Transmigration To Magus World-Chapter 74: The Gathering of Titans

Blood Butcher Martin, Soul-Losing Spear Gene , Deadly Three-Blade Trager, Little Demon General Miles, and Ghost-Faced Man Raider...

These individuals, all ranked among the top thirty on the Gold Rankings of the Outer Clan disciples of the Heavenly Demon Clan, strong contenders for promotion to the Inner Clan, had all gathered in Triesenberg city today.

Apart from them, figures like Aizen, Simon, Alester, and even the black-robed disciple Gideon, were far from ordinary.

As the soft music and graceful dance continued, about half a cup of tea’s time passed, and the absent South Courtyard disciples arrived as well.

Similarly, there were three of them, each with a distinct temperament.

They were Heartbreaking Thorn Abraham, Monument-Splitting Hand Jack, and the grinning widow Finn.

Although the three seemed to have come as a group, they each harbored their own motives. Upon entering the hall, they first paid their respects to Viggo and then discreetly observed the others.

When their gazes fell on Aizen and Gideon, the unfamiliar faces piqued their interest, their eyes flashing with suspicion.

"Take your seats," Viggo gestured with a casual smile.

"Yes," Abraham replied with a light smile and a clasped fist salute, withdrawing his sharp gaze from Aizen before taking a steady seat at a table directly below Aizen.

The other two followed suit, their expressions unchanged as they took their places.

"Boring!" 𝚏𝗿𝗲𝐞𝚠𝕖𝐛𝗻𝗼𝐯𝕖𝚕.𝚌𝗼𝗺

Blood Butcher Martin snorted disdainfully, grabbing the ample chest of the dancer in his lap with a fierce squeeze.

The dancer shivered in pain but dared not utter a sound, feeling as if her chest would be ripped apart.

Some drank, others watched the dance, paying no heed to Martin’s comment.

They all understood his meaning.

Abraham ranked eighth, Jack fifteenth, and Finn twenty-fourth on the Gold Rankings. None of them were easy to deal with, yet they willingly sat below Martin.

No one here was a fool.

Although Aizen had just recently joined the Gold Rankings, his exploits had already spread throughout the Heavenly Demon Clan.

Forcing his way into the Clan and succeeding was already a rare feat. To top it off, he had killed a formidable figure like Kean the very next day.

Nobody believed that someone who had taken down Kean was merely ranked twenty-seventh.

Earlier, Simon’s probing of Aizen had allowed everyone present to witness his strength.

If Abraham were to test Aizen as well, they might glean even more.

Those present knew each other well, as they were all established figures. They were even familiar with the not-yet-promoted Inner Clan candidate, the peerless swordsman Gideon.

But Aizen was an anomaly, as if he had sprung out of nowhere—suddenly appearing in the Outer Clan, then swiftly killing Kean to rise to prominence.

This mysterious, powerful man with formidable inner strength and venomous techniques posed a great threat to everyone. Yet, they had no idea what other aces he held.

Naturally, they hoped someone else would take the risk to uncover more.

However, no one was foolish enough to volunteer—not Abraham, not Finn.

Perhaps Gideon, obsessed with the sword, might dare. But unless Aizen demonstrated extraordinary swordsmanship, he had no reason to act.

With everyone present, Viggo clapped his hands. The dancers retreated, and the side hall doors were shut.

"Now that all of you are here, I won’t waste words. Two days ago, a group from the Seven Swords Clan passed through Flying Deer Gorge and arrived last night at an abandoned temple 300 meters west of the city outskirts. They were spotted by the Demon Eagle.

"However, two days ago, 200 miles outside the city, a small tavern run by one of our sect’s disciples was set ablaze. Among the dead was Marco Crowley, a scion of the Crowley family from Yunzhou, along with his entourage. The perpetrators covered their tracks well..."

As Viggo spoke, his gaze flicked toward Aizen.

The information revealed much, prompting even Blood Butcher Martin to glance at Aizen.

Even Gideon, who had just opened his eyes from resting, gave Aizen another look.

Everyone knew—or could now guess—who was behind Marco Crowley’s death.

The Seven Swords Clan’s alliance with aristocratic families never truly unified.

While some families traced their lineage to righteous sect elders, such ties had often faded with time.

Aristocratic families, if weaker, submitted. Stronger ones resisted interference.

Powerful families like the Crowley family from Wekami were rare, but arrogant scions like Marco Crowley were common.

With his personality, Marco Crowley would never obediently follow anyone, not even Seven Swords disciples.

He had sought to prove himself, standing out as unique and free-spirited. But such arrogance led to his demise.

Entering Heavenly Demon Clan’s territory and still acting brash? Not killing him would seem discourteous.

Elder Mustang was the first to receive the news and assigned Aizen to handle it—not only to test his abilities but also for personal gain.

Among Elder Mustang’s disciples, Aizen was the strongest. If groomed well, he could rival Elder Simon or Elder Alester.

The better his disciples, the more resources Elder Mustang could secure.

"Today, they’ve reached the site where Marco Crowley died. The Demon Eagle keeps watch, but six have vanished from its sight. Likely, they used some method to conceal themselves.

"They probably have some ploy, waiting for us to go to them."

Viggo’s tone remained calm as he spoke.

"They think we’re fools? It’s their move to enter the city. All we need to do is stop them," said Gene, his burly frame akin to a lion as he polished his gleaming spear.

"You must go," Viggo said firmly. "Those who evaded the Demon Eagle are hidden threats. You don’t know if they’ve entered the city or have allies unseen.

"To draw them out, you must take risks. But remember, you are the hidden force. They are unaware of your presence. That is your advantage."

Viggo’s words landed with a decisive weight.

"Open deeds are hard to execute, but covert ones succeed more easily."

For the righteous Seven Swords Clan and their aristocratic allies, the movements of the demonic disciples were completely unknown. Or, perhaps, not entirely unknown—after all, there is always a bit of white in the black and a bit of black in the white.

When black contains white, it is no longer pure. Impure things naturally develop flaws.