Earth's Greatest Magus

“Sir!! The reinforcements are here!!”

“Thank the Gods!! Redirect all energy from the shields to the weapons! Push that motherf***er back!!”

Commander McCabe’s voice boomed through the command room, his tone filled with determination. The arrival of the elven mothership had brought disaster to the moonbase, but now hope had arrived. The room erupted into cheers as the fleet appeared from their warp drives, emerging into the vicinity of the moonbase. Unlike other forces, this fleet had a distinctive presence: their ships, made of gleaming bronze metal, were adorned with vast spires and intricate engravings of a lion. It was the Royal Imperium’s fleet—the Golden Mane. And at its center was the legendary Battlestar warship, a massive vessel nearly the size of the elven mothership, renowned for its advanced technology and devastating firepower.

The battle commenced with a barrage of high-beam cannons, followed by the Imperium’s famous lance torpedoes. Explosions illuminated the dark void of space, painting a fiery spectacle above the moonbase. Despite the elven mothership’s advanced defenses, the assault forced it to move away from its dominating position. “The Imperium is amazing! They’ve already made the elves retreat!”

Cheers rang out again in the command center. Relief was palpable among the Magus Alliance forces. However, the celebration was cut short when the mothership’s trajectory became clear. Instead of fleeing the planet, it veered toward Citadel City.

“Send a priority warning to General Wayne!!” McCabe commanded, his voice tight with urgency.

### While the battle in space escalated, the situation on the ground at Citadel City grew dire.

General Wayne and Major Kouga were forced to contend with the two dark-elven Grand Magus, Drvane and Zerytha. This was the opening Agis the Red Demon needed.

With a thunderous roar, Agis breached the city’s defensive formations. His cosmic flames surged forward like tidal waves. The three formation experts, tasked with maintaining the city’s magical barriers, were caught off guard. The flames shattered their tools, leaving them scrambling to rally a countermeasure.

One elderly formation expert managed to gather 30 magus in a last-ditch effort. They channeled their combined spirit energy into a temporary barrier, a shimmering dome that held back Agis’s flames for a few precious moments. Even so, the intensity of the assault claimed the lives of thousands within the city; their screams were lost amidst the inferno.

The Valaryn Citadel burned. The once proud stronghold now lay cloaked in black smoke, its spires crumbling under the relentless onslaught.

Fortunately, tens of thousands of wounded warriors had been evacuated to underground bunkers. The remaining defenders—thousands of saint-level warriors and a few hundred magus—stood resolute, their faces grim as they prepared for what could be their final stand.

Through the chaos, General Wayne emerged, bloodied but unbroken, his voice rising above the din of battle.

“This is it, boys!! Hold on for 10 minutes, and we’ll turn this all around!!”

“FIGHT! FIGHT! FIGHT!!”

“Hoorah!!!” the warriors responded, their voices filled with renewed determination. Shields clanged together as the defenders formed ranks, their weapons gleaming in the fiery glow of the battlefield.

####

Meanwhile, Emery faced an even more perilous situation. Targeted by one of the strongest figures on the battlefield, Grand Magus Talaro, he could only hope that the arrival of reinforcements would drive his opponent away. But Talaro’s smirk crushed that hope.

“Escape? No, no… not when you are so close in front of me! I don’t need 10 minutes… Five will be more than enough!”

As soon as the words left his lips, Talaro lunged again, his bone saber gleaming with a malevolent, icy sheen. Emery braced himself, mustering every ounce of strength and focus to block the incoming strike. The clash of their weapons reverberated like a thunderclap, sending shockwaves through the air.

Yet, despite his best efforts, Emery found himself relentlessly pummeled. Each swing of Talaro’s weapon landed with bone-crushing force, the chilling aura it exuded seeping into Emery’s body. The numbing cold spread insidiously, sapping his strength and slowing his reflexes. With every blow, his movements became more labored, his limbs stiff as ice.

Were it not for the twin lifelines of the flaming [Embernight] sword in his hand and the regenerative warmth of the [Ocean Heart Vest], Emery would have already fallen. The enchanted sword blazed with fierce defiance, its fire combating the encroaching frost, while the vest’s restorative magic knitted his wounds and warded off the paralyzing cold.

But even these aids could only do so much. Talaro, impatient with the prolonged battle, decided to end it decisively. He muttered an incantation under his breath, his free hand crackling with spatial energy. A moment later, a razor-sharp spinning wheel of concentrated space magic materialized, hovering ominously above his palm. With a flick of his wrist, Talaro unleashed the deadly spell.

The whirling blade tore through Emery’s guard, its sheer force disarming him. The [Embernight] sword was ripped from his grasp, its fiery glow extinguished as it skittered across the ground, far out of reach. The spatial wheel sliced through his defenses, narrowly missing his arm but leaving him battered and exposed.

Defenseless, bruised, and utterly spent, Emery stumbled backward. His vision blurred, and his breaths came in ragged gasps. He knew he had no way to escape Talaro’s grasp now. The Grand Magus loomed over him, triumphant and merciless, raising his saber for the final blow.

But then, the ground beneath Emery’s feet trembled violently. A deep, guttural rumble echoed through the battlefield, growing louder and closer. Before Talaro could strike, the earth erupted in an explosion of sand and stone.

A massive sandworm, its segmented body glistening and armored, burst forth from the ground. The colossal creature charged at Talaro with terrifying speed, its cavernous maw agape.

“This DAMN BEAST!!”

The Grand Magus was forced to leap back, his expression shifting from smug confidence to wary surprise.

Staggering to his feet, Emery stared at the monstrous sandworm in shock. Initially, he thought its appearance was mere coincidence—a random creature drawn to the chaos of battle. But then, the ground quivered again, and a swarm of insects emerged, their movements coordinated and purposeful, overwhelming Talaro and the dark elves’ magus around him with sheer numbers.

Emery’s spirit-reading ability flickered to life, and he sensed a faint but unmistakable message. It wasn’t conveyed through words but through a deep, instinctual resonance—a declaration of returning a favor.

“Its princess Miriel.”