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Magus Reborn Chapter 236
🕑 Added 2025-06-17 06:32:55 +0000 UTCChapter 236
Kai didn’t want to fight the tribal leaders. Certainly not five of them at once.
Every part of him preferred to avoid that outcome—mana was better spent on orcs than politics, and a fight with five tribe leaders, even at Rank 2, wasn't something to take lightly. But after sitting through a meeting that turned to sharp words and more posturing than progress, he’d reached a simple conclusion—the fastest way to establish his place was with a weapon in hand.
The Ashari desert tribes were warrior clans. Blood and sand were their language. Titles, words, and diplomacy had their place—but strength was what made them listen. There was a reason each council member was an Enforcer. That strength was how they earned their seats. And strength was what they respected.
Kai just spoke the language better.
He already knew what they were capable of. Ansel had given him the breakdown ahead of the meeting. All five were Rank 2 Enforcers—three at the early stage, Khalid among them. Maari, the older woman with eyes like a desert hawk was the second strongest. And the strongest—of course—was Adil.
The man who had spent most of the meeting trying to provoke him. Kai wasn’t eager to clash. But he was ready.
This was, after all, a rare opportunity. How often did he get to test his spear against seasoned warriors who didn’t fear or respect him? And if he came close to losing, which he knew he would if he only relied on his spear skills, he could afford to use a few spells.
When he issued the challenge, no one stopped him.
There had been no protests, no deflections and no council leader rose with a hand raised. They just stared at him. He had expected them to lash out, maybe one or two leaders laughing at him, but he only saw stiff shoulders, clenched jaws and narrowed eyes.
He immediately realised what it was—pride.
Kai had managed to graze their pride by challenging them all to a duel at the same time and he could see it in their eyes that they wanted to teach him a lesson. That worked well for him since no one them wanted to back down.
Without another word exchanged, the entire group filed out of Khalid’s stone hall. They crossed the courtyard and wound through a narrow path until they came upon a wide, ringed arena dug into the ground—a sunken circle surrounded by old banners and trees. The sand here was darker, clearly disturbed often.
At this hour, the place was quiet—eerily so.
The wind blew harshly through the desert, the stars blinked faintly overhead, and the moon cast its pale glow on the sand-ring nestled in the heart of the secluded grove. There was no crowd, no cheering tribes folk, no rising drumbeat to mark the duel. Though he would’ve liked a crowd, this felt much better, just the trees and the people that were needed.
Kai eyed them briefly.
The five tribal leaders were readying themselves nearby, checking their weapons, murmuring quiet words to one another. None wore armor. They likely thought that adding armour to the duel would simply make Kai’s position much worse and that it wasn't needed.
He didn’t mind being underestimated. On the contrary, he liked that.
“Be careful of Adil,” Ansel said, stepping close enough to speak quietly. “Even when I was a boy, they called him the swift sword. Fastest Sand Knight in the desert, they said. He’ll hang back and wait for the others to press you—then strike when you’re off balance.”
Kai glanced at him, then nodded. “I’ll keep that in mind. Anything else?”
Ansel hesitated, his brow furrowing in thought. Then he shook his head. “No. You’ll be able to handle them. You’ve seen more battles than I have—more than most of us. I can see it every time you fight.”
That earned a faint smile from Kai. “I’ve been in my fair share.”
Ansel gave a quiet nod, then added, almost as an afterthought, “Just one thing.”
“What?”
Ansel glanced toward the ring, then back. “Don’t hit my brother too hard.”
Kai smiled. “I won’t.”
With that, he turned and stepped toward the ring.
His boots crunched over the loose sand. The arena felt older than it looked—well-worn, scarred by a hundred sparring sessions beneath its peaceful canopy. He crossed the boundary and entered first, spear in hand.
The tribal leaders followed, fanning out in a rough semicircle, weapons drawn but not yet raised. Khalid, standing at the edge, lifted his voice.
“The duel ends at the count of third blood or if one is pushed from the ring. No killing strikes. This is to be a friendly spar.”
Adil snickered as Khalid’s voice faded. The sound was low, biting, and Kai didn’t need a spell to know the man had no intention of following the rules. At least thessy one.
Kai tapped the butt of his spear against the ground and said casually, “No referees, right?”
Khalid shook his head. “None. We don’t need one. It should end quickly anyway.” He paused, his gaze unreadable. “We can still change the spar’s format. Make it less lopsided—”
“No need,” Kai said, cutting in. “Just come at me.”
Khalid frowned. “Are you sure—?”
Before he could finish, Adil let out a scoff. “Khalid, stop trying to give him a way out,” he said. “He’s the one who wanted this.”
Khalid’s jaw tightened, but he said nothing else. After a breath, he nodded stiffly.
