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Magus Reborn Chapter 276
🕑 Added 2025-09-11 05:14:09 +0000 UTCChapter 276
William Blackwood sat high in the gallery, the expensive oak railing pressing against his palms as his gaze fixed on the lone figure standing at the heart of the assembly hall. From this height, Arzan looked almost small—surrounded by chairs and hungry-eyed nobles looking for weakness—but well, they were not going to find anything. William knew better by now.
For most of the session, he had been silent, his face composed into the practiced mask of a Duke. But beneath the surface, something unfamiliar stirred. It gnawed at him first, this strange warmth in his chest, until he recognized it for what it was: pride. A feeling he was not accustomed to, especially rarer to still grant another man.
Arzan stood there as if carved from black marble, his rebuttals were as sharp as a shard of glass. Obviously William had prepared him—run through questions, rehearsed arguments, drilled possible traps. Yet the young Count had surpassed all of it. Not once did his voice waver under the scrutiny of the gathered lords. Instead, he turned the tide, bending the Assembly with the ease of a seasoned player. William watched, both impressed and unsettled, as Arzan steered the conversation, weaving his brother’s shadow into every accusation until the dead man bore the brunt of their ire. It was a clever tactic, because dead men couldn’t defend themselves, and the truth—even half-revealed—was stronger than conjecture.
The nobles leaned forward, clearly hooked by where it was all heading. Their reactions said that Arzan’s narrative had sunk in claws deep. William could see it. The Assembly itself was shifting, and their opinion was slowly but inexorably sliding into Arzan’s favor.
And then came the silhouette. Not the boy he had spoken to in his estate months ago, but the outline of something greater. A man who might one day lead not merely with strength, but with vision. Someone who could turn this kingdom into more than a fractious empire clawing for power—into a country that cared. William’s lips tightened, but his chest grew heavier.
He knew Arzan already had what most men could only dream of: the bloodline of a Duke, the raw brilliance of a mage who had already carved his name into history. And now, the Assembly itself seemed to taste the inevitability of his ascent.
Yet William’s eyes narrowed as the discussion shifted. He knew what was coming. The matter of the Enforcers. The nobles’ questions would sharpen there, like spears finding gaps in armor. Arzan could parry most blades, but this? Even William was uncertain. The Enforcers were no mere soldiers, it would be a hard task to hide that. And how Arzan handled that would reveal whether this rising star could truly seize it all, or if he would stumble where even the mighty faltered.
Because the moment the words left Queen Regina’s lips, the Assembly fractured. Voices broke into a hundred directions, the marble chamber that usually thrummed with restrained arrogance now echoing with disbelief and sharp-edged fear.
William Blackwood felt it ripple through the tiers of nobles like a shockwave—chairs scraped back, silk sleeves whipped as men and women half-rose, faces drained of color. Even the two Princes stared wide-eyed at Arzan as if seeing him for the first time. Around William, fellow Dukes traded hurried whispers, their rings clinking as hands tightened on the railings before them.
It wasn’t a jest. No one in the hall dared believe it was. Queen Regina does not jest, William thought grimly. She was many things—cold, calculating, merciless—but never a fool who wasted words.
Even he, who prided himself on knowing the depths of most currents beneath this kingdom, had been blindsided when the truth surfaced. The very concept was unthinkable. To imagine that such a thing could be done—shaping men into something beyond Knights, beyond common men—was the kind of madness spoken in taverns, not in a royal Assembly. Not in front of every noble of worth in the realm.
And yet, here they all sat.
Slowly, the roar of the chamber dulled, nobles’ voices dying like flames smothered by a tide. All eyes turned to the queen where she sat upon her chair, gaze unblinking, the weight of her authority pressing the chamber into silence. She had asked her question. Now, she waited.
Arzan did not rush. That was his first victory. Where another man might stumble, he let the pause stretch, let the nobles grow more curious. William’s hand curled into a fist against the railing, a slow satisfaction building. Good. He’s thinking.
After a good ten minutes, the man spoke. “First of all, let me clarify some things.” He looked at King Sullivan and back at Queen Regina. “I did not devise this method. I merely borrowed it and applied it to my Knights.”
More people started to talk—whispers spread. William’s lips quirked. To admit borrowing rather than claiming invention, it disarmed suspicion.
“Second,” Arzan continued, voice rising above the echoes, “the method does not make just any man into an Enforcer. You still require the two mana organs—the heart and the mind. And even then, the training is brutal, near-fatal, before one can even attempt the transformation.”
The words struck like steel on stone. For a heartbeat, the nobles held their tongues, weighing the risk. Then Duke Renard surged to his feet, his embroidered cloak swooshing backwards.
“Borrowed from whom?” Renard spat. “Do you mean to tell us there are other kingdoms—other powers—who command the Enforcers?”
