Magus Supremacy

As the last man stepped through the swirling gateway, a wave of cold air rushed against Grey's hood, carrying with it the faint scent of iron and smoke.

Beyond the portal stretched a large meadow of grass swaying gently in the wind, its blades dancing in soft waves as far as the eye could see.

The ground here felt untouched by time, yet a faint chill hung in the air as though the land itself was watching.

Two men stood on either side of the portal, arms crossed and postures sharp, as though their presence alone was a barrier.

"Welcome back," one of the men casually greeted. Dame only flashed a small smile at them before moving on.

Grey, ever curious, noticed more portals nearby. Two additional shimmering gateways stood not far apart, making three in total within this expansive meadow. Each pulsed faintly with energy, their edges rippling like liquid mirrors.

Warriors moved in and out with steady rhythm, paying fees to the guards stationed at each portal before vanishing inside with their groups.

Grey caught snippets of hushed conversations, the clinking of coins, and the faint crackle of unstable energy seeping from the portals.

"Let's go," Dame muttered. He scanned the area quickly, then placed his fingers in his mouth and whistled sharply.

Almost instantly, a carriage rolled forward, drawn by sturdy horses whose hooves clattered against the packed earth. The driver, cloaked in faded brown, gripped the reins firmly as though he had long grown used to ferrying dangerous passengers.

One by one, everyone trickled into the carriage. Though it looked far too small at first glance, the inside stretched unnaturally, accommodating them all with surprising ease. Soon enough, the carriage rattled onto the road, leaving the meadow and its portals behind.

They passed a cluster of small buildings draped with purplish banners. Each banner bore the emblem of a pitch-black iris staring outward like an unblinking eye. The sight of it drew Grey's attention, his gaze lingering.

Noticing this, Dame spoke up. "That's the symbol of the Watcher's Clan. A minor group within the Noxarian faction. Surprisingly, they aren't under any major clan's authority."

Grey gave a brief nod as the carriage rolled through a gate and entered broader streets. Their pace was steady, yet Grey leaned back, uninterested in the scenery. With arms crossed, he studied his companions, his mind far from the noise of hooves and wheels.

'I need to meditate more,' he thought, shutting his eyes. Ki swirled within him, pushing against the barrier of his current limit.

'I have an idea for this book. I've hit a standstill in my magic, a complete stop in my martial arts and Ki training. But I think I know a way forward—crafting. If I can forge powerful tools and weapons for myself and future allies, my strength will rise. Crafting will open doors.'

As he meditated, mana from the air flowed into him unconsciously, slipping into his body with ease. He noticed, yet chose not to resist it.

'I also need to repay Dame for getting me this book and a place to crash. Sir Yami said the Noxarian faction was ruthless and unwelcoming, yet Dame… he's different. Or maybe I've only seen one side. Tch. I haven't even met them all. I need to keep calm and tread carefully.'

"We are here!" Dame announced suddenly, breaking Grey's thoughts.

Grey's eyes snapped open as the carriage rolled into a small town. Despite its size, the place pulsed with life. Crowds filled the streets—some with bright smiles, others with grim expressions. Many carried weapons, walking with deliberate caution and confidence.

The carriage slowed to a halt, and everyone began to step out. Grey followed, raising a brow as his gaze swept across the town.

A pitch-black banner caught his attention. Upon it was the image of a colossal fist crashing down from the heavens, striking the earth with such force that cracks and craters spiderwebbed beneath it. The emblem seemed to radiate an unspoken pressure, as though warning all who saw it.

"Welcome fully to the Noxarian faction. Though the major clans are quite far away, this is just a small town where I usually have a little fun," Dame explained, thinking he needed to give some context. Honestly, Grey couldn't care less.

They began walking, and some of the residents, upon seeing Dame, greeted him warmly with smiles on their faces as if he was someone familiar and well-liked.

They passed a few stalls that displayed a variety of goods—pills stacked neatly in jars, robes of different colors hanging in rows, glittering accessories placed on soft fabrics, baskets of fruits glistening under the sunlight, and many other small items that gave the market a lively charm. The air smelled faintly of roasted meat mixed with the sweet tang of freshly cut fruits.

Dame casually strolled over to the stall selling fruits. Without hesitation, he picked up a shiny red apple and swiped it into his hand. He didn't even look back as he walked away, while the stall owner only smiled at him as though it was nothing out of the ordinary.

Grey frowned at the young man, his eyes narrowing in slight disapproval.

"Oh wait!" Dame shouted when he noticed the Supreme Magus staring at him. "I didn't steal it. I'll pay later, I swear. He knows me already. In fact, everybody in this town knows me, and that's why I won't steal or swindle people who are just trying to make ends meet."

"K." Grey simply muttered before turning around and continuing forward without further interest.

'It's like I'm invisible here,' Thalos thought with a scoff as he followed along.

"Uhm, Dame. I'll be heading back to the clan now. You got this," Talon said with a thumbs up before turning away.

"Yeah, me too," Bray added before walking off, leaving only the last companion with Dame, along with the duo of strangers.

"Clan? Which clan are you from?" Grey asked, raising an eyebrow as they walked.

"If I told you, would you tell me who you really are instead of hiding behind a hood?" Dame countered with the same raised brow.

"Fair enough," Grey clicked his tongue in mild amusement.

Soon enough, they arrived in front of a small building that resembled an inn. The wooden sign hanging above the door swung gently in the breeze, creaking as if it had been there for years. Lamps hung by the entrance, faintly glowing even though the daylight still lingered.

Inside, the air smelled faintly of old wood and polished floors. The atmosphere was warm and somewhat cozy, with a few tables arranged near the side for patrons.

Dame walked to the receptionist and flashed her a confident smile.

"Oh, Dame, it's you," the woman greeted warmly, returning his smile.

"Hey, my love," Dame grinned. "Can I get a room for two? They'll be staying for a week."

"Sure." The receptionist quickly jotted something down in her ledger before holding out her palm.

Dame sighed, reached into his pocket, and pulled out a single gold coin, dropping it into her hand.

"Great. Here is your room key," the woman said as she passed it to him.

"Thank you." Dame took the key, gave her another grin, and walked off.

Grey and Thalos both sighed in unison before following his lead. Finnor—Finn for short—trailed behind them quietly, keeping to the rear as the group made their way toward Grey and Thalos' new room.