Magus Supremacy

It has been three days now since the incident with Mada and Grey at the canteen. During this time, Grey was banned from stepping foot inside, though Ray always managed to sneak back some portion of food for him, even if it meant risking punishment himself.

Grey, however, hardly cared about the food. He poured all of his attention into training. Day after day, he could be found in the training room, swinging his sword through the air over and over again.

His body was always drenched in sweat, his muscles sore, yet he never slowed down. He trained like a man obsessed, his focus unshakable, as though each swing carried the weight of a promise.

Sometimes Thalos joined in as a sparring partner, other times he just sat to the side, wings folded and arms crossed, watching with little interest, as though none of it concerned him.

"You know, what you did a few days ago was quite foolish," Thalos commented dryly.

Grey did not answer. His wooden blade cut through the air again and again, sharper, faster, fiercer.

"I did it for a reason," Grey finally replied, still facing forward. His strikes grew harsher, filled with a violent edge, as if he imagined an enemy standing in front of him.

Thalos tilted his head. "And what was that reason? And who the hell are you even picturing in front of you?" he asked, frowning as the sound of Grey's sword swings grew louder and louder. Sparks of Ki began to flicker from his strikes, each impact ringing out in the training hall like distant thunder.

Grey suddenly stopped. He stood there, chest heaving, sweat dripping down his face, before finally turning to face the gargoyle. His expression was intense, his eyes burning with purpose.

"A wise person once told me to study my opponent. To study him like an open book. That's what I did that day," Grey said slowly. "I needed to know the extent Mada could go, how strong he really was, and what I would need to overcome him.

Now I know—he can already use the second stage of Ki, something I know nothing about." His fists clenched and unclenched, his lips curling into a grin with a dangerous glint in his eyes. "So I've already decided what I must do."

"And what is that?" Thalos asked, one eyebrow rising.

"I need to learn magic again," Grey declared firmly. "I know I have it, I can feel it in me. But when I lost my memories, I lost the knowledge of how to use it. So I'll relearn it from scratch, master it, and then combine it with my Ki.

Only then can I cut down anyone who dares to stand in my path." His voice was calm, but the way he gripped his wooden sword made it clear his resolve was unshakable.

"Good luck with that," Thalos snorted. "In case you forgot, this is a continent ruled by Ki users, not magic practitioners like where you came from. So tell me, how do you intend to relearn something you have no memory of?"

Grey's shoulders sagged as he wiped his face with a towel. "That's why I'm stuck. I wish your master was still alive. Maybe he could have helped. He was a mage after all. If anyone could guide me back to magic, it would have been him.

But now he's gone—no trace, no guidance, nothing." He sat down heavily on the floor, back slumped against the wall, staring at the ceiling as though it might hold the answers.

"Hmm." Thalos mumbled, stroking his chin. And then a thought struck him. Suddenly, his eyes lit up, and he snapped his fingers. "Wait. Right! I remember now."

Grey frowned and sat up straighter. "Remember what?"

"My master always kept a journal," Thalos explained. "He loved documenting his life, his travels, the warriors he encountered, the mysteries he studied. He wrote about everything."

"Like a diary?" Grey asked, his eyes narrowing with curiosity.

"Yes, though less personal and more like a record of his research. He wrote about the people he met, the things he discovered in this continent, even his theories on how to return to his homeland." Thalos nodded slowly.

Grey's face lit up instantly. He jumped to his feet, excitement clear in his voice. "That's perfect! So where is it? Where can I find this journal?"

Thalos looked at him calmly. "That's the problem. I don't know."

Grey froze, his face dropping, and then he glared at the gargoyle. "What do you mean you don't know?"

"I mean exactly that," Thalos said with a shrug. "My master divided his time between two places. Here, in the Aetherian faction that he founded, and also in the Noxarian faction. So the journal could be in either one. Unless we search both, there's no way of knowing where it ended up."

Grey tightened his grip on the towel, his mind already racing.

"You are useless." Grey clicked his tongue as he shook his head, his voice dripping with annoyance.

"Don't blame me, you foolish human. I helped as much as I can." Thalos snapped sharply as he glared at Grey, his eyes flashing with irritation. Grey ignored him, too lost in thought to spare him another glance.

'Where could that journal be? If it's in the Aetherian faction, then I think it should be in the academy, right? But then what if it was in the Noxarian faction? How do I even get there?

Wait! Right! Thalos said he could draw the teleportation circle that could take us there, but I would still need to activate it. But what if it isn't there?

What if I waste my time and return empty handed? No, wait a moment!' Grey's eyes widened as he stopped pacing and stared at the training room's wall as though the answer had been carved into the stone itself.

'I don't think it is in the Aetherian faction, no! I remember the journal I read in that cave that day. He said something about putting his trust in the wrong people.

He wrote that those he was running from had already infiltrated his men, corrupting them until they turned against him. His friends and most trusted allies tried to kill him.

He said the Aetherian faction was infested with demons and evil beings, which means the most logical thing to do is to keep his journal far from them. He wouldn't risk it falling into the wrong hands.

Which means it should be in the Noxarian faction, right? But if that's true… shit! How do I explain my absence? And Thalos' too, if I decide to go there?' Grey thought, his mind racing faster than his pacing feet as he moved back and forth across the room.

Thalos, who had been watching him in silence all this while, finally spoke. "What's wrong? What's going through your mind?" His tone was calmer this time, though a hint of curiosity laced it.

"I was thinking of—" Grey's words were abruptly cut short by a loud, piercing ringing noise that echoed through the corridors.

The familiar sound of the academy bell. It always rang to signal the beginning of their next activity.

"Right! Today is hand-to-hand combat day." Thalos sighed as he clicked his tongue, stretching his arms lazily before standing up.

"Come on, let's hurry over before we get into trouble for being late." Grey muttered quickly as he shook off his thoughts. He picked himself up from the bench, and together the duo dashed out of the room, their footsteps echoing against the stone floor as they made their way toward the hall where the combat class would be held.