He gave a look to one of the Sand Knights standing nearby. The man stepped forward, raised his arm high, and announced, “The spar begins on the count of three. Take your positions.”
The tribal leaders began to spread out immediately, the air shifting with movement and purpose.
Kai’s eyes tracked them. They weren’t taking chances. Each one was creating space to move, to breathe, to flank.
Adil and Khalid both wielded swords—Adil’s sleek and slightly curved, meant for speed; Khalid’s heavier and paired with a round shield strapped to his arm.
“One!”
The blacksmith, Husam—his name, carried a warhammer that looked like it belonged on a battlefield, not in a spar. He was already bouncing on his heels.
The fourth, a slim man named Saif, notched an arrow onto a desert-carved bow, eyes scanning from a distance—he was waiting for the opening. And then there was Maari.
“Two!”
She stood still, holding a pair of slender daggers at her sides. But as Kai’s gaze settled on her arm, he caught a flicker of something metallic wrapped near her wrist. He didn’t get the chance to examine it further.
“Three!”
The word cracked through the air like a whip.
Husam lunged first, charging forward. Kai had already shifted his stance by then, muscles coiled, and leapt back just as the hammer slammed down where he'd stood a breath ago, sending sand flying.
Even before his feet touched the ground, Kai sensed movement—faint whistles in the air.
Arrows.
He twisted mid-air, bringing his spear around in a wide arc. The metal shaft caught two of them, knocking them out of the air before they could pierce flesh. The third scraped his outer robe as it sailed past.
Danger prickled down his spine.
Kai spun, lifting his spear in time to block a swift slash from Adil, who had already closed the distance. The man’s strike was fast—blindingly so. Their weapons clashed with a harsh crack, steel on steel.
Adil sneered, lips curled as if the fight had already been won.
Kai pushed forward with a sudden surge of strength—but the hammer came crashing again. Kai dropped low, rolled across the sand, and rose to a sprint, weaving as arrows hissed toward him like angry wasps.
So far, predictable.
Let’s see how long they can keep up.
Surrounded in a ring with five trained warriors, all capable and all watching for an opening, Kai knew he couldn’t afford to drag this out—not if he was relying solely on his Enforcer abilities.
They were too many. Too fast. Too coordinated. He needed to break them apart.
Khalid stepped forward just as Kai twisted to move. His stance was solid, predictable, but not slow. A moment later, his sword swept out, aiming to pin Kai in.
But Kai was already moving.
Mana surged into his legs as he cast a wind spell through his foot, the pressure building before it exploded beneath his feet. His speed spiked—Khalid’s eyes widened, sword swinging wildly to catch him mid-dash.
It was too late.
Kai slipped under the blow, twisted his spear, and drove it into Khalid’s shield arm. The tip sliced skin—shallow but enough to draw blood. Khalid grunted, stumbling half a step.
But Kai didn’t have time to press the advantage.
Arrows hissed through the air again.
He pushed himself back, retreating in quick steps as the shafts embedded in the sand where he’d stood. He gritted his teeth. The archer was smart—waiting for openings, keeping him mobile.
Fortunately, the ring was big enough to give him room. And right now, that was all he needed. His eyes snapped toward Saif—the archer—who was already nocking another arrow.
Kai didn’t hesitate. He flicked two knives from his belt and sent them spinning through the air. They weren’t enchanted, just steel, but they forced the archer to shift, to duck, to hesitate.
And in that brief pause—Kai moved. He didn’t charge. Instead, he whispered an incantation.
Mana pooled in his heart, then threaded into his arms as he shaped the spell inwardly. The spectral threads formed in his palm, coiling, tightening.
A mana whip cracked out.
It lashed forward arcing low—and caught Saif by the ankle just as he tried to sidestep.
The man hit the ground with a grunt, bow flying from his hand. He scrambled, twisting to sever the hold, but Kai gripped the ethereal tether tighter, jaw clenched, and poured more strength into the spell.
Then with a twist of his arm, he swung Saif sideways.
The man skidded across the sand and over the edge of the ring.
Kai muttered under his breath, “One down.”
He didn’t have time to savor it.
A thunderous step behind him took his attention—Husam, the hammer-wielder, charged in. And from the other side Adil, moved like a shadow with that thin, gleaming sword.
They had timed it perfectly.
Two angles. No room to run.
Kai didn’t stop to think.
Wind burst beneath his feet again—this time mixed with a pulse of fire. The combination launched him upward in a spiraling jump, robes whipping behind him as the hammer crushed air beneath and Adil’s sword swept through nothing but dust.
Kai flipped mid-air, landed in a slide, rolled—
And the moment his hands hit the sand, he felt his senses prickling, feeling danger out of nowhere.
He saw something sharp—a glint, a flash—coming fast from the right.
