Earth's Greatest Magus

Using his divine sense, Emery quickly calculated the sheer size of the oncoming threat—550 orcs within a 3-mile radius, all fully armed orc warriors, each towering over twice the height of a human. Muscular and brimming with savage bloodlust, their snarling forms tore through the sandy haze, making their ferocity palpable even from afar. The sight alone was enough to make even seasoned warriors waver.

Magus Vorlax, upon seeing the horde, was visibly concerned. “There are too many of them… Let my team handle this,” he insisted.

But Emery stood firm, cutting him off. “No, Sergeant. This is why we are here.”

With Emery holding the higher rank, Vorlax had no choice but to follow his command. Yet as the acolytes readied themselves the sergeant realized that Emery and the two magus accompanying him remained motionless, opting to let the young acolytes take the lead.

“Sir, this is too much for them. Please allow me to assist,” Vorlax insisted, a hint of desperation in his voice. It was evident that he understood the gravity of the situation—these acolytes were the future elite from the Magus Academy, and the potential loss of any of them might bring him trouble with his superior.

Yet Emery remained resolute, asserting, “No. Stay back and observe.”

Hardy, taking charge as the platoon leader, quickly assessed the situation and ordered the acolytes into a defensive formation. He positioned the insectoid group at the forefront, with Blaine as the vanguard. On the flanks, Titus and Armenius commanded their squads of ten, while Evalice, held the rear with her team. Hardy stayed in the center with Kingrig and Ha Ron, the team’s strongest, ready to provide support wherever the line might need reinforcement.

“FIGHT!” he bellowed, rallying the acolytes to face the incoming horde.

The acolytes launched into action, casting a barrage of spells to halt the oncoming wave. Each squad had acolytes in assigned positions. Some cast defensive spells that erupted from the earth, with walls of stone and twisting vines rising to impede the orcs’ approach. Others unleashed offensive magic and weapon techniques—fireballs, lightning arcs, bladed whirls—all aimed at striking down the leading orcs

BAM! BAM! BAM!

Explosions rocked the field, mingling with the guttural cries of the orcs as dozens fell, immobilized, or slain in the initial onslaught. Yet despite the initial impact, the horde surged forward, undeterred. More orcs pushed past the fallen, charging directly at the formation with wild bloodlust. The acolytes could feel the weight of their ferocity bearing down on them as the front line struggled to hold.

“HOLD THE LINE!” Hardy shouted, his voice cutting through the din.

All acolytes braced as the orcs closed the distance, steel meeting flesh as they engaged in brutal close combat.

The second wave hit harder—not because the orcs were any different, but because this was the young acolytes’ first encounter with a real, relentless assault by orcs.

These orcs were much stronger than those faced in virtual training, and their killing intent affected the acolytes’ minds. Even those who had trained rigorously felt a pang of fear as the sheer weight and ferocity of the orcs bore down on them.

The orcs were brutal and unyielding; each swing of their weapons—saber or axe—threatened to cut them to pieces.

Some acolytes staggered under the pressure, eyes wide and breaths shallow as they struggled to hold their ground. But amid the chaos, those with more battle experience held firm, their movements confident and their spells precise, anchoring the line.

Hardy’s voice rang out like a lifeline. “Get up! Fight!” he shouted, rallying them with a commanding tone that cut through the roars of battle.

He monitored the line closely, scanning for weak spots. Whenever a section showed signs of faltering, he acted swiftly, sending reinforcements from his squad to fill the gaps. Hardy’s sharp commands sent Kingrig and Ha Ron forward at critical moments. The two acolytes struck, slashing through orcs to support their comrades. The struggling acolytes steadied themselves, inspired by the sight of their strongest members holding the line. They gritted their teeth, forcing back their fear, and threw themselves into the fight with renewed determination. It took about 15 minutes and half of the orc’s forces before the young acolytes finally found their footing. The once hesitant, trembling hands now wielded weapons with purpose, their spells and techniques landing with precision as they pushed back the horde. Watching from a distance, Magus Siiri and Sergeant Vorlax were visibly impressed by the scene unfolding before them.

“Magus Emery, you’ve trained them well,” Siiri remarked.

“Thank you,” Emery replied, acknowledging her praise while also making sure to credit Klea for her significant contributions to their training.

Sergeant Vorlax, however, looked far from reassured. His brows furrowed as he glanced out at the thinning horde, anxiety etched in every line on his face.”Sir, we need to quickly leave this area… or more will come,” he urged, his voice tinged with urgency.

Emery, however, remained unfazed, a confident smile on his face as he focused on the battlefield. In fact, he already sensed another horde advancing from ten miles away, their numbers at least three times greater than the current forces.

Without a hint of concern, he called Hardy over and relayed the information.

“You know what to do?” Emery asked, the grin on his face revealing both confidence and a hint of challenge.

“Yes, master!” Following Emery’s command, Hardy immediately took control, driving the acolytes to clean up the remaining orcs with a newfound intensity, striking down their foes swiftly until the horde was no more. Then, with a sharp call, Hardy ordered the squad to regroup on the sandboat.

Magus Vorlax and Magus Siiri exchanged looks, expecting a retreat from the battlefield. But to their surprise, Hardy instead directed the sand boat towards a new location—a high ridge flanked by rugged stone cliffs, a perfect strategic position for facing the coming wave.

With calculated efficiency, Hardy stationed each squad at vantage points, creating a defensive perimeter that would allow them to repel even larger numbers of enemies.

The sergeant’s eyes widened at the sight “Sir, with all due respect… we’re a logistics team; we should leave while we still can.”

But Emery only gave a calm smile. ‘No need to worry, Sergeant. A few hours’ delay won’t hurt.’ He then turned to Magus Siiri and casually said, ‘Please count it properly.’

Magus Siiri was startled, realizing Emery’s intentions. It was clear that Emery wasn’t simply allowing his students to gain experience; he was setting them up to face a larger threat to earn more academy points.”