Dark Magus Returns

Chapter 1458: A Sharp Sword

George was not just another student, he was a skilled mage with years of discipline behind him, one who had cultivated a strong affinity with the rare and difficult art of gravitational magic. From the beginning of his training, he had faced a multitude of teachers and countless sparring partners, each encounter meant to refine his control, to shape his unusual affinity into something sharp and practical.

Because the truth was this: no one wanted an affinity that had no practical use. The more unique the magic, the more important it was to prove its worth. Surprisingly, the way to increase the strength of gravitational affinity wasn’t solely through mana refinement or meditation. It was tied directly to the body of the user. To grow stronger, the wielder of such magic had to endure it themselves, using their own affinity on their body, forcing themselves to carry the crushing weight day after day, and undergoing immense physical training to withstand the pressure.

That was why George, unlike most mages, carried such an impressive physique. His body had been tempered under endless strain. He knew firsthand the brutal weight of his own gravity, the crushing burden that could cripple anyone else. He had pushed himself to his limits and beyond, until he had reached what many believed was the peak of his gravitational power. To try and push further was said to be too dangerous, a risk even his hardened body could not endure.

Most mages never dared such things. Mages did not strengthen their bodies, at least, not traditionally. It was not their way. A talented one might try to resist gravitational pressure with spells, using clever manipulation of magic to lessen the weight or to strike the source from above. Yet even teachers, skilled and experienced, had struggled against George’s gravity. Slowed, pinned, forced to stagger under the unseen pressure, every single one of them had felt its effect.

That was why facing Liam was so shocking. He stood there under George’s spell as though nothing pressed against him at all. There was no counterspell, no shimmering aura of resistance, no clever trick of magic. He was simply standing, unbothered, as though George’s gravitational field didn’t exist. That was the first shock. The second came when his magic itself was cut, severed in a way George had never experienced.

It was not uncommon for opponents to escape the range of his gravity, nor for powerful spells to clash and weaken it. But this was different. The connection between George’s mana and his gravitational field had been broken

“Damn it! Damn it, damn it!” George roared, frustration breaking through as his thoughts spiraled. Who was this opponent?

Desperation drove him forward. In one hand, he gathered lightning and hurled it forward in a crackling strike. The bolt cut through the air at blinding speed, but Liam simply swung his sword in an arcing motion. The blade cut the strike apart, dispersing its energy as he continued moving forward unfazed.

George clenched his teeth and immediately conjured a fireball, hurling it with precision. Liam reacted in an instant, twisting his body mid-jump, spinning as his blade sliced cleanly through the roaring flame. The fireball split into two halves, flames parting harmlessly around him.

George refused to stop. He poured spell after spell into the air, cycling through affinity after affinity. Earth, water, fire, lightning, he unleashed them all, each spell large, precise, and versatile. If anyone had been watching just George, they would have been impressed. His mastery over multiple elements was undeniable, his control refined to near perfection.

But the crowd wasn’t talking about George’s skills. Not a single voice praised his versatility. All attention was on Liam. For every spell George cast, Liam cut it down. Every element was split apart, neutralized, destroyed. Step by step, Liam advanced, his blade shining as he closed the distance.

“How is he able to do that? How can a magic swordsman move like that?” voices from the crowd cried out in disbelief.

“My only guess is wind magic,” one spectator theorized quickly. “He must have used a massive amount of wind magic to break free of the gravity earlier, and now he’s coating his sword with it. Look at the speed, he has to be channeling it constantly as he swings.”

“He’s focusing all of his concentration on keeping the wind around his blade, while maintaining those fast movements,” another added. “The control it must take… it’s insane.”

The theory spread quickly, becoming the leading explanation for what they were witnessing. No one could have guessed the truth, that Liam’s weapon was one of the most powerful artifacts in existence. With a single swing, it could cut through anything.

Of course, not everything came from the sword alone. Liam himself was no ordinary fighter. He infused his Qi into every motion, using it to push magic away from his body, to disrupt spells even as his sword severed them. Cutting flames in half was one thing, but deflecting their heat and force required his Qi as well. The two worked together seamlessly, artifact and warrior.

As Liam pressed closer, George’s desperation peaked. He summoned the iron ball from his ring, his final trump card, and hurled it with all his might. Gravity wrapped around it, accelerating it to lightning speed, a deadly projectile meant to crush anything in its path.

But Liam was unshaken. With one downward swing, his blade cleaved the iron ball in half, splitting it cleanly. The two pieces flew past him, missing him completely.

And then, in the blink of an eye, Liam leapt. Qi surged beneath his feet, propelling him forward like a gale of wind. His motion blurred, as though he were carried by magic itself. When he landed, his blade was already at George’s neck.

“It appears,” Liam said, smiling calmly, “that I’ve won this match. Don’t you think?”

The arena fell silent for a beat, before the reality sank in. Once again, just like in the events before, Central Academy had lost.

****

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