Earth's Greatest Magus

Chapter 2617: Dream

A strange hush fell over the coliseum.

The crowd—moments ago roaring at the flashes of magic and fury—now held its breath. The chaos had vanished. No more fire, no more thunder, no more resistance. Only eerie silence.

On the arena floor, Klea stood still like a statue, her wide eyes vacant, her limbs frozen. Across from her, Morpheus strolled forward with mocking ease.

He even turned to the crowd and waved—his expression smug, as though he’d already won.

Then he raised his arm.

BAM!

The crack echoed through the coliseum like a thunderclap. His palm struck Klea across the face with a brutal slap. Her body flew across the arena like a ragdoll, slamming hard into the stone floor. Blood sprayed from her mouth. She coughed violently, eyes blinking back into awareness as the sting grounded her into reality.

But she barely had time to breathe.

Morpheus’ eyes ignited again, blazing with a purplish light. Her pupils dilated, and she gasped softly. Her expression twisted... then softened. The agony vanished. A smile returned to her lips, gentle, peaceful, as if everything she had just endured was forgotten. She was under his spell once again.

The arena trembled—not from power, but from the collective unease rippling through the audience.

From the elevated Earth faction platform, Thrax shouted in fury. ”Bastard!! He’s toying with her!”

He whirled to face the others. ”Let me take her place. I’ll gut that smug bastard where he stands!”

Julian’s jaw was clenched so tightly it looked like it might shatter. ”The duel rules... Unless she’s incapacitated, only the fighter can surrender. We can’t override it unless she agrees.

Thrax’s hands curled into fists. ”How is she supposed to say anything when she’s not even conscious?!”

Julian’s voice shook with bitter rage. ”This is what they wanted—to make us watch her suffer!”

On the battlefield, Morpheus struck again. This time, a fist drove deep into Klea’s stomach.

BAAMM!!

Her body folded around the blow before she was hurled across the arena. She landed with a sickening crack, rolled twice, and lay still. Blood pooled beneath her. The crowd winced, some cheering, others turning away.

And still... she moved.

Klea groaned, forced her hands beneath her, and slowly stood up once more.

Morpheus laughed. ”You’re one stubborn woman. Still trying to break out of my Delirium Dream?”

The Kronos faction applauded. They were enjoying the spectacle. Some laughed, others drank to her misery. In contrast, the Earth faction seethed, helpless to intervene.

The audience was divided—some enchanted by the brutality, others feeling a growing discomfort. Murmurs of sympathy rippled through the stands.

”We can’t let this continue!” Thrax roared again.

This time, Julian nodded grimly. ”You’re right. We must stop this!!”

This was the only way.

If anyone from the Earth faction stepped into the arena, even out of desperation, Klea would be instantly disqualified. Worse, the faction would suffer a severe backlash from the examiner panel and lose the respect of the entire coliseum. Interference meant forfeiture, dishonor, and humiliation. 𝘙𝙖𝐍О𐌱ЁŞ

And yet... Thrax and Julian were ready to do it anyway.

They couldn’t bear to watch Klea suffer any longer.

However, just as their feet moved toward the edge of the platform, an energy force stopped them.

Morgana.

Her voice slipped into their minds like a breath of wind.

”Plan?” Julian asked, stunned. ”What plan?”

They turned back to the arena in disbelief.

Thrax muttered, ”She’s half-dead out there. What plan could she possibly—”

But Julian’s eyes narrowed. Then, slowly, a crooked smile spread across his lips.

”Heh... hahah. We’ve been fooled.”

In the arena below, Morpheus had already launched his illusion again, shrouding the bloodied Klea in his signature haze. His purple eyes glowed as he casually approached her collapsed form, lifting one arm toward the audience in a lazy flourish, basking in the crowd’s anticipation of his ”victory.”

He never realized that, this time, the illusion had failed.

Klea’s fingers twitched.

Her chest rose with a deep, steady breath.

Then she smiled.

Before Morpheus could react, she began chanting. Her voice was weak—but steady. Ancient words spilled from her lips.

