Magus Supremacy Nove Chapter 422: Strong Attack But Weak Defense!

Chapter 422: Strong Attack But Weak Defense!

Chapter 422

"Damn it! I’m dead," he gulped as his gaze fell on his one mangled arm, then flicked back to the looming gargoyles.

Boom!

One of the gargoyles bolted toward Grey, giving him no ti to process what was happening. All he could see was a massive stone sword crashing down toward his head.

"Fuck!" Grey cursed as he leapt back with every ounce of strength he had left, narrowly avoiding the weapon. The sword smashed into the ground, tearing it open like a cracked shell, chunks of earth flying in every direction.

Grey swallowed hard, eyes wide as he took in the destruction the blade had caused. Then his gaze shifted briefly to his own sword. It looked pitiful in comparison. But there was no ti to think because two more gargoyles appeared before him in a blink.

One lunged, thrusting a jagged stone spear toward his abdon. The other swung a hefty shield toward his face with terrifying force.

Instinct kicked in.

Grey lifted his foot and hamred it down on the incoming spear, pinning it to the ground with a crunch that split the floor beneath him. But before he could react, the shield slamd into his body, sending him hurtling through the air.

Blood sprayed from his mouth as his body bounced and tumbled along the ground like a broken puppet. His already mangled arm twisted unnaturally, cracking further from the impact. A sharp groan escaped his throat, raw with pain.

"Curse it..." he growled, stabbing his sword into the ground and using it to skid to a shaky stop. Just in ti.

Another gargoyle appeared directly in front of him, its massive sword already in motion, falling fast toward his skull.

Swirling his Ki into his one good arm, Grey brought his sword up in a desperate block. The blades collided with a deafening clang that echoed through the hall. Pain shot through his wrist and shoulder like fire.

"Arghh!" he scread as he twisted the sword, managing to push back the attack. He flipped his weapon and slamd it forward, launching a counterattack.

The gargoyle leapt back, then retaliated, smashing its sword against Grey’s once more. The force sent his blade crashing into the ground.

Before he could recover, another gargoyle appeared, and a dull, thunderous kick smashed into his ribs. His body was sent flying yet again, this ti with a sickening crack and blood spurting from his nostrils. His nose was broken now too.

He tumbled across the floor like a ragdoll discarded by a cruel child. His vision blurred around the edges, black creeping in.

Through his fading sight, he saw all twelve gargoyles advancing in formation, relentless. The giant double doors now lood in the distance—at least a dozen ters away, far out of reach.

"I... I... I will ne... never give up. Never! I will co out of this alive!" Grey roared to himself, his voice trembling but full of fire.

He pushed himself up shakily, defiant even as blood dripped from his face. Gritting his teeth, he grabbed his sword with his good hand and held it tightly, knuckles pale.

Just in ti.

Another gargoyle closed in, its weapon already raised. Its blade ca crashing down, but Grey pivoted sharply on one foot and swung his leg upward, kicking the creature square in the chest.

It skidded back a few feet from the impact, its feet dragging against the polished floor. A jolt of pain lanced through Grey’s leg from the strike, but he endured it.

Then ca the sound. A soft swoosh, like wind slicing through silence.

Grey spun around.

A dozen arrows were heading straight for him.

"Archers too?!" he shouted, disbelief in his voice. He began spinning his sword with frantic precision, the blade becoming a blur of motion. One by one, arrows collided with steel and clattered harmlessly to the ground.

His heart pounded like a war drum. His lungs burned. Every part of him scread in agony.

But still he stood.

Another spear shot for his face, almost invisible in its speed. Reacting on instinct alone, Grey brought his sword up again, barely catching the attack. The force drove him back, boots scraping against the floor as he slid several feet, teeth clenched tight.

But he didn’t fall.

Not this ti.

And despite the blood, the pain, and the overwhelming odds, a single, stubborn thought burned behind his eyes:

I will not die here.

’Damn it! Doing everything with a single hand is exhausting. My one good arm is almost at its limit, damn it,’ Grey thought, just as he saw another shield rushing toward his face.

