Earth's Greatest Magus

Chapter 2815: Planning

Emery returned to Ebiru Neo with a mind that refused to rest.

He set Atlas and VIA to work, tracing every possible movement connected to the Astiel clan—particularly two names that had begun to weigh heavily on his thoughts.

Caelthar Astiel.

Ishtar Astiel.

Finding them was far more difficult than he had hoped.

The Nephilim systems were layered with ancestral restrictions, and surveillance frameworks designed specifically to prevent outsiders from prying too deeply. Even with Atlas’s hybrid cognition and VIA’s predictive modeling, Emery’s movements were constrained at every turn.

Days passed before confirmation finally arrived.

”Caelthar is difficult to pin down,” Atlas reported, ”But both are within their homeworld—the Astiel System.”

Though ranked only mid-tier among the thirty secondary Nephilim families, the Astiel clan controlled an entire solar system of six planets, each fortified and governed independently. Their influence rivaled most Grade Three factions, and in some aspects exceeded them.

Ishtar herself was, in Emery’s eyes, insignificant.

A single-Cosmos Grand Magus. One among many royal bloodlines competing for relevance beneath the Astiel throne.

Yet she was a core member of the clan—protected not by her strength, but by her name. Any direct action against her could be interpreted as a provocation against the entire Astiel family.

And that family was anything but weak.

Emery spent the following days studying everything he could gather.

The Astiel military roster listed over fifty confirmed Grand Magus. Three among them had reached the peak of the Three-Cosmos Realm. And presiding above them all was.

The Sky Lord.

The name alone stirred something dark within Emery.

From Kronos’s fragmented memories, he knew the truth. The Sky Lord was the figure whose schemes had bled into Earth’s history.

And he had been directly responsible for Fuxi’s death.

Now, the Astiel clan had taken Klea.

For the first time Emery considered something he had avoided acknowledging.

A deceleration of war against the Astiel.

But not recklessly.

Facing a clan of this scale demanded precision, timing, and preparation. Emery could not afford to act blindly, not when one misstep could bury him beneath the full wrath of the Nephilim.

He waited.

For an opportunity.

For either Caelthar or Ishtar to expose themselves.

And for word from Eeshoo.

Confirmation of Amarhiikk involvement—or support to his cause.

It would change everything

Days passed.

The silence gnawed at him.

As if the universe itself sensed his restraint, trouble began to surface elsewhere. Reports filtered in from Dawnstar City—multiple small clashes breaking out at the edges of his influence. The Moonlight Syndicate had begun probing again, stirring unrest.

Worse still, his apothecary business was being strangled.

Supplies delayed. Contracts revoked. Trade groups manipulated behind the scenes.

It was not subtle.

Someone was pushing back.

Emery absorbed the reports in silence, his jaw tightening with every message.

”Klea... Where are you?”

The answer came sooner than expected.

An intelligence ping rippled through VIA’s network.

Ishtar was leaving her fortress.

She was attending a grand celebration—an extravagant gathering hosted by another Astiel royal. The heir of the main branch. Her cousin.

A gathering unlike any other.

Tens of thousands of guests. Nobles, elites, faction representatives—all converging on Astiel territory.

It was far from an ideal opportunity.

The venue remained deep within Astiel-controlled territory, surrounded by layers of authority, and military oversight.

Under normal circumstances, Emery would never risk such a direct approach. Worse still, the aftermath of the Frozen Throne weighed heavily upon him. His Dark Avatar was still in recovery, its link unstable, and the strain it had endured left his spatial techniques slower, and far from their peak.

And yet, the very scale of the event offered a rare opening.

With so many guests, security would be diffused. Movement would be chaotic. Permits easier to disguise among legitimate invitations.

And Ishtar would be traveling.

Emery’s gaze hardened.

”I’m going.”

Atlas objected immediately, urging patience, suggesting that a cleaner opportunity would eventually present itself. But Emery was beyond waiting. Every moment that passed without Klea was another moment she could be moved farther beyond his reach—or silenced forever. Atlas saw the resolve in his eyes and understood that no argument would change his mind.

In the end, he followed.

With documents prepared and identities layered with enough false legitimacy to withstand casual scrutiny, the two stepped through a portal into the inner Nephilim sector, emerging within the Astiel System, on the planet Lysatheon.

Lysatheon was one of the Astiel clan’s nine planetary holdings Towering spires of crystal and alloy stretched toward the heavens, while arcane lights traced the streets below in shifting constellations.

As planned, Emery and Atlas blended seamlessly into the arriving crowds, two among tens of thousands invited to the celebration. It was a rare spectacle. Prominent figures arrived adorned in ceremonial regalia, ancient artifacts worn openly as symbols of status rather than weapons. The air itself buzzed with indulgence and excess.

”Do the Nephilim always celebrate a party like this?” Emery asked, observing the scale of it all.

”Some families have their own customs. But yes... even by Nephilim standards, this is excessive.”

It was immediately clear that the entire planet had been drawn into the festivities. Streets overflowed with revelers, aerial processions filled the skies, and illusionary displays turned the city into something resembling a living festival. And yet, this was only the prelude. The actual celebration was being held on another continent entirely, across a vast sea, where the Astiel heir resided within his personal domain.

Luxury flying vessels—sleek sky-barges and gilded boats suspended by arcane engines—waited to ferry distinguished guests across the ocean. The convoy alone was a show of wealth and power.

Emery had no intention of boarding any of them.

Atlas would remain with the procession, maintaining their cover. Meanwhile, Emery would slip away, unseen.

”I wish I could help more,” Atlas said quietly, his voice carrying a rare note of concern.

”You’ve already done enough,” Emery replied. ”This part is mine.”

With that, he dissolved into the shadows, leaving behind a simple clone to stand in his place. The city swallowed his departure without notice.