Earth's Greatest Magus

KABOOM!

The ship jolted violently as a massive explosion rocked its rear. A fireball—so large and potent it could level an entire city—collided against the ship’s protective barrier. Flames surged around the hull, devoured by the glowing runes etched into the shield. The magic shimmered under the pressure, absorbing the blast and leaving only scorched air in its wake.

”Commander! We’ve got more hostiles—blocking our path ahead!” shouted one of the captains, his voice sharp with panic.

Without hesitation, the commander barked, ”Evasive maneuver! Thirty degrees starboard!”

”Yes, sir!”

The crew sprang into motion, hands flying over controls, spells flaring as they adjusted the ship’s trajectory mid-air. Emery watched closely, his gaze narrowing. He could feel the strain in the ship’s defenses. Though the vessel was built to endure powerful attacks, even the strongest barriers couldn’t last under a continuous siege.

And the enemy wasn’t letting up.

It had been an hour since the pursuit began. What started as a single skirmish had evolved into a full-blown aerial hunt. At least a dozen chasers were on their tail now—half in the polished armor of the Pardera faction, the other half in wild, fur-lined cloaks marking them as warriors from the northern barbarian tribes.

”Why are we still running?!” Gelael snapped from beside him, arms crossed and eyes blazing. ”We have enough firepower to pulverize these fools!”

But the commander, visibly tense, shook his head. ”They’re too well coordinated. This isn’t just a random interception—they’re planning something. We can’t afford to waste time fighting.”

He briefly explained the ship’s formidable defenses—how it could withstand dozens more attacks from the enemy. He believed the pursuers would eventually exhaust their spirit energy before they could breach the shield.

”If they’re foolish enough to waste all their power, we’ll strike back. But for now, we keep moving. Head for the nearest outpost—it’s three hours away.”

Gelael scoffed, turning away in annoyance. ”Fine. Then let me deal this parasite-spawned bastard,” he growled, glaring at the bound spirit master slumped against the bulkhead.

The commander hesitated, clearly unsure. Torturing a captured Grand Magus—especially without evidence—was not something he wished to happen.

Emery stepped forward.

”We need to understand what we’re dealing with... If this is truly the work of parasites, then we must know why we failed to detect them. That’s why we alchemists are here.”

Gelael, the Ember Sage, glared at the bound spirit master, flames faintly flickering in his palm. ”I’d rather burn the truth out of him.”

”No,” Emery interjected. ”Fire might destroy what we need. Let me handle it.”

Gelael scowled but gave a sharp nod. ”Soul attack? Huh! Just don’t waste my time.”

The restrained spirit master burst out in rage. ”DON’T YOU DARE! STAY OUT OF MY HEAD!”

He thrashed violently, veins bulging, but his body was bound and his spiritual energy thoroughly contained.

Emery took a deep breath as he summoned his power. His eyes began to glow with a bright green hue—an eerie, otherworldly light that bathed the room in an emerald sheen. His soul force pierced into the restrained man’s consciousness. In an instant, Emery’s spirit was pulled into the mental battlefield.

Within the soul realm, the world around him transformed into an ethereal expanse of mist and shifting lights. In front of him stood the soul construct of the spirit master—a towering pagoda made of translucent stone, three stories tall. Its structure shimmered, and around it, floating barriers of mental fortification spun like protective rings.

Emery narrowed his eyes. It reminded him of the slave master Mo Yan, whose level-three soul defense had once taken him seven exhausting days to crack.

But this time, Emery was no longer the same man.

He summoned his own soul pagoda with ease, the three levels forming in seconds—each floor glowing with a refined harmony of elemental power. But he didn’t stop there. His soul energy surged as he activated the [Prism of Light] technique.

A rainbow glow burst from within, spreading across the mental space as his eight elements— plant, water, wind, earth, lightning, ice, fire, and metal—each responded to the divine infusion of light. The base construct of his pagoda grew, expanded, and transformed. A fourth level formed, then a fifth—each one shining brighter, more brilliant than the last, until his five-story soul tower radiated power that cracked the surrounding mist.

The spirit master sensed the overwhelming pressure and reacted instantly, summoning defenses and trying to fortify his existing barriers. But Emery struck swiftly.

Like a spear of rainbow fire, his soul force crashed into the first layer of mental defense. The shield trembled, groaned, and then shattered.

The second layer followed.

And the third.

Each barrier crumbled like sand under a wave.

Within moments, Emery pierced through the defenses and entered the man’s true inner sanctum.

What he saw inside was grotesque.

Black tendrils, like oily vines, twisted through the spirit master’s soul. They pulsed and writhed with a sick, hungry rhythm. The parasites were fused with his mind—not merely attached, but embedded, cloaked in layers of thought and emotion, hidden behind the very walls that Emery had just shattered.

”He’s cloaking the parasites within his own mental defenses…” Emery muttered in realization. ”No wonder we couldn’t detect them.”

Back in the physical world, Gelael’s flames flared violently at the discovery. ”Let me burn him now”

”Wait,” Emery said sharply, still holding the connection. ”Let me find out what he knows first.”

The Ember Sage growled in frustration but held back.

Over the next hour, Emery delved deeper into the man’s fragmented memories, peeling away layers of lies and deceit.

A vision.

The outpost. The one they were currently flying toward. Emery saw it clearly—its gates torn open, the barracks infested, the defensive core compromised. It was a trap.

Emery broke the connection and pulled back into his own body, gasping lightly from the strain. He looked up, locking eyes with the commander. ”The outpost is compromised. Completely overrun. They’re expecting us.”

For a moment, there was silence on the deck.

The commander straightened, jaw clenched. He turned to the crew. ”Course change. New heading”

”Yes, Commander!”

The ship rumbled again as the engines flared, and the vessel veered sharply off its original course. The detour added several grueling hours to their journey, pushing the ship’s shields to their absolute limit. Forced into multiple skirmishes, the ship shuddered under enemy fire. The defensive barrier flickered dangerously, and in the chaos of counterattacks, they lost over a dozen warriors in desperate boarding repels and outer-deck firefights. A few hours later, a friendly patrol squad finally intercepted and engaged the remaining enemies. Only then did the chase come to a definitive end.