Arzan’s eyes swept the Assembly. “No,” he said. “Not kingdoms. The ones I borrowed the method from are small powers, scattered, hardly worthy of anyone’s time. Aside from their knowledge of the Enforcers’ path, they are little more than rabble. Numerous, yes. But strength?” He shook his head once. “They lack it. And I took what was useful.”
The Assembly stirred, nobles exchanging wary looks. Fear and relief warred on their faces. Small powers meant no rival kingdom had this secret… but it also meant such a power was already there, but they hadn't known.
From his high seat, William exhaled slowly, eyes narrowing. Arzan had given them just enough truth to anchor their fear, and just enough dismissal to keep them from frenzy. It was dangerous, clever, and entirely in character.
But William also knew this was far from over.
The whispers rose again, hissing through the Assembly. Nobles leaned across rows, trading hurried speculation, eyes darting between Arzan and the queen. The word numerous clung to them like a curse, refusing to be shaken loose.
And then, against all expectations, the King himself spoke.
“What,” King Sullivan said. “do you mean by numerous, Count Arzan?”
“What I’m saying is very simple, Your Majesty. Enforcers have been around the world for a while, in different communities across distant lands. Especially in places where mana runs thin, where Mages are naturally weak or in mana deserts where mana dies altogether. Those people had to find another way to survive. And when survival is at stake, humans are… very creative. I simply borrowed those ideas.”
A few nobles shifted uncomfortably at his words.
Then Queen Regina’s voice cut through the chamber. “That does not explain,” she said, “why you have kept this from the kingdom.”
Her gaze sharpened, daring him to falter.
Arzan inclined his head slightly, but when he opened his voice, another firm response came, “I believe it is self-explanatory. These are borrowed ideas. Enforcers are still experimental under my command. Those communities I spoke of—yes, they’ve practiced for centuries. But I have not. If something went wrong, if I pushed too far and shattered the lives of capable men and women of this kingdom, the loss would be unforgivable. That is why I kept it to myself. If I truly wanted to hide them, I would have denied their existence even today.”
From his vantage point above, William let out a slow breath. That… was a damned good answer. He would give Arzan that much. But he also knew the man was lying through his teeth. If the method carried such risk, the dangers would have surfaced already. Arzan wasn’t hiding to protect the kingdom. He was keeping the leash in his own hand.
Still, it worked. For now, the wolves would circle warily instead of tearing for the throat. Even Regina had chosen to step back, her silence an acknowledgment that further pressing would cost her more than she could gain.
But William’s eyes scanned the rows of nobles, and he saw the hunger burning there still. This answer might have bought Arzan time, but not peace. The barrage of questions about the Enforcers would not end today. If anything, this was just the beginning.
William’s prediction proved right.
One after another, nobles rose from their seats, voices filling the chamber with pointed questions. Their queries fell like arrows, each sharpened to pierce a gap in Arzan’s armor: What are their limits? How strong are they compared to ordinary Knights? Could they stand against trained battlemages?
To his credit, Arzan never stumbled. His answers gave away just enough to sate curiosity without yielding substance. He revealed only what any competent spy might glean by watching his men fight. “Unlike Mages,” he said evenly, “there is no formal progression yet. I am still shaping them. Even those with the proper mana organs must possess a body tempered well enough to endure the awakening. Your questions will be answered once I have more information.”
That word—awakening—rippled across the Assembly and garnered their attention. They all must’ve been imagining what the method might be. Yet when pressed, Arzan didn’t give away anything.
“When I am certain the method is without side effects, I will share it with the kingdom.”
It was a flimsy reason. Even William could taste the hollowness of it, like thin wine poured into a gilded cup. But it didn’t matter. Arzan stood in the chamber shielded by law. No decree bound him to explain his secrets; no crime accused him of concealment. For now, his words sufficed.
And William saw the truth. This was not about knowledge—it was about theater. Regina wanted to paint him as a hoarder of power, a man clutching something that could reshape the kingdom while keeping it locked away. But each time she tried to stoke that fire, Arzan’s composure turned it back on her. His repeated assurances, his calm tone, even his refusal to lash back, every move made him look less like a schemer and more like a careful guardian.
The nobles, William noticed, began to shift. Some nodded. Some still scowled. But few looked convinced that he was the villain Regina wanted them to see.
In truth, her strategy was crumbling. Every question asked, every trap set, only seemed to elevate Arzan further. By forcing him into the spotlight, she had made him appear indispensable. William’s lips curled faintly as he leaned back in his chair. You’re losing your cards, Regina. You’ve overplayed your hand.
Relief began to settle over him. He could almost believe that the worst had passed, that everything was going to be all right. The storm of questions slowed, then thinned. Voices that had once thundered now dwindled to a murmur, then silence.
And then Regina rose again.
