Transmigration To Magus World-Chapter 126: Who Will Be Eliminated First

No one here was a fool.

To preside over a region and act as the key representative of a power was not a role for idiots.

Bobby’s death was undeniably suspicious. It was highly probable that Ghost Blade was not the murderer.

But that no longer mattered.

Whether this incident was orchestrated by someone behind the scenes or not, the tightly drawn bowstring was now on the verge of snapping due to these events.

"Johnny died yesterday. Rumor has it that the newly ascended Vincent teamed up with others to take him down. Even William got involved," someone said in the room.

This was a study, dimly lit, with artificial hills and a lake outside, lending the place a tranquil atmosphere.

There were only two people inside.

The speaker’s voice was deep and thunderous, like muffled thunder.

Another voice followed, calm and confident.

"It seems this wasn’t stirred up by the Heavenly Demon Clan’s people... Mike, what do you think?"

"I agree. Right now, the Heavenly Demon Clan is barely keeping itself afloat. That 97th-ranked figure on the leaderboard..."

"You’re wrong."

"Hmm?" Mike’s eyes widened like copper bells as he stared at the purple-robed young man before him. The latter casually toyed with a small flag on the sand table before him and smiled.

"That person is definitely in the city. He’s waiting for us to clash with the Overseas Hundred Alliances, ready to sow chaos and reap the benefits as we exhaust our forces against each other."

Mike froze. "If that’s the case, I’ll send people to search the city immediately and force him out."

"No need. He’s no fool, and neither am I. He’ll reveal himself soon enough. Since he wants to see Turtle Stone Ridge and the Overseas Hundred Alliances fight, let’s prepare for that battle. He’ll cooperate with us in due time."

The purple-robed Nathan placed the small flag on a hill on the sand table, his demeanor composed.

"Isn’t that falling into his trap? Are we really going to deplete our forces against the Hundred Alliances, letting the Heavenly Demon Clan profit in the shadows?"

"No, it’s Turtle Stone Ridge and the Heavenly Demon Clan profiting together. After we start the fight, any further mutual destruction will be pointless. The principle of ’capture the leader to end the chaos’ is well understood by everyone. But..."

Nathan’s lips curled as he turned to look at Mike. "It’s not easy to kill Ramond and the other two. However, compared to me and him, Ramond and his allies are relatively weak.

If it were me, I’d target Ramond and his team. And so would he.

From the moment he joined this game, we all knew which side was most likely to be eliminated first."

"Hmm?" Mike looked confused.

"The retreating Heavenly Demon Clan might look like it’s lost two experts, but in reality, their forces have united, becoming stronger and more difficult to deal with.

In contrast, the Overseas Hundred Alliances, despite their many experts, lack a true top-tier figure and are as scattered as sand.

It’s reminiscent of the old Heavenly Demon Clan—barely surviving.

But now that Alester and Simone are gone, and he has replaced them, the Heavenly Demon Clan is revitalized.

Still, neither I nor he can take down the Hundred Alliances alone without significant losses. That’s why their forces have lingered.

But now, with his play, I’ll cooperate and make my move. The Overseas Hundred Alliances are no longer qualified to be part of the final showdown.

The ultimate battlefield will be between Turtle Stone Ridge and the Heavenly Demon Clan. But I will emerge victorious."

Nathan’s figure disappeared into the inner room of the study, his voice echoing with unwavering confidence.

Mike grew more puzzled as he listened.

But Mike was simply Mike—he knew his place well. He was Nathan’s weapon, pointed in a direction and unleashed without question. He didn’t need to overthink things; he just needed to act.

"Gold Means Survival" Garfield

was furious. He was used to taking others’ lives, not the other way around. But this time was different—someone hadn’t taken his life but had taken his brother’s.

His brother, who had been his companion for over twenty years. Killing his brother was the same as killing him.

If Ghost Blade were standing before him now, Garfield wouldn’t hesitate to kill him.

He didn’t care whether his brother’s death was truly Ghost Blade’s doing; he only wanted revenge.

But his brother’s corpse had been returned, not by Ghost Blade but by Mike.

Nathan had forbidden him from taking a single step outside, and Garfield dared not defy his nominal senior brother. His brother might be dead, but he was still alive—and he intended to stay that way, at least long enough to avenge his brother.

To seek revenge, he needed to follow Nathan’s orders. 𝗳𝚛𝗲𝕖𝕨𝕖𝗯𝚗𝚘𝕧𝕖𝗹.𝗰𝗼𝕞

"Garfield, come with me. The Overseas Hundred Alliances will pay for this," Mike’s voice boomed from outside the courtyard.

Garfield rose abruptly, his eyes flashing with murderous intent, the sound of clinking metal filling the air.

He was covered in copper coins, wearing armor entirely made of them.

His moniker, "Gold Means Survival," was no mere nickname. He was known for killing with money—literally.

His ultimate move was a storm of coins, dense and inescapable. Among the coins, poisoned silver needles were hidden, ensuring certain death for anyone caught in the barrage.

No one wanted to be his enemy. Facing him meant death by money.

At the Eastern Dock: The Overseas Hundred Alliances’ Territory

At the eastern dock, under the jurisdiction of the Overseas Hundred Alliances, Aizen had just finished a day’s hard labor, unloading five large boats’ worth of goods.

Carrying such heavy loads was a test of one’s stamina. Even as a late-stage magus body Blood Refinement Sorcery artist, with strength comparable to that of an ox, the sheer effort of this new task left him exhausted. It wasn’t just about brute strength—without the proper technique, even someone like him would feel the strain.

The pay for this backbreaking work was 20 copper coins a day. While this seemed like a generous amount, it wasn’t easily earned. Ordinary laborers would have to risk their lives for it—true blood, sweat, and tears.

Aizen, however, had begun to develop a unique method for unloading cargo, one that suited him well.

He didn’t think poorly of this job. On the contrary, he saw it as a way to train his body. Through the work, he had even stumbled upon insights into the subtleties of stance techniques.

At his level of cultivation, Sorcery arts were no longer merely about practicing moves.

The saying went: "Sit like a bell, stand like a pine, move like the wind, and lie like a bow."

Every motion was a form of training; every stance was a lesson in stability.

As Aizen walked off the boat with goods strapped to his back, his feet skimmed the ground like arrows, leaving faint trails in their wake. Then, like a great bird balancing its load, he took measured, deliberate steps. When he unloaded the goods, his posture remained balanced, neither too stiff nor too loose, his shoulders shifting subtly.

With a quiet "thud," the cargo slid smoothly into place.

Every motion was deliberate, akin to practicing stance techniques in Sorcery arts. The exercise honed his balance, coordination, and strength, enabling him to exert complete control over his body.

The principle of "Train in stillness, apply in chaos; remain calm in peace, act decisively in crisis" guided him. For Aizen, integrating martial practice into his daily routine was second nature. His obsession with Sorcery arts ran so deep that even mundane tasks became training opportunities.

Such a person was bound to attract attention.

However, Aizen was careful to disguise his true nature. He behaved in a reserved and taciturn manner, blending in as a simple laborer. When he joined the dock crew, he hadn’t hidden the fact that he practiced Sorcery arts. While this earned him some curious glances, it also dispelled any serious suspicions.

His stance techniques, while solid, didn’t appear particularly advanced, merely the foundations of a well-trained practitioner.

A few supervisors watched him for a while before leaving him be. They had seen martial arts enthusiasts like Aizen before.

People obsessed with martial arts tended to be trustworthy. Their single-minded focus meant they were unlikely to slack off or cause trouble. To the overseers, Aizen was just another hardworking Sorcery artist trying to make an honest living.