SUPREME ARCH-MAGUS

Chapter 987: New Challange!

The noon sun hung like a blazing coin above the Salt Region as a chariot, adorned with black-and-gold banners, thundered through the main avenue leading to the White family estate.

Behind it rode a line of well-dressed attendants, warriors, and servants, all marching with unflinching discipline. At the heart of the procession sat Phillip Salt, the young heir returned from the brink of death, now reborn with a fire in his eyes that even the heavens dared not ignore.

The people of the city gawked, pointing and whispering as the entourage passed. Some bowed out of habit, others watched with skepticism. The Salt family had long been seen as faltering, and Phillip’s past life—before the miracle of his return—was the story of weakness, illness, and cowardice.

Now, the same Phillip carried the aura of a monarch.

As the chariot neared the gates of the White family manor, the guards leapt to attention. One of them rushed inside to inform the elders.

White Manor, vast and pristine like a sacred temple, soon trembled with murmurs. Elders convened, servants peeked from corners, and the hall of decision was swiftly prepared.

Phillip stepped down from the chariot in a regal black robe embroidered with golden waves and phoenix flame motifs. He held a scroll in his hand—a formal challenge from Lily White herself.

The guards parted, and Phillip marched forward, flanked by his loyal servants.

Inside the grand greeting hall, members of the White family had assembled in haste. Patriarch Lian White stood near the dais, stroking his beard. Elder cousins and advisors sat around, their faces confused, some even sneering. Only Lady White, Lily’s mother, sat still, her expression unreadable.

Phillip walked to the center and unrolled the scroll.

“I come with respect,” he began, his voice steady but thunderous, “to answer the challenge issued to me by Lady Lily White. Here is the letter she sent me. I’ve come, as she requested, to prove my worth.”

A hush swept through the room.

Lily, who had just entered from an upper corridor, froze mid-step. Her lilac battle robe fluttered with her movement. Her eyes widened, not in fear, but disbelief. The Phillip she remembered was a trembling youth, barely daring to look her in the eye. Now, he met her gaze with full intent, unwavering.

She descended the steps gracefully and stopped beside her mother.

“It was only a joke,” she said, voice sharp, concealing her surprise. “I never thought you’d have the spine to show up.”

Phillip offered her a faint smile.

“Then I suppose fate found it amusing. Because I’m here. And I don’t joke about promises or duels.”

Lady White raised her hand, silencing the rising whispers among the elders. She then leaned forward and whispered into Phillip’s ear, her words carefully hidden from the others.

“Don’t humiliate her. She was forced into this path. Speak gently. She needs strength, not enemies.”

Phillip tilted his head slightly in acknowledgment but said nothing. He turned and followed Lily into a more private hall at the side of the estate—a place where discussions of pride, fate, and war had once been held.

The moment they were alone, Lily turned to him, eyes aflame.

“You think showing up here with a fancy robe and servants makes you brave? You were weak. You begged me to break off our engagement before. What’s changed?”

Phillip chuckled, folding his arms.

“You’ve sharpened your tongue, Lady White. But perhaps your memory has dulled. I did ask you to break it. Not because I feared you—but because I feared becoming a burden to you.”

Lily frowned, lips parting to retort, but Phillip raised a hand.

“Now, the burden is gone. I am what I choose to be. And you, Lily, don’t get to define my worth anymore.”

Her glare softened, but her pride remained intact.

“Then prove it. Not with words—but with a miracle.”

She turned and picked a jade scroll from the table. Unrolling it, she pointed to the name written in bold strokes—Manuka Lan.

“She is the only daughter of Lan family. And they have the “Sword in Heart comprehension Manual.” She’s the only one allowed to hold it for now except for the two old grand parents. If you want to win this duel—or this engagement—you’ll need to make her acknowledge you. She won’t submit easily. But make her handover the manual to you.”

Phillip narrowed his eyes.

“Then she shall be my next lesson.”

Lily raised her brow. “You talk like a teacher now?”

“I talk like someone who has walked through death and returned with eyes that see beyond illusion.”

Lily took a step closer, voice low.

“You’ve changed, Phillip Salt. But don’t mistake your return for supremacy. The White family won’t be conquered by charm.”

He gave a half-smile.

“Good. I’m not here to conquer. I’m here to remind you all who I really am. The man you underestimated—the man you left to rot.”

She froze at that last sentence, visibly shaken for the first time.

Silence lingered, heavy like a hanging sword.

Finally, Lily sighed.

“Tomorrow morning. At the River Lotus Arena. That’s where Manuka trains. Impress her there, if you can.”

“I will,” Phillip replied simply.

As he turned to leave, Lily’s voice called out once more.

“And Phillip… I don’t know what’s gotten into you. But I hope it stays. I’d rather hate a strong man than pity a weak one.”

Phillip paused, glanced back, and nodded.

“Then hate me as much as you like. I’ll still win.”

And with that, he stepped out of the hall, leaving Lily White standing still—eyes narrowed, heart conflicted.

Outside, his attendants fell in behind him as he mounted the black-gold chariot once more. As the wheels turned and the city streets opened before him, the wind carried the whispers:

Phillip Salt has returned—and the White family will never be the same again.

–

The journey back to Salt Manor was lined with silence.

Phillip—once Kent—rode with a steady gaze, his posture relaxed but not indifferent. The servants behind him, many of whom had mocked his previous self, now kept their heads down in respectful silence.

His confrontation with the White family and Lily’s provocation had sparked new fires in him. Fires not of rage or revenge, but of purpose. The road home was not long, yet heavy with anticipation.

As the grand gates of Salt Manor creaked open, the sky had turned a dull gold, streaked with pinks of a setting sun.

He stepped into the central courtyard. Maids paused mid-step. Young disciples peered from behind corners. News traveled faster than intention, and the Salt family already knew he had visited the White estate.

–

Tq