Earth's Greatest Magus

Excalibur’s brilliance was unparalleled, its luminescence bathing the arena in a heavenly glow. Gwen felt the blade’s power seeping into her, each pulse infusing her with strength and clarity. This newfound might allow her to stand undaunted, despite the overwhelming odds of facing two adversaries simultaneously.

The Kronos saint unleashed a deathly battle art. His axe blazed to life, becoming a roaring inferno that threatened to consume everything in its path. With a guttural roar, he hurled the burning weapon towards Gwen.

Time seemed to slow as Gwen met the fiery assault. Excalibur danced in her hand, not with desperation but with a tranquil grace. With a deceptively simple arc, the blade met the axe head-on. The impact was cataclysmic. A shockwave of energy cascaded from the point of contact, culminating in a massive explosion that sent the saint hurtling skyward, his axes were shattered.

Whispers of awe rippled through the crowd. “What manner of sword possesses such power?” The attendees, seasoned warriors and young aspirants alike exchanged glances of wonder and disbelief. Even the magus that came with Zeus stared with wide-eyed reverence.

Yet amidst the collective admiration, one man was far from impressed. The sixth saint observed the spectacle with a smirk, his eyes never leaving Gwen. The air around him seemed to thicken with tension as he drew his shadowy spear, its dark aura in stark contrast to Excalibur’s radiant glow.

As he charged at Gwen, their weapons met in a clash that defied the natural order. It wasn’t just metal striking metal; it was a collision of legacy. The resultant ripples in space, visible to the naked eye, attested to the magnitude of the forces at play. The arena itself seemed to groan under the strain, as if struggling to contain the sheer power of their confrontation.

The direness of Gwen’s situation resonated deeply with Arthur, prompting a visceral reaction. He knew that their formation had served them well, but it was time for drastic measures. Summoning all the finesse he’d honed over the years, he invoked [sword stream], a technique unique to the Britannian lineage. A ballet of sharpness unfolded, each motion perfectly coordinated.

The initial six strikes were precise, designed to gauge the opponents and keep them on their toes. Doubling his efforts, the next dozen strikes were a blur, pushing the limits of what the human eye could track. But the crescendo of his performance was the final 18 strikes, each one outpacing its predecessor, carrying the weight of his determination.

The onslaught was enough to stagger the saints, creating the window of opportunity his allies desperately needed. Marc and Octavius seized the moment with synchronized perfection. They lunged, shields and weapons at the ready, a testament to the training they received under Julian’s guidance from the Magus universe. Their moves, [Shield bash] and [Power strike], were executed with lethal precision, leaving the enemy’s defenses in tatters.

Damo, drawing from the very essence of his being, channeled light energy, so potent it seemed to manifest physically. Merging his spiritual prowess with martial skill, he unleashed a barrage of 18 palm strikes. Each one was imbued with the light’s purifying power, and when the last strike connected, it marked the defeat of the four saints.

But as the dust settled, the atmosphere was far from celebratory. Arthur’s gaze was fixed on the epicenter of the arena’s most intense clash. He called out to Gwen, his voice strained with concern. Yet as he rushed towards her, an invisible barrier of pure energy repelled him. The magnitude of the ongoing clash between Gwen and the sixth man made approaching them nearly impossible.

“What kind of power is this”!  Arthur exclaimed, both awed and frustrated.

The onlookers could only watch in rapt attention, witnessing a battle that transcended the norm. The sheer power of Excalibur clashing with the dark Spear was monumental, each weapon holding its own.

But weapons are only as good as their wielders. And the tides soon began to turn against Gwen. Her body, though fortified by Excalibur’s power, began to falter. With each parry and counter, the strain grew evident. Blood, a stark contrast against her pale skin, began to trickle from her mouth.

The sixth man, sensing victory, let out a triumphant laugh. His confidence was palpable.

“Hahahah, my spear will not lose!! Not again!!”  He declared, his voice echoing with conviction.