His body reacted before his mind caught up.
He spun his spear up like a wall and braced.
The impact rang through his bones. Kai’s eyes widened as he caught the gleam of metal arcing toward him again—too close, too fast.
He stepped right on instinct, spear up—but it wasn’t enough. The dagger curved mid-air.
The wire guiding it shone and the blade twisted unnaturally, slicing across his arm before he could fully dodge. Pain flared and for a moment, he was taken back. Blood welled up and slipped down his forearm, warm and thin.
He hissed, jerking back, but the damage was done.
Only then did he get a good look at it—thin daggers, connected by nearly invisible threads. They snapped back sliding into the hands of Maari, who stood just outside his range with a calm smile on her lips.
“You still have time to surrender,” she called out lightly.
Mana flowed inward, gathering into his veins. He almost regretted not laying a barrier down from the start. But barriers drained mana fast, and he had been hoping to avoid that. But he had no such luck.
From the corner of his eye, he saw movement—fast and aggressive.
Adil, Khalid, and Husam, all charging again, closing the distance from different angles.
He raised his hand, lines of heat forming in the air around him as he shaped a new spell structure. The runes linked cleanly—tight, fast, practiced.
Half a dozen [Firebolts] hissed into existence, launching outward like arrows made of flame. The tribal leaders' eyes widened as they rushed toward them, splitting paths—three heading straight for Husam, one toward Maari, and two weaving between Adil and Khalid like flying fangs.
The hammer-wielder was the first to react.
Husam roared and swung hard at the air, trying to knock the bolts aside. But they slipped past, too nimble, too fast. One slammed into his upper arm—he staggered, yelling as the flames bit through his skin. Another struck his side, and a third circled behind and licked across the back of his knee.
His hammer came up in a wide, desperate horizontal arc, knocking one bolt out of the air. But the last one struck clean into the back of his leg.
He went down, coughing out a curse, steam rising from scorched flesh as he became the second person to lose.
Kai watched it from the corner of his vision as Adil, dodging the bolts, muttered under his breath, “Everyone other than me is useless.”
He and Khalid had fared better—Khalid’s shield caught one of the bolts, absorbing it with a loud crack, while Adil twisted his body, slipping between them with barely a singe. They were way faster than Husam.
Too fast for more bolts to do much now unless he fully overwhelmed them. Not worth the drain. It was time to change tactics.
Kai adjusted his footing and surged forward—wind pouring through his legs once again, pressure coiling tight around his calves before releasing in a sharp burst of acceleration.
His target was clear now. Maari.
She had reach. Tricks. And worst of all, range. Someone like her needed to be taken out first.
Kai shot forward, wind swirling around his feet in steady bursts, targeting Maari with deadly precision. But she wasn’t idle. She had already dealt with the fire bolt he’d sent her way and was mid-motion, flicking both her daggers forward.
They whistled through the air—fast, sharp, controlled by invisible wires.
Kai didn’t stop.
He ducked low, twisting mid-run, and small gusts of wind erupted around every part of his exposed skin—arms, neck, legs. The daggers curved toward him, but instead of biting into flesh, they deflected off the sudden flares of air, thrown just slightly off-course.
Maari’s eyes widened, surprise flickering across her face. That was all the time he needed.
Kai closed the distance in a blink. His spear swung in a wide arc—metal flashing as it aimed straight for her side. She caught it.
A steel bracer on her forearm sparked as it absorbed the blow, but it forced her back a step. Her daggers snapped back into her grip on their thin wires, and she spun with a dancer’s grace, slashing toward him.
Kai moved with her, spear flowing into blocks and parrys.
Steel hissed against steel.
He ducked under a slash, shifted to the side, then rammed the butt of his spear into her ribs. A grunt escaped her lips as she staggered—just long enough for Kai to twist the spear in his hands and slash low.
The blade tore a shallow line across her stomach. She grimaced and took a step back, wounded—but not finished.
Kai didn’t wait.
He swept his foot into her shin, and as she stumbled, he snapped his fingers. A glowing whip of mana erupted and lashed around her legs like a snake, dragging her balance away completely.
She hit the ground hard—and a second later, the force of the whip sent her sliding backward across the sand.
Over the line. Out of the ring.
“Three,” Kai muttered. He turned—
Just in time to see Khalid charging at him, shield raised like a wall and eyes narrowed in focused rage.
Kai’s hand moved before thought finished forming. He slammed his palm against the ground and poured a sharp breath of mana into it.
Ice crackled beneath Khalid’s boots.
The shift from dry, sun-baked sand to slick, frozen surface was instant. Khalid’s expression flickered from fury to confusion—and then to panic as his foot slipped.