William felt his chest tightened. What now, witch? What else can you possibly wring from this?
But when she spoke, the words that left her lips froze the chamber to its bones.
Even William, who had weathered battlefields and betrayals alike, felt the marrow in his spine chill. Around him, nobles stiffened, eyes wide.
The Assembly, once loud with challenge and debate, now held its breath.
***
Kai felt the air congeal around him the moment Regina’s words struck. The Assembly—row after row of Dukes, Counts, Viscounts, and Barons—froze as if some spell had stilled their tongues and shackled their breath.
“I know we have already spoken much about Count Arzan and his accomplishments,” Regina said, “but I would ask one final question. Count Arzan has proven himself invaluable to this kingdom with his strength and his… innovations. Yet there remains one matter that gnaws at me. The possibility that he might be siding with outsiders—outsiders who have killed men of our kingdom.”
The chamber did not erupt, not at first. Instead, there was a heavy silence.
Kai looked across the nobles and immediately noticed the stiffened shoulders, the way their eyes darted sideways to study their neighbors. No one wanted to speak, no one wanted to be the first to break that fragile pause while they tried to grasp what exactly Regine had just accused him of.
Finally, one of the Barons in his faction, a thin man with sharp cheekbones and even sharper eyes, pushed himself up from his chair.
“What are you saying, Your Highness? Count Arzan has stood as a shield against outside threats. The plague is proof enough of that!”
A ripple of agreement followed. A few heads nodded, lips moved in quiet assent. But Regina’s eyes never left Kai. She hadn’t thrown her line into the sea expecting minnows to bite. She was staring straight at the leviathan she wanted to haul out.
“He might have,” Regina said, her voice unbending, “but I know something you do not. Count Arzan has sided with the barbarians our kingdom clashed with in recent years. One of their tribes festers within his lands, thriving under his protection. And if that were not enough, they even took part in the fief war.”
The chamber broke into gasps and murmurs, the words barbarians and fief war tossed around like sparks in dry tinder. The nobles turned toward him, suspicion and unease flashing in their eyes.
“I am sure,” Regina pressed on, “that the nobles captured during that war can attest to this truth.”
And then it came. A man stood, his chair scraping violently against the marble floor. His face, still lined with bitterness, marked him as a man who had not forgotten his defeat.
“I am Viscount Vensar,” he declared, voice shaking with both outrage and lingering fear. “And yes—it is true. The barbarians fought against us in the fief war. I faced them myself. They struck without warning, without mercy. I was taken aback, overwhelmed. Those traitors nearly killed me, Your Majesty!”
Gasps and sharp whispers followed his words. Some nobles looked at Kai with widened eyes, others with suspicion hardening into anger. The Assembly was no longer frozen. It was tilting, shifting, searching for a new balance. And Regina, with one accusation, had shoved it off its center.
Kai’s jaw tightened. The game had changed.
The Viscount’s words rang through the chamber like a hammer blow, his eyes locked not on Arzan, but on King Sullivan—seeking royal validation, as if daring the King to punish his foe. Then, for just a heartbeat, the man’s gaze slid sideways, and he bared a grin at Kai.
Kai’s fingers curled against his robes. So that’s how you want to play it. The man might have stood as a witness, but Kai knew better than to put faith in him. Lies and half-truths spilled easily from bitter lips, and all they really needed to do was stir the pot. That grin had said it all: this wasn’t about justice, it was about burning him down.
And Regina had finally found a spark that caught.
The chamber swelled with noise, nobles leaning into one another, voices rising in waves of shock, anger, suspicion. Some pointed, others shook their heads, but what mattered was their eyes. A few of them were looking at him differently now—not as a savior of the kingdom, not as the Count who had held back the beast tide, but as something else.
As if traitor was already written across his brow.
Kai exhaled slowly. So it worked. Damn her.
Until now, Regina’s strikes had glanced off his armor. But this one? This one had found flesh. Nobles feared him, respected him, hesitated to move against him… but if she painted him as a man who had bent knee to outsiders—enemies who had spilled noble blood—then even fear wouldn’t hold them back. A traitor was worth killing, no matter how dangerous.
King Sullivan leaned forward on his throne. He cleared his throat loud enough for the nobles to silence themselves. “Lord Arzan, how about you explain yourself?”
Everything else fell silent enough for Kai to hear the pounding of his own heart. He lifted his chin and swept his gaze across the Assembly. He didn’t rush. Rather, he waited, patiently until the last whispers faded.
“First of all, let me be honest,” he said. “What Queen Regina said is true.”
He didn’t deny, and that caused a thunder of gasps, which followed by whispers. Then he drew in a breath, and with a weary sigh, raised his hand.
“Let me speak.”
The simple command was enough to silence them.