Emery’s eyes narrowed as he observed the unfolding events. Every movement, every word, every clash of metal brought back memories from the past. The way the sixth man fought, the manner in which he wielded that spear—it was unmistakably familiar. 

“Of course…” he whispered to himself, a rush of old memories and emotions flooding back. The sixth man, seemingly just another saint, was none other than Hades, a Magus. Emery’s mind raced back to that fateful battle eight years ago, where the Eternal Spear and Excalibur clashed in a dance of power and precision.

The arena was filled with gasps of disbelief and shock as Gwen, despite her valiant efforts and the support of Excalibur, was pushed beyond her limits. Her knees buckled, and she crumpled to the ground, blood staining the sand beneath her.

Seizing the moment, Arthur and the others—Marc, Octavius, and Damo—dashed forward in a bid to protect their fallen comrade. However, their valiance was met with the cold ruthlessness of Hades. With a casual flick of his spear, he sent them flying, their bodies colliding with the ground with a brutal thud, leaving them wounded and incapacitated.

Gloating, Hades looked around, his voice dripping with mockery. “Is this truly the best Earth has to offer? What a joke” He then turned his attention back to Gwen, his intentions clear. He intended to finish what he had started.

Emery had seen enough, every fiber of his being screamed for him to intervene, to end this farce of a duel.

Yet, before he could make his move, a new figure leaped into the fray. Julian, with a fury and determination in his eyes, intervened. Drawing his tier 5 [Titan Shield], he managed to parry Hades’ lethal strike, the resonating clang echoing throughout the arena.

“That’s enough!” Julian’s voice boomed, his posture defiant, every inch the leader and protector. Pointing his sword accusingly at Hades, he declared, “This duel is tainted with deceit! You are no saint. You are a Magus!”

The atmosphere in the arena grew thick with tension, each spectator awaiting what would come next. The clash between the might of Earth and the trickery of Kronos had just taken an unexpected turn.

Hades’ grin never wavered, even in the face of Julian’s challenge. “‘Well. I am not in my magus form, so I am not doing anything wrong”

Before Julian could retort, a deep voice resonated throughout the arena, capturing the attention of all present. It was Zeus, He cast a sidelong glance at Hades, a smirk forming on his lips, before turning his full attention to Julian.

“Technically, he isn’t wrong, young Earthlink. While you may have noble intentions, your interference has breached the sanctity of this duel. you really shouldn’t do that”

Julian’s fists clenched, veins popping on his temples as the sheer audacity of Zeus’ statement washed over him. It was maddening to hear such hypocrisy from beings humans once worshipped. These so-called deities seemed more intent on asserting dominance and causing harm than on maintaining the honor of battle.

Steeling himself, Julian took a deep breath, channeling his frustrations into a more focused resolve. He raised his sword, its blade reflecting the determination in his eyes. 

“If fight is what you want, I will give you one!!” 

As Julian’s defiant declaration echoed throughout the arena, the atmosphere thickened with tension. A new sense of unity emerged among the warriors of Earth. From the sidelines, two prominent figures advanced, their movements synchronized, their determination evident. Fjolnir, the Northern king, and the esteemed Abbot stepped into the arena’s sands, standing shoulder to shoulder with Julian. Their united front was a testament to their willingness to stand up against any threat.

Zeus, however, seemed thoroughly amused. His boisterous laughter rang out, the sound grating to the ears of every Earth warrior.  ‘It’s wonderful to see you try”

Nonchalantly, Zeus retreated a few steps, motioning to the imposing group of magus accompanying him. “Ah, decisions, decisions,” Zeus mused aloud, feigning a contemplative look. “Which among my trusted Magus should grace you with their presence in battle Hephaestus the god of smith, Artemis God of Hunting, Hermes god of Travel, Dionysus God of Wild, or Demeter?”

They were a force to be reckoned with – three with the power of crescent moons and two of half-moons.

The situation was dire, but just as the oppressive atmosphere seemed to peak, a new challenger made his entrance. A young knight boldly stepped forth. With an unyielding gaze, he declared, “Why not all of you at the same time?”

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