His charge collapsed mid-stride. He fell hard, shield catching his weight with a clang as he skidded forward. He tried to push up, but the ice was too foreign—too alien for someone born and raised in sun and sand. His limbs scrambled for grip that wasn’t there, hands clawing at the slick surface.
Kai stepped forward calmly.
He raised a hand, formed [Firebolts]—small ones, fast and precise. With a flick of his wrist, he sent them gliding across the ice. They didn’t hit with force.
Just grazed him—along the arm, the back, the shoulder. Thin trails of blood bloomed across Khalid’s exposed skin.
Khalid grunted in frustration and exhaustion, half-crawling off the ice, but by then he was out.
Four down.
Only one remained.
Adil.
The man stood across the ring, arms crossed, a thin smirk playing on his lips. He hadn’t moved during Kai’s clash with Khalid. Hadn’t interfered. Hadn’t helped. Just watched.
Now, he stepped forward slowly, drawing his sword, the gleam of polished steel catching the starlight.
“That’s all they had.” He scoffed. “Now let’s see if you can keep up with me. You took out the weak ones with tricks. But that won’t work on me.”
Kai rolled his shoulders, the shaft of his spear firm in his grip. “We’ll see about that.”
He had no intention of ending this with fire bolts or whips. Not yet. A one-on-one fight was rare, and it was the perfect chance to push his close-combat skills against a fast, dangerous opponent.
Adil didn’t wait.
He shot forward, a blur of movement and steel. Kai braced, grounding his stance and meeting the first blow with the solid shaft of his spear. Sparks crackled off the metal as the weapons clashed.
But Adil was faster than him.
In the same breath, he spun low and jabbed toward Kai’s chest.
Kai twisted, just barely dodging the strike, the sword grazing past his robes. He countered instantly, snapping a kick toward Adil’s ribs, but the man was already gone, darting back and out of reach.
Their clash continued without a single wasted second. In the next minute, they traded dozens of blows—Kai’s spear sweeping, thrusting, pivoting—Adil’s sword responding with clean, deadly arcs.
Kai ducked two strikes that would’ve sliced open his side. He blocked another aimed at his shoulder, and caught a fourth with the flat of his spear.
But every time he moved, Adil was already reacting. Already evading.
Yet behind that cold smile Adil wore with every dodge… Kai saw it. The twitch in his brow. The slight tightening at the corners of his eyes.
Panic.
It wasn’t visible to anyone else, but Kai had seen enough real combat to recognize the signs. Adil wasn’t in control. Not really. His confidence was being chipped away strike by strike.
“You’re not as bad as I expected,” Adil said coolly, stepping back as if he still had the upper hand. “But let’s see how you handle this.”
Before Kai could respond, he felt it—mana rising fast.
The sand around Adil stirred, already moving upwards. It whipped around his body, clinging to him, to his blade, to the air itself. In seconds, the man and his sword were obscured, shrouded in a storm of golden dust.
The wind howled as Adil vanished within it—and then, with a sharp burst, the storm shot forward, blinding, jagged, all aimed at Kai.
Wind burst from Kai in all directions—tight, sharp, slicing through the air around him and forming a protective spiral. It didn’t stop the sand, but it redirected it, forcing the cloud away from his face and eyes, pushing it behind him.
Still, he could barely see.
Adil’s voice came from somewhere within the storm. “Your spells won’t save you.”
Then the attack came.
A glint of metal. A sudden movement. Kai jumped back on instinct, but the sand thickened again, obscuring Adil’s precise location. It wouldn’t last long. Kai knew that.
And if it continued this way—if he let the storm grow—he’d be picked apart.
So, bitter at having to spend more mana than he wanted, Kai made his decision.
He summoned fire.
Heat rushed through his limbs. Then, with a sharp step, he drove his palm into the ground—fire exploding outward in a ring.
The flames met the sand instantly. And everything changed. The entire tide of the battle shifted.
Adil’s storm faltered as the heat roared through it. The sand suspended in the air turned first to glowing clumps, then to slick shards—and finally, to glass.
The arena hissed as fire met dust. The ground beneath Adil’s feet warped and crackled. His sword slowed in its arc.
His eyes widened.
He tried to shake the sand off his limbs, realizing too late what Kai had done. The molten edges of the arena shifted. Thin patches of glass cracked beneath his steps.
Then—
Sharp edges rose. The glass caught him.
Blood sprayed from Adil’s leg as he stumbled backward, his foot sliced by what had once been a harmless dune.
Comments
OffBy0x01
Typo in “At least thessy one.”
Conspirant
I’m sure Adil will take his loss gracefully and be fully helpful and cooperative from now on. Going on to become a great ally
Arthor K
I do read them. Thank you
Austin
Got to say bro I don’t know if you read the comments but love your Magnus story dude
Silver Beard
Adil is definitely one will stab him in the back; just as well put him down and out now.
