Earth's Greatest Magus

“It’s done!!”

Dopa, the muscular combat grand magus, bellowed in satisfaction as his massive form loomed over the broken ruins of the elven watchtower. Standing at an imposing 6 meters tall, he had crushed the crystal that powered the barrier, the key to their enemy’s defense. Thousands of elven warriors, their dark eyes gleaming with a vengeance, formed a dense ring around the massive combatant. Among them were dozens of magus-level fighters, fierce and undeterred, their voices rising in unison.

“They destroyed the barrier!! Kill that giant!!” The commanding voice rang out, and with swift coordination, the elven magus began chanting, unleashing powerful combined spells. A few formed defensive shields while others, more daring, prepared offensive strikes, sending bolts of lightning and blasts of fire hurtling toward Dopa’s towering form.

Yet, despite the overwhelming number of elves, Dopa remained unphased. With a roar of defiance, he summoned his battlefield domain—a crackling aura of raw power that surged outward, weakening the surrounding enemies and disorienting them. The magic of the battlefield pressed against the elven forces, and their once-coordinated spells began to falter, their accuracy lost in the oppressive aura.

“Ha! Nothing but fodder!” Dopa taunted, his voice rumbling like thunder. With each swing of his massive fists, he obliterated any elf who dared approach. One punch sent a magus hurtling back, limbs twisting unnaturally as they collided with the ground. Another swing landed with an explosive impact, shattering bones and armor alike. Bodies piled at his feet, and the elves found themselves ensnared in a deadly dance, struggling to evade his blows while facing the drain of his suppressive domain.

“Hahaha! Come here! You elven bastards!”

On the fractured remains of the walls, an elven squad leader maneuvered a massive, high-grade blaster cannon into position, its barrel humming with deadly energy. The weapon, powerful enough to tear through warships, had locked onto its new target. The cannon’s blast shot out with precision, a pulse of searing light hurtling toward Dopa and slamming into him with explosive force.

BAMMM!!!

The impact was devastating, and for the first time, the towering combat grand magus staggered back, dropping to one knee as pain racked his immense form.

“Urghh… That hurts!” Dopa growled, gritting his teeth.

“Shoot again!! Shoot!! Kill him!!” Cheered the elves crowd.

A second blast was primed, and Dopa braced himself, his form glowing with defensive energy. But just as the elven squad leader’s finger pressed down, his face contorted, his eyes unfocused, and his aim faltered. The cannon barrel swung abruptly, not toward Dopa, but back into the lines of his own comrades.

“No! No!!, Captain, what are you doing!? NOOO!”

KABOOOOM!!

The cannon unleashed a fiery shot, ripping through the ranks of his own men. Several dark elf magus were vaporized in the searing blast, while others nearby were hurled into the air, charred and screaming. The scene turned to utter chaos as smoke and dust engulfed the area. The surviving elves stared in disbelief and horror, realizing too late that their own captain had turned on them.

Behind it all, was Grand Magus Helga. Using her formidable soul attack, she had breached the captain’s mind, twisting his thoughts and forcing him to attack his own. With grim satisfaction, she watched as her mental assault achieved its deadly purpose. Both she and Dopa had done their parts—the barrier was down, and the elven defenses were breaking under the onslaught of confusion and fear. Helga scanned the battlefield, her senses alert. The havoc they’d created had bought them precious time, but something felt wrong, and a prickle of foreboding crawled down her spine. Her spirit sense expanded, and from the west, she detected an approaching force, far larger and more organized than anticipated.

“We need to go. Now!” Helga urged, her voice tense with urgency.

Dopa, still relishing the destruction, swung his massive fist at a nearby group of elves, a wicked grin on his face. “No! Not yet! Let me kill a few dozen more!”

“Major, listen!” Helga’s voice was laced with warning. “Something is wrong. Reinforcements—they’re coming in much sooner than we expected!”

Dopa paused, the bloodlust in his eyes flickering with a momentary hint of concern.

####

A dozen miles away from the wall, atop the strategic heights of Soleo Mountain, the tension thickened as Emery and the two Valaryn grand magus faced a new threat. They had been holding their ground against relentless waves of elite elven forces when the second elven grand magus—the one who was originally stationed to defend the walls—suddenly turned their focus toward them. It was unexpected; rather than attempting to reinforce their own commander or defend the crumbling wall, these new arrivals seemed intent on targeting the Valaryn grand magus. Emery’s gaze sharpened, quickly shifting from the scarred, battle-hardened grand magus leading the charge to a figure issuing orders with calm and deadly authority: a female dark elf with a cold, calculating smile.

He identifies her immediately—Azula Raine, one of Azrazel’s highest-ranking officers, infamous for her intelligence and tactical capability. Even amid the chaos, her eyes gleamed with amusement as she said.

“This is great!! I can’t believe that Princess Miriel of Valaryn herself has graced us with a visit!” she taunted, her voice carrying a mocking warmth. “Well then…” Azula chuckled, her smile widening, “Catch her! Once we have her, this planet will be ours in a week!”

Azula Raine’s audacious command to capture the princess only heightened Emery’s unease. He questioned if her confidence came from the strength of her commander—or if there was another, hidden advantage she hadn’t yet revealed.

The arrival of the scarred, battle-hardened grand magus only escalated the pressure, his power bolstering the elven forces and quickly overwhelming both Grand Magus Archie and Princess Miriel.

Archie, determined to shield the princess, bore the brunt of the assault. He fought valiantly, but the strain was evident. His once-glorious battlefield domain flickered under the relentless waves of attacks, and, weakened by the onslaught, he staggered back, finally forced to deactivate his domain entirely. This brief falter allowed an unending stream of elven soldiers to flood the entrance hall, dark forms filling every crevice and cutting off routes of escape.

Sensing the imminent danger, Emery turned to Princess Miriel. “We should leave Now!!”

But the princess, her eyes fierce and determined, shook her head. “Not yet!” she replied firmly, her voice resonating with defiance. “Not until we complete the mission!”

Her resolve was admirable, but Emery knew the clock was ticking. With each second, the elven reinforcements encroached further, and if they didn’t move swiftly, the entire operation could turn disastrous.