Earth's Greatest Magus

Emery’s intentions were clear—he was heading for Rosin Karat.

Amidst the chaos engulfing the stronghold, Emery knew this could be his only chance. If he could reach the imprisoned Supreme Magus, not only might he be able to save him, but having such a powerful ally at his side might be the only hope for surviving what was quickly becoming a battle for their lives.

He sprinted through the winding stairwell, descending deeper into the heart of the central keep. Down below, the temperature dropped and the magic wards grew thicker—the signs he was nearing the dungeon area.

That’s when he was stopped. A wall of guards—over a hundred—stood between him and the prisoners cells. At their front was the dungeon warden, a grizzled two-cosmos Grand Magus clad in obsidian armor.

“Master Alchemist?” the warden said with a confused frown, his hand resting warily on the hilt of his runeblade. “Why are you here? And why are you dressed like that?”

Emery glanced down at himself. He was wearing one of the guard armors, the one he used to keep him from being targeted.

“Yes, Warden. I—look, it’s mayhem out there. Let me hide here. Just until the alarm passes.”

But the excuse didn’t convince the old war mage.

“This is no place to hide,” the Warden said firmly. “Return to the main keep. The dungeon is the worst place to be right now.”

It made sense. The prison held some of the most dangerous enemy combatants captured in recent campaigns. If Emery were in the enemy’s place, this would be his first target—free the prisoners, sow chaos, turn the tide.

But Emery wasn’t ready to give up. He leaned in, his voice calm but urgent. “Then let me help you. We can eliminate the prisoners before the enemy gets here.”

A few nearby guards exchanged glances. The idea wasn’t new—emergency protocols allowed it—but only if the last defense barrier broke or if the vice commander issued the order. Still, the clamor of distant battle grew louder, and inside the dungeon, the prisoners had begun to cheer. Their voices, deep and mocking, echoed through the stone halls.

“I’m afraid we’ll be too late by then,” Emery said, his tone grave.

The warden hesitated but shook his head. “Orders are orders.”

Emery narrowed his eyes. Time was running out. He sent a mental message directly into the warden’s mind, bypassing any listening ears.

The Warden’s gaze darkened with thought. The idea was brutal, but tactical. And most importantly—it gave them a chance.

Apparently, it wasn’t just Emery’s words that were convincing this time — the fact that he had hidden his intentions from the rest of the janitors also helped sway the warden’s decision.

After a long pause, the Warden nodded. “Fine. I’ll let you inspect the prisoners. My men will help you”

Three figures stepped forward, cosmic experts in enchanted armor. They didn’t question the order. These were the Warden’s most trusted men.

“We need to hurry,” Emery said, leading them deeper into the prison maze.

The dungeon was immense—arched corridors lined with shimmering barrier cells. Inside, cosmic-ranked prisoners sat or paced, all of them dangerous. There were 122 in total, including two Supreme Magus realm—Rosin Karat among them.

Emery began to distribute the vials, careful with his words. “This is a sedative that will weaken their inner energy. It’s non-lethal—just temporary.”

The janitors were skeptical but didn’t interfere. They watched as the prisoner reluctantly consumed the formula.

What he distributed were his older creations—potent concoctions brewed during his days experimenting alongside Chututhlu. These poisons were laced with corrupted soul essence and dreamroot sap, capable of weakening a one-cosmos grand magus for a few days, two-cosmos experts for a few hours, and a three-cosmos magus for at least an hour—if administered correctly. But therein lay the challenge.

These weren’t fast-acting toxins; they targeted the soul, creeping in through the metaphysical barrier. It would take minutes for any effect to settle in. That, of course, was the real reason for his act. He needed to draw away the three janitors from him by dividing the jobs with them.

Two were lured just as planned—but one janitor, however, remained stubbornly close, watching him like a hawk.

No more time to stall.

Emery reached the section closest to the high-security cells and turned sharply. The janitor followed—and that’s when Emery struck.

Their eyes locked.

Emery activated [Spectral Gaze], his irises igniting with a ghostly shimmer. The janitor froze mid-step, stunned, just as glowing roots surged from Emery’s palm—Elysian Roots—wrapping the man in constricting vines of divine nature energy. It took a full minute of struggle, but Emery managed to suppress the cosmic expert and render him unconscious.

“No time to waste.”

He rushed forward toward the sealed chamber. A great enchanted gate stood between him and Rosin Karat. Arcane formations lined the walls—8 in total. He could see them glowing, pulsing, a magical lock that could only be broken piece by piece.

Emery called on VIA, his A.I. assistant, to help analyze the structure. “Help me locate the eye of the formations.”

With high focus, he began to dismantle the seals. One after another, each more complex than the last. Sweat dripped down his brow. His heartbeat thundered in his ears. Outside, the sound of war roared louder. Explosions. Screams. The enemy had reached the outer walls.

When the third seal broke, a sliver of space between the barriers opened, revealing a chamber bathed in dim blue light. Emery saw him—Rosin Karat—shackled by chains that pulsed with suppression magic.

“Elder!” Emery hissed through the gap. “Hang on. I’m getting you out.”

But just as he reached for the fourth seal—

WOOOOO!!!

A high-pitched alarm sounded throughout the dungeon. Red glyphs ignited on the ceiling, and a ripple of power surged through the prison.