Earth's Greatest Magus

After receiving critical information from the Moonshard Society, Emery learned of a group of travelers detained at the Northern Wall. This revelation coincided with a mystery he had been tracking—the disappearance of two masters from the Azure Cloud faction, who were known to have been posted in the same area. The connection was too significant to ignore.

Driven by this lead, Emery approached a contact in the society, a shadowy figure known only as “Sixteen.” He requested a new job, one that could provide him with deeper insight into the happenings at the Northern Wall. However, Sixteen’s usual calm demeanor seemed to falter. His tone carried a tone of caution as he replied.

“We have received the same job before… It cost us many casualties. I’ll tell you this much for free: something is happening at the Northern Wall. The supreme beings are covering it up.”

The weight of Sixteen’s words hung in the air, but Emery remained undeterred. His instincts told him that the detained travelers were from the Magus realm, his homeland. The mention of a familiar faction name, the Karat faction, solidified his resolve. Among their ranks was Rosin Karat, a supreme being who had long been presumed missing. Emery believed this individual could only be the Karat Patriarch—great-grandfather to Tessa Karat.

The thought sparked a glimmer of hope. Perhaps there was a way back to the Magus realm after all, and If this individual was indeed the Rosin Karat he knew, Emery might gain a powerful ally capable of paving the way for his return home. He needed to confirm the connection and meet the detained travelers, no matter the cost.

“I’ll pay any amount… Tell me a number,” Emery said, his voice firm with determination.

Sixteen hesitated. Finally, he spoke, his tone guarded.

“I will convey your request to my superior.”

Before Emery could push further, the enigmatic man melded into the shadows and disappeared.

“With how quickly they operate, I guess I can afford to wait,” Emery muttered, though patience was not his strong suit.

####

While awaiting word from the Moonshard Society, Emery decided to pursue another lead: the Pardera Third Prince. Three weeks ago, Emery had met the prince during a brief encounter in the border city. The prince had extended an invitation to visit the palace and now seemed like the right time to follow up.

The next morning, Emery and Soltz set out for the Pardera Palace, a sprawling fortress of opulence that towered over the city. The architecture was an elegant blend of ancient stone and intricate metalwork. Massive, ornate gates—each guarded by stern-faced soldiers—led to a series of courtyards.

Passing through the outer gates required navigating the labyrinthine bureaucracy of Tartarus, where connections and bribes held more sway than rank or merit. Unless one came from a prestigious faction, access to higher officials was nearly impossible.

At one of the checkpoints, a portly official in flowing crimson robes eyed them lazily. His plump fingers toyed with a gilded quill as he asked, “What is your business here?”

“I’ve come to see the Third Prince,” Emery replied, his tone measured but firm.

The official raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. “The prince, you say? And what makes you think he’ll see you?”

“I met him three weeks ago in the border city,” Emery explained. “He invited me to visit.”

The man’s expression shifted to one of skepticism. “Do you have any proof of this so-called invitation?”

“I don’t,” Emery admitted. “But I am telling the truth.”

The official leaned back in his chair, the ornate fabric of his robe straining slightly against his bulk. “Alright, then. Write a note. I’ll have it delivered to the prince, and you can wait for his reply.”

Irritation flared within Emery, but he held his tongue. The official’s lack of cooperation was infuriating, but causing a scene would only complicate matters. He begrudgingly followed the procedure and prepared to wait. To his dismay, the official informed him that it could take up to three days to receive a response.

“What the hell…” Emery muttered under his breath.

As they exited the gate, Soltz chuckled, his laughter carrying a mocking edge that grated on Emery’s nerves. “This is how things work in Tartarus,” the old man remarked smugly. “You’re a nobody here. That’s why you should’ve followed the prince when he asked. I bet he doesn’t even remember you now. Hah!”

Emery clenched his jaw but remained silent, focusing on the situation at hand. To avoid any unnecessary complications, he instructed Shinta to limit her movements outside the mansion to an absolute minimum. Then, he waited—one day, two days—but no word came from the Moonshard Society or the prince.

On the fourth day, Emery returned to the imposing palace gates. Just as before, he was subjected to the same tedious procedure, stripped of his belongings, and forced to write yet another formal request. Once again, he was told to wait an additional three days for a response. Frustrated but determined not to give up, Emery complied.

As he turned to leave the gates for the second time, something unusual caught his attention—a subtle disturbance amidst the flow of people. It wasn’t immediately clear what it was, but the sensation prickled at the edges of his awareness, urging him to investigate.

A large, finely-dressed crowd had gathered outside the palace. Unlike the usual riffraff, these individuals carried themselves with an air of prestige. Many were clad in robes adorned with alchemical symbols, their auras revealing them as cosmic realm practitioners. It didn’t take long for Emery to piece together their purpose. They were alchemists, invited to participate in a prestigious event known as the Alchemy of Heaven and Earth.

The competition promised significant rewards, including rare materials and recognition. Most notably, the top three alchemists would be granted an audience with the Pardera King himself—a chance Emery couldn’t afford to miss.

A sly smile creeping onto his face as he just found a reason to join the competition,