He ducked under it by a hair’s breadth and countered with a sharp slash, driving his sword forward into the attacking gargoyle’s chest. The mont his blade made contact, the creature crumbled into pieces, collapsing into a pile of rubble at his feet.

Grey paused, blinking rapidly at what he saw.

’Their attacks are strong... but their defenses? Not so much,’ he mused silently, just as two more sword slashes ca hurtling toward him. He leapt back in ti, narrowly avoiding both blades.

"Alright then. One down, eleven more to go!" he roared, planting his feet and then launching himself forward. No more playing defense. It was ti to fight on his own terms.

Suddenly, twenty arrows shot into the air, each one arching downward with perfect precision. Grey didn’t hesitate. He vaulted high, sword in hand, centering his breath in the air.

"Breathing Technique: First Formation," he whispered.

A faint stream of invisible steam escaped his nostrils, curling into the air. In one smooth motion, he aid his sword and thrust it forward.

"Wind Gust."

A blast of wind erupted from the strike, howling with a sharp, piercing force as it t the arrows. The gust slamd into them mid-air, scattering the projectiles like brittle leaves.

Before he could gather himself, a stone chain snaked through the air and coiled tightly around his body. It yanked him down like a rag doll, slamming him hard into the ground with a bone-rattling bang. Dust and debris flew everywhere.

"Shit, shit, shit!" Grey groaned, coughing blood as he hit the floor. His vision spun. He blinked rapidly—just in ti to see one of the gargoyles leaping into the air, weapon raised, about to bring it down on him like a hamr from the heavens.

"Co on!" he shouted, forcing himself to roll aside at the last second. The gargoyle smashed into the ground where he’d been lying, the floor cracking beneath its weight, spiderweb fissures spreading in all directions.

Grey tried to stand, but sothing tugged at his leg. Looking down, he saw another chain snaking up from the floor, binding him again. His eyes flicked upward—twenty more arrows were now flying his way.

"Alright, screw this," he muttered. With a surge of determination, he leaned backward until his head was nearly level with the floor. The arrows zipped past, skimming just inches above his face before embedding into the wall behind him.

’I need to take out those archers,’ he thought. ’And I can’t do that if I’m stuck here getting chained every other second.’

A massive blade ca at him from below.

In a single, fluid movent, he crouched low and reached for the straps around his ankles. With a tug, the weighted bands around his feet clattered to the ground.

Another strike ca but this ti horizontal. Grey planted his hand on the ground and flipped backward, barely avoiding the blade as it carved through where he had been.

In the sa motion, he drove his foot into the attacking gargoyle’s chin. Its head snapped off, flying through the air before it crashed into the wall with a dull thud.

He landed lightly on his feet, eyes sharp, and quickly unstrapped the weights on his wrist as well. His body felt light. Free.

A grin spread across his face.

"Ten more to go."

BANG!

He was gone in a blur.

Ki surged around his feet, leaving ripples in the air as he moved faster than the eye could follow. In the blink of an eye, he appeared behind the four archers standing at the back of the formation. His sword glinted in the dim light as it moved—once, twice, three tis, four.

Heads rolled.

Stone bodies crumbled.

"Six more to go," he muttered, breathing harder now.

A pair of chains ca flying at his face. He dipped to the left, then to the right, dodging every one of them with sharp footwork. Then he leapt into the air again, spinning like a drill.

The air around him swirled.

Wind gathered with every rotation, screaming in his ears. He spotted more chains trying to catch him mid-spin, but his sword sliced through them as they approached.

"Cyclone Fang Kick!"

With a final spin, Grey unleashed a brutal roundhouse kick into the sky. A wave of wind blasted outward, a violent current that howled like a beast.

The force slamd into the remaining gargoyles, lifting them off the ground and hurling them into the wall with earth-shattering impact. Their stone bodies crumbled to dust on impact.

Silence.

Grey dropped to his knees, chest heaving. His vision blurred around the edges. His head spun slightly from blood loss and exhaustion.

"I... I... I did it," he croaked. Pain seared through every inch of his body, but especially his mangled arm, which throbbed like fire.

"And with a single arm, no less." He let out a tired, pained chuckle and turned his gaze toward the double doors behind him.