Earth's Greatest Magus

The first three rounds of the tournament had already showcased the strength and potential of the Magus participants. But now, the true test of individual power and skill would unfold through one-on-one duels. These final rounds were where magus could demonstrate their full abilities, and the anticipation in the crowd was palpable.

Standing before the gathered contestants, Magus Rosia addressed them with a stern reminder. She warned, ensuring that the duels wouldn’t devolve into reckless bloodshed.

The arena was divided into four sections, each becoming its own battlefield. The crowd roared in excitement as the first four pairs entered their respective rings, eager to witness the combat. The competitors, a mix of both full-moon and half-moon magus, readied themselves for what would be an intense display of power, agility, and tactics.

Emery watched the unfolding battles with great interest. Next to him, Shinta leaned forward, asking, “Father, which one do you think will win?”

Before Emery could respond, Klea spoke with calm certainty, “Most likely one of the full-moon realm.” Her tone was matter-of-fact, reflecting the reality of Magus tournaments. Full-moon magus possessed a significant edge in raw power. Emery nodded in agreement. Only a rare genius or seasoned veteran could overcome such odds, and those figures—like Beowulf, Silica, or Thrax—were absent from the event.

The duels commenced with a thunderous clash of weapons and spells. Emery’s sharp eyes took in the flow of the fights, noting the strengths and weaknesses of each participant. Emery’s attention was particularly drawn to the Alvanic magus, whose rapid development impressed him. Two years ago, the Alvanic people had barely touched upon the magus realm, yet now, a few among their ranks had already reached the full moon stage. These weren’t mere novices—they were veterans, battle-hardened and with a deep understanding of the law. Their growth signified the immense potential of their race, a stark contrast to the early doubts many had about their progress.

Meanwhile, the Twilight Halls, though filled with promising young magus, struggled to match the experience of their opponents. Their primary strength lay in their ability to transform, but raw power alone wasn’t enough to bridge the gap in battle wisdom and tactical acumen. Emery observed how the younger half-bloods relied too heavily on their transformation abilities, often neglecting more sophisticated techniques, leaving themselves vulnerable to exploitation by the veterans. Tatyana, the six-tailed fox who had reached the Halfmoon realm, had to accept defeat in this round.

As the tournament progressed and the pool of participants narrowed from 32 to 16, and then to the final 8, only two half-bloods remained among the top contenders. However, these two were far from ordinary—they were elite full-moon magus, each hailing from legendary bloodlines and personally recommended by the Alpha King. Amarok, a giant wolf, and Cayden, a spirit wolf.

The Alvanic magus continued to showcase their strength in the tournament, standing tall among the final contenders. Among them were two renowned full-moon magus, each a celebrated general from the Alvanic Seven Kingdoms.

These men, once bitter rivals who had fought against each other in bloody battles, now stood side by side, united under a new cause. Their transformation from adversaries to allies was a testament to the newfound strength and unity of the subterranean world. Both were known for their strategic brilliance in warfare, and it was clear they intended to bring honor to their people through their prowess in the arena.

Unfortunately for Julian, none of the Nova Roma magus had made it this far. Despite their early strong performance, their journey ended in the previous round. However, Julian showed no signs of disappointment. He remained composed, seemingly unbothered by the outcome. Emery could tell that Julian wasn’t concerned with victory in the tournament—it was something else that had brought the Roman here.

As for the remaining four spots, they were filled by Terra City forces. Three of these magus were familiar names, widely known for their exploits during the infamous pirate campaign. Their participation in this tournament only solidified their reputations as skilled warriors. However, the fourth spot drew the most attention—a mysterious half-moon magus, his face hidden behind a mask, his identity shrouded in secrecy. No one seemed to know who he was, and the crowd buzzed with speculation.

Emery, however, needed no guesses. Despite the mask and the concealed aura, he immediately recognized the figure. Yet, he chose to remain silent, watching the tournament unfold without revealing the truth.

Beside him, Klea had also picked up on the hidden identity. She cast a knowing glance at Emery, her sharp intuition coming into play once again. Meanwhile, across the stage, Thrax was growing increasingly agitated. “AARGHH!!! I am so stupid!! I should have joined, what was I thinking!!” Thrax’s fiery spirit had kept him on the edge throughout the tournament. Watching the battles, his competitive nature burned within him. The final duels ignited the arena with intensity, as the top 8 magus prepared to face off. The arena was filled with a deafening roar from the crowd, their excitement reaching a fever pitch as the matchups were revealed.

Each of the Terra magus found themselves squaring off against either a wolf half-blood or an Alvanic magus, creating a palpable sense of anticipation throughout the arena.

In the first arena, Amarok, the giant wolf half-blood, towered over his opponent, a Terra captain known for his swordsmanship. As the duel commenced, Amarok charged with a ferocious howl, the ground trembling beneath his weight. He swung his massive fists, each blow capable of sending shockwaves through the arena. In another arena, Cayden, the spirit wolf half-blood, moved with ethereal grace, disappearing into swirling mists that enveloped the arena. The audience gasped as Cayden continuously executed a perfectly timed feint, allowing him to strike at his opponent’s exposed flank. The third arena showcased the Alvanic spear generals called Gunwoo, who proved equally formidable against their Terra counterparts. With their battle-hardened experience, they executed flawless combinations of offense and defense. Their mastery of the battlefield allowed them to read their opponents’ movements, countering with deadly precision. The crowd’s roar reached a fever pitch as the mysterious masked magus stood alone, the last hope for Terra City.

Three Terra magus had already fallen to their powerful opponents, leaving the final duel as the city’s last chance at redemption. His opponent, the second Alvanic full-moon magus, had already seen his ally’s victory and was eager to claim another win, fueled by the momentum of his subterranean kin.

The masked magus, despite being only a half-moon, stood calmly as his Alvanic opponent charged. At first, the masked figure fought with direct, efficient strikes, but as the Alvanic magus adjusted, he changed tactics. Suddenly, the arena filled with swirling smoke and shifting shadows, obscuring the battlefield and confusing his adversary.

Despite the sudden shift, the Alvanic magus showed no fear. Having grown up in the dark subterranean world, shadows were no stranger to him. He moved swiftly, his blade cutting through the smoke, and with practiced precision, managed to close the gap between them.

With a gleam of triumph in his eyes, the Alvanic magus readied a critical strike. His sword glinted in the dim light as he lunged forward. “I’ve got you now!” he declared, his voice echoing through the arena.

But just as the sword was about to land, something unexpected happened. The masked magus’s power surged, his form shifting as his arms transformed into formidable claws, thick and sharp enough to meet the blade. The crowd gasped. The Alvanic magus’s confidence faltered as he saw his attack halted, the claws gripping his sword with terrifying strength.

“What? You’re… a half-blood?!” he stammered, shock spreading across his face.

Before he could react properly, the masked magus moved with blinding speed. In one fluid motion, he twisted his opponent’s sword arm, shattering it with a sickening crack. The Alvanic magus cried out in pain, but it was too late. The masked figure seized him by the throat. The audience watched in awe as the masked magus, a mere half-moon, overpowered a full-moon Alvanic general in a display of raw strength and precision.

The crowd erupted into cheers, stunned by the upset victory. “Who is he?!” echoed through the arena as the masked magus stood tall, his opponent defeated at his feet. Whispers spread among the spectators, each trying to uncover the identity of the masked warrior who had just delivered an unexpected triumph for Terra City.