Earth's Greatest Magus

The assassin leader’s voice was strained but steady as he spoke, “We are bound by our contract…” Despite the conviction in his words, there was a hesitation in his tone, a subtle crack in his resolve.

Hearing this, Emery readied his stance, his claws gleaming under the faint light as he growled, “Fight to the death, then.”

The assassin leader flinched but abruptly added, “Wait… There… there is a way to end the contract…”

Emery narrowed his golden eyes “How?”

The leader hesitated, glancing at his remaining comrades, before he explained. His words were cautious, each one weighed carefully as though he feared saying too much. Once Emery had the information, he paused. Though his instincts screamed at him to remain on guard, he signaled for a temporary ceasefire.

Minutes later, a surge of cosmic energy announced the arrival of the elderly Grand Magus Stolt. Descending from the sky, his robe billowed around him like a storm cloud, and in his arms was the limp, unconscious body of Baldoni, the alchemist master.

Stolt’s gaze swept over the scene, lingering on the tense assassins before settling on Emery. “I see you two have reached some sort of… arrangement,” he said, a wry smile tugging at his lips.

“Wake him up,” Emery commanded, his voice cutting through the silence like a blade.

Stolt tilted his head, an amused glint in his eyes, before flicking his wrist. A pulse of cosmic energy surged from his palm, striking Baldoni square in the chest. The alchemist jolted awake with a gasp, his eyes wide and frantic.

The man stirred with a gasp, his earlier arrogance nowhere to be found. Terror replaced his bravado as his eyes darted frantically around the room.

“Don’t kill me! Don’t kill me!” he pleaded, his voice trembling. “I was wrong! Please, I beg you!”

The alchemist’s fear deepened as he realized Stolt was deferring to Emery, not intervening. His desperate gaze locked onto Emery, and he began groveling.

Emery stepped forward, his towering half-beast form illuminated by a faint, otherworldly glow. The alchemist recoiled, trembling as if Death itself had come to claim him.

Before Emery could act, Stoltz sent him a mental message.

Emery replied, his tone firm but respectful.

Emery leaned in closer, his golden eyes piercing into Baldoni’s. “Hand over the token”

The alchemist reached into his storage ring and retrieved a crescent-shaped metal token. Its dark, ominous surface seemed to pulse faintly, exuding a sinister aura.

“This… this is the token,” Baldoni said, his voice barely above a whisper.

The token bore the mark of the Moon Shard Society, an infamous organization known for its clandestine operations, including assassination. This token represented the contract binding the assassins to their mission. By returning it, along with their payment, the contract could be voided.

Stoltz observed the exchange with keen interest but said nothing. Despite the potential to overpower the assassins with Stoltz’s assistance, Emery had a different plan.

The assassins, though deadly, weren’t just killers—they were also information brokers. Emery had a job for them, one that required discretion and efficiency.

Just as the assassins prepared to leave, Emery’s voice stopped them.

“Wait.” Emery’s golden eyes bore into him. “I wish to hire your group for a job.”

The leader’s expression shifted, surprise flickering across his face. The Moon Shard Society had a reputation for confidentiality, which made it ideal for sensitive tasks. Emery sent a mental message outlining his request.

The leader’s eyes widened as he considered the proposition. “It’s… possible,” he said cautiously. “But a job like that will require a significant payment upfront.”

Emery didn’t even blink. He turned to Baldoni, who was still trembling at his feet.

“You don’t mind lending me some money, do you?”

The alchemist’s face turned pale, but he dared not protest. His trembling hands reached into his storage ring, retrieving several credit notes. Each note was valued at 10 million spirit stones, and Emery accepted them without hesitation.

The transaction was swift and efficient. Once the payment was completed, Emery was handed an identical token to signify the contract between them.

“Good,” Emery said, his tone firm but composed. “I expect you to fulfill my request within one month. I will be waiting at the capital.”

Before the assassins departed, Emery released the captured soul of one of their fallen comrades. It was a rare gesture of respect, one not lost on the leader of the group.

The assassin leader, a man who radiated a silent yet deadly presence, stepped forward. Bowing slightly, he introduced himself. “I am Thirteen,” he said, his voice calm but laced with gratitude. “I will not forget this.”

Emery inclined his head, acknowledging the sentiment. With that, the assassins disappeared into the shadows, leaving the battlefield eerily quiet.

With the assassins gone, Emery turned his attention back to Baldoni. The alchemist was still kneeling, his hands clasped together as he begged for his life.

“Please… you promised not to kill me!” Baldoni cried, his voice cracking. “I swear I’ll never seek revenge! Just let me go!”

Stoltz, who had been observing the scene with mild curiosity, waved a hand dismissively. “He’s all yours. Do what you will.”

Hearing this, Baldoni’s pleas grew more desperate. He prostrated himself before Emery, begging for forgiveness. But Emery had seen enough of human desperation to know that letting Baldoni go would only invite future trouble.

With a flick of his hand, Emery unleashed a surge of spirit energy, striking Baldoni. Then, with a swift motion, he opened a spatial tear leading to his domain. The alchemist’s limp body was cast inside, his fate to be decided later.

“Are you finished?” Stoltz asked, his tone dry but curious.

Emery nodded, turning back to the elderly magus.

Stoltz’s eyes gleamed with curiosity as he studied Emery. “A fey, an alchemist master, and a spatial user… Who exactly are you?”