Earth's Greatest Magus

Emery stepped through the final security seal, entering the heart of the Citadel’s most guarded facility. His presence was immediately acknowledged by the watching janitors, though none spoke.

The corridor ahead brimmed with thick enchantments and ancient runes pulsing softly in the stone—wards meant to restrain even the most powerful of beings.

At the center of the cell, restrained by no less than seven layers of soul-sealing magic, sat a gaunt figure—frail, pale-skinned, and hunched with age. His once-imposing frame had withered, the thick cords of muscle Emery remembered now shrunken beneath loose robes. Still, the aura that clung to him was undeniable.

Rosin Karat.

The old devil himself. Patriarch of the Karat faction. Master of the Golden City.

It felt surreal. Emery remembered watching this man clash against King Alduin of Zodiac City—two titans of power. And now, one of them sat here, bound and bent like a forgotten relic.

As Emery stepped closer, the prisoner raised his head just slightly. He did not open his eyes.

“A new visitor…?” the old man rasped, his voice like dry parchment. “And who might you be, young man?”

The Supreme Magus couldn’t sense him. That much was clear. The bindings around him blocked every spiritual perception, leaving him blind to everything but sound and faint vibrations. Emery, too, was forced to tread carefully. He couldn’t risk exposure. Surveillance runes watched from every corner of the room. It was likely even Lord Ariel himself was monitoring this conversation.

“I am an alchemist, elder,” Emery said with a respectful bow. “I’ve been permitted to gather samples in pursuit of a cure for the parasite infection.”

The elder let out a weak chuckle, bitter and humorless. “You may take your samples… but you will find nothing. I am not infected.”

“I understand,” Emery said. “Still, any data could help further our research.”

As instructed, Emery made no physical contact. Instead, he uses spirit reading to guide a set of floating instruments from a sealed case. Needles and tubes hovered midair, delicately extracting blood, skin, and saliva samples from a distance. It was a clinical process, yet beneath it, something far more important brewed.

While the tools performed their work, Emery stepped near the perimeter of the seal and stood directly across from the elder.

“If you would, Elder… I’d like to ask a few questions about your realm. It may help us understand more of the situation.”

It was a scripted pretext—just enough to seem plausible. But as he spoke, Emery reached out mentally.

The risk was high. Sending mental messages in this chamber could alert watchers, even if they couldn’t read the contents. But it was a chance Emery had to take.

The elderly supreme brow twitched. His head turned slightly.

And then

“What…!!” His voice trembled, gaining sudden strength. “What games are you playing now?! I have cooperated! I’ve given you everything! I know!”

His voice rose in fury, and Emery’s pulse jumped. It was too loud, too sudden—one slip could jeopardize his identity.

“My apologies, Elder!” Emery quickly said, “Please—remain calm.”

On the other hand, he sends more mental messages trying to convince with reason.

The old man’s eyes, still blind to the present, searched the darkness in front of him. His breath was shaky, suspicion and disbelief etched into every wrinkle of his face.

Unfortunately, Before Emery could ask more, a sharp voice rang through the chamber.

“Time’s up,” said the janitor, stepping into view with a firm glare.

Emery stood reluctantly. He gave a final respectful nod, turning away.