“Yes, Your Highness. The Barbarians—or more specifically, the Lombards, are now under me. The warriors and I reached a truce. And yes… I am making use of them.”
The uproar threatened to rise again, but Kai cut across it.
“Before you decide what that makes me—before you question my loyalty to the crown and to this kingdom—let me ask you all one question.”
He let his gaze travel the chamber, meeting the eyes of Dukes, Counts, and Barons alike. He didn’t rush the silence. He didn’t explain himself further. He simply asked:
“Do we need more enemies?”
The words hung heavy in the air.
But he could say, the question made a lot of people uncomfortable. They shifted in their places, glancing sidelong at one another. For a moment, the Assembly was no longer a battlefield of accusations.
He again patiently waited, until finally one of them rose to his feet.
“No!” Kai looked at where the voice came from. It was a Count. “We don’t. I believe everyone here understands that so well—that we already have too many enemies.”
Heads bobbed unisonly. Kai even saw some relaxing from their stiff postures as though relieved someone had spoken aloud what all of them carried in the pit of their stomachs.
“Exactly.” Kai extended his hand. “Look around us—Vanderfall is on our doorstep. Beyond that, we are hemmed in by kingdoms of every shade: some call themselves friends, some are open foes, and yet even our so-called friends are watched with suspicion. And outside them?” His voice hardened, carrying the weight of experience. “Demonic powers fester. Dead mana creeping across the land, necromancers, liches, ghouls… all biding their time. And then there are the beasts—their waves strike our borders without warning. Dungeon outbreaks. Every year, some calamity claws at us.”
The nobles shifted uneasily.
“And these,” Kai pressed, “are only the external threats. Within our own borders, we bleed from a hundred cuts. Bandits prowl our roads. Ancient beast lairs sleep under our mountains, waiting to wake. We only just survived a plague, and famine still gnaws at the weak.”
Whispers stirred again, some nobles bowing their heads, others narrowing their eyes.
It was then that Regina’s voice cut sharp across the chamber. “And what exactly are you trying to say, Count Arzan?”
Kai turned his gaze toward her and straightened. “I’m saying this: we already have too many enemies. Surely everyone here can agree to that.”
The response came not from lips but from movement—nods, murmurs of reluctant agreement, nobles pressing palms together on the railing before them as though conceding silently.
“The only reason I moved to sign a truce with the Lombards,” Kai continued, voice steady, “was because I did not wish to create another enemy within our own kingdom. One that we ourselves had driven into opposition.”
A snarl of indignation came from the floor. A Marquis, flushed red with fury, shot to his feet.
“Are you saying it was our fault? That we brought this on ourselves? These are barbarians, Count Arzan. Savages squatting in the mountains with no claim to civilization. They are not a country. They are not our equals!”
The chamber rumbled with agreement and dissent alike.
Kai’s gaze slid to the noble. His words fell like stones in that water, one after another.
“Then why did we not leave them alone? Why did we move against them?”
The noble’s jaw worked soundlessly, his mouth opening and closing like a fish on dry land. No words came.
“Because,” Kai answered for him, “of their martial arts. Their techniques. Techniques our kingdom coveted. And I understand that. If another kingdom’s Mage held a power I sought, I too would be tempted to take it.” His eyes swept across the Assembly, voice sharpening with conviction. “But ask yourselves: does fighting them truly serve us? Does adding one more foe to a list already choking us bring strength or ruin?”
He let the silence answer.
“That is exactly why I made a truce with them,” Kai said at last. “I chose peace where we had only sown war. If that makes me a traitor…” His shoulders straightened as he shrugged. “…then let it be so.”
Comments
T'Ericka
I don’t think she knows
Dominick Zimmerman
I just reread the last couple chapters and I'm partially expecting a complete crash out from Regina if it doesn't go her way.
Dominick Zimmerman
I felt it gave his statement an air of finality ya know, like their is nothing more to say on the matter.
Silver Beard
OMG... and I thought my English was bad. Get help! Yes, he could definitely change the map over if he could get the Kingdom behind him. That's really the whole point of this farce though. He has his Mother's pendant- he can ask for anything; everything is a farce until he uses it.
Silver Beard
MC should drop that last sentence. Author too; you don't give your enemies a line to latch onto.
Silver Beard
I still don't see how author keeps the elves out of it. If the Queen really wanted to make him a Monster she'd bring up his druid bond with the Reaper of the River.
Silver Beard
It was a very good chapter. Thanks for sharing. I am very curious now how he plans to use his Legacy.
Alex
I would not be surprised if some of these nobles have sons and daughters who have the right organs to be knights and not mages and would be willing to do stuff to help there children who can not inherit there lands but still love them
Djinko
sign me up too bro ...
Dominick Zimmerman
Damn bro 😭😭 I need more of this, TYFTC
Naniterite
Tyftc!!!!