Morpheus turned sharply, eyes widening in disbelief.

”You—?!”

With a flick of her wrist, Klea threw six shimmering artifacts into the air. They arced like falling stars and embedded themselves in six precise locations around the arena.

Six flags, etched with symbols that pulsed like breathing starlight.

The moment they struck the ground, the arena ignited with radiant lines of energy.

WHOOM.

A web of glowing runes spiraled outward from each flag. Symbols blazed across the floor, walls, and even into the air. It was not one formation—multiple, all interwoven. Harmonized. Activated in perfect unison.

Morpheus staggered. His body jolted as invisible forces gripped him.

His wings flared, his limbs strained—but nothing moved. His body was bound.

”What...? How?!” he roared, struggling against the invisible restraints.

The audience gasped in shock.

Those who understood formations went pale.

This wasn’t just one array. There were at least a dozen of them, all triggered in tandem, layered together through the six flags. At minimum, they were Tier 6 arrays—but the way they were linked, orchestrated... they had formed a Tier 7 macro-array—a feat most wouldn’t even attempt.

And the medium?

Klea’s broken blades and her blood.

More murmurs rose throughout the crowd.

Klea had fooled them all—pretending to be helpless while quietly carving runes with her own blood, positioning fragments of her shattered sword, preparing for a strike that would catch the spirit master off guard.

As for the artifacts themselves, they were no ordinary formation tools.

They were the Heavenly Arrays, a treasure once wielded by Fuxi. And now, Klea has successfully operated six at once.

The moment the realization hit, the crowd erupted in a wave of astonishment.

Gasps rippled across the coliseum.

”She’s a formation master!”

”Another high-grade treasure... Earth has two?!”

Their perception of the Earth faction shifted in an instant. No longer a desperate band of survivors, they were now seen as cunning and resourceful.

Morpheus, meanwhile, was seething.

”NO! This cannot hold me!” he roared.

His massive wings burst open with a thunderous flap, stirring up fierce winds that howled through the arena. His spirit power surged in waves, his eyes glowing a brilliant violet as he launched a barrage of mental and physical attacks.

One to pressure the formation, another to pressure the caster.

The runes groaned, and Klea clenched her jaw as the backlash hit her like a hammer. The strain of maintaining the array network was already immense, but now she had to endure the psychic assault of a full-moon spirit master.

Her knees buckled slightly.

But she didn’t falter.

Instead, she pulled out a slender silver brush—the Lotus Pen. Without hesitation, she etched a glowing glyph across her own forehead.

A brilliant rune flared to life, casting silver light across her face.

”You really are strong...” she exhaled. ”I had to double reinforce my enhancements to stay conscious.”

The radiant rune on her brow shimmered—an ancient sigil of protection woven specifically to defend against mental intrusions.

That was how she had resisted his illusions all along.

Morpheus’s eyes widened in disbelief.

”With that enchantment... you could break free anytime from my dream spell? But then why—?! Why do you endure so long..”.

Klea gave him a tired, almost playful smile.

”You made a beautiful dream,” she said softly. ”I was... enjoying it. Too bad it wasn’t real.”

She took in a deep breath, blood trickling from the corner of her mouth, and whispered,

”I want you to know... this is very personal.”

The moment she finished the sentence, she snapped her fingers.

Six lances of light surged from each point, converging on Morpheus. Elemental fury erupted—earth, fire, lightning, ice, wind, and water smashed him from all directions.

Morpheus screamed as the assaults tore into his defenses. He writhed, limbs restrained, spirit energy unraveling under the sheer precision of the bombardment.

But Klea didn’t stop

Another wave of energy surged through the array; his screams echoed across the coliseum.

At last, his struggling ceased.

Charred, drained, and broken, Morpheus slumped within the glowing bindings of the array—defeated, barely conscious.

A moment of stunned silence fell upon the crowd...

The judge raised a hand.

”Winner... Klea of the Earth Faction.”

Thunderous applause follows, erupting like a quake.