Magus Supremacy-Chapter 873: Change in Authority (1)

Chapter 873

The woman who had just posed this question was among the first in the seated assembly to fix Grey with a disdainful look, her expression suggesting he was an intruder who simply didn’t belong in this elite gathering.

She wore a heavy coat of fur draped over her shoulders, and her wavy, vibrant orange hair nearly obscured her features.

She stared at Leo with a piercing, predatory gaze from eyes that matched her hair.

The vice principal met her stare with a calm composure, his lips curling into a small, enigmatic smile.

"I have summoned you all—leaders of the smaller clans of this faction, along with the respective warriors who bolster our ranks—to inform you that today is the day."

Confusion rippled through the hall as the attendees glanced at one another, whispering at the warrior’s cryptic words.

The only individuals who remained entirely unaffected, eliciting no visible emotion, were Grey’s allies standing upon the raised platform.

The Supreme Magus, appearing largely uncaring about the political tension thick in the air, leaned casually toward Thalos.

"Hey, how’s it going?"

The gargoyle looked down at the mage, a faint, amused smile touching his stony face.

"Never thought you would finally wake up. You certainly do seem to enjoy your sleep."

Grey frowned and huffed, turning his head away in mock annoyance.

"Whatever. Do you actually know what’s going on here?"

Thalos merely shrugged, his massive shoulders shifting. "Just listen."

Grey stared at the gargoyle for a second or two, his eyes blinking in thought before he tilted his head toward the others.

He noted again how they seemed utterly unfazed by Leo’s proclamation, nor were they intimidated by the powerful figures filling the room.

’They definitely know something I don’t.’

Finally, an older man who appeared to be in his late seventies spoke up, his voice raspy but commanding.

"Leo, we would appreciate it if you would cut to the chase and speak clearly. Time is of the essence, and we certainly do not have enough of it to waste on riddles."

A murmur of agreement swept through the hall as the others nodded along with the elder’s blunt assessment.

Leo stepped forward, positioning himself directly in front of the central, throne-like chair.

He scanned the breadth of the hall for a long, silent moment before replying:

"You are right; time is indeed of the essence. So, let us cut to the chase."

....

A heavy shroud of silence pervaded the hall as the assembly waited for the warrior’s next utterance.

The majority of those occupied by these "special" chairs were the patriarchs and matriarchs of the minor clans within the faction.

In any major faction, there were typically premier clans consisting of the primary powerhouses; these lineages held a reputation for producing absolute monsters to continue their legacy.

Then, there were the minor clans, which were numerous across the territory.

After all, it wasn’t uncommon for powerful individuals to be born who harbored a fierce desire for independence.

Countless warriors in this world loathed being under another’s thumb, and thus, they sought to establish their own houses.

Creating a clan was the easy part... but nurturing it into something recognizable was a grueling endeavor that saw many abandon the work midway.

Those who succeeded were usually the most battle-hardened and resilient.

This was why so many minor clans peppered the landscape.

Now... it didn’t mean a minor clan was forever relegated to the shadows.

If they possessed the raw strength, they could theoretically overthrow a major clan and claim a seat for themselves at the high table.

Alternatively, if their feats were recognizable enough, an entirely new seat could be forged for them among the faction’s elite powerhouses.

But in the decades since the Aetherian faction had been established, no one had been able to topple the major clans at the head of the table.

It was a seemingly impossible feat.

Rowen, Selene, and Orion were simply too formidable to be unseated by mere pests. 𝙛𝒓𝓮𝒆𝔀𝒆𝙗𝓷𝒐𝙫𝒆𝙡.𝒄𝓸𝓶

But unfortunately for the status quo... they had finally been taken down.

This vacuum was precisely why the minor clans were now actively conspiring to dismantle the remnants of the major houses now that their legendary leaders were gone.

Perhaps... Just perhaps, a new batch of major clans could rise to carry the faction to even greater heights.

The direct descendants had been trying desperately to put these upstarts back in their places, but the struggle had been anything but easy.

Consequently, the elders of the big three major clans had been relentlessly pestering Leo to intervene quickly before the situation took a turn for the absolute worst.

Leo was the next in line for the academy’s command after Orion, and he concurrently served as the vice leader of the prestigious Aetherborn clan.

Such a powerful figure certainly possessed the influence to act.

But what could a one-armed warrior truly accomplish in such a den of wolves?

"After much deliberation and careful decision, we have collectively determined who will step forward as the leader of the Aetherian faction!" Leo shouted, his calm gaze sweeping across the gathered crowd.

Those seated in the high chairs frowned deeply at the warrior’s words, wondering what game he was playing and exactly who had been selected for such a monumental role.

For a supreme leader to emerge, the three major clans had to provide their unanimous consent; they had to agree on a singular figure to lead and represent their interests.

Furthermore, select minor clans were usually consulted for their approval as well.

But with Orion, Selene, and Rowen gone, how had Leo managed to finalize this choice?

The orange-haired woman who had challenged him previously scowled at Leo, her eyes flashing with suspicion.

"What are you implying, Leo? Who have you chosen for this seat?"

Leo quickly shook his head, his remaining hand moving frantically in a dismissive gesture.

"Oh, no. Not me. The leaders of the three major clans themselves have decided this."

Another figure seated nearby furrowed his brows, his bald head gleaming slightly under the hall’s chandeliers.

"What do you mean? When were the new leaders of the three clans even decided?"

Gunther was the one to stride forward this time.

A heavy frown sat on his face as he glared at the assembly with predatory intent.

"Have you forgotten that the three previous leaders birthed children? The same heirs who have been kicking your asses these past few weeks? Have you forgotten their lineage, or do you require a painful reminder?" The warrior threatened, his fingers tightening around the hilt of one of the swords strapped to his back.

Aside from those in the special seats, the other spectators wore visibly frightened expressions, shifting back stiffly to create distance.

The bald man asked again, his frown deepening into a mask of skepticism.

"Okay? So are you saying you are the new leader of the Waterfall Clan?"

Gunther shook his head, a sharp smile spreading across his face as he stepped aside to reveal the path behind him.

"Nope. My younger brother, Mada Stormvale, is the official new leader of the Waterfall Clan," he announced, gesturing toward a completely stupefied Mada.