a red dot on its chest. You have two minutes to hit that dot using your weapon. If you succeed, the doll will power down and you'll pass the assessment. Do we all understand?" Gunther asked sharply.

The applicants, stiff and tense, all gulped before responding in unison.

"Yes sir!"

"Good. Now for the first fighter…" Gunther muttered before calling forward an applicant. He asked for his choice of weapon, which was quickly brought to him.

Gunther then strode over to one of the dolls, moved behind it, and placed his palm against its back. Instantly, a soft whirring sound accompanied its activation, followed by the creaking of wood and the occasional hiss of steam—revealing the hidden mechanisms within. It appeared to be a fusion of expert craftsmanship and low-level enchantment.

Slowly and deliberately, the doll began striding toward the applicant with a wooden shield on one arm and a sword gripped firmly in the other, while the applicant stood opposite it, holding his spear shakily.

"It says here that this applicant is a stage 1 warrior. Hence, the doll has been programmed to fight at the level of a stage 2 warrior," Gunther announced.

That statement caused Rivock to raise an eyebrow.

"Why is that?" Rivock asked, his voice curious but cautious.

Gunther turned around slowly and stared at him. "I'm not trying to question you or the academy," Rivock added quickly, "but wouldn't it make more sense to program the doll to be on the same level as the challenger?"

"You all really don't know what we're here to do, do you?" Gunther asked, and a small smirk crept onto his otherwise stern face. "Oh, you will be shocked by the level of threat you'll face in the academy. Hence, this assessment. If you can't overcome a threat that's just a stage above you, then you are not fit to be here."

He paused, scanning the room to ensure there were no more objections.

"Now, if there's no other question, I hereby begin this assessment," he declared, swinging his hand downward.

Instantly, the doll burst forward, dashing straight toward the applicant.