Earth's Greatest Magus

As the battle in the skies intensified with the arrival of the Supreme Being, Emery dashed toward the stronghold’s main keep. One of the golden constructs followed closely, cradling the half-conscious Veyarel in its massive arms. Two more golems marched at Emery’s side, their heavy footfalls cracking stone beneath them. They were not wielders of spells or enchanted weapons. These were engines of war forged from pure cosmic metal and animated by the will of Rosin Karat himself.

The moment they arrived at the main keep walls, their impact was felt. A squad of enemy magus unleashed a barrage of spells—chain lightning surged across the corridor, spears of ice rained down, and blades of wind howled through the air. Yet the constructs did not falter.

One golem stepped into the lightning bolt without hesitation. The electrical current arced harmlessly across its golden frame, discharging into the floor with a shriek of sparks. Another raised its plated arms and blocked a flurry of ice spears, the shards exploding on contact, leaving only faint scorch marks on its chest. Then, with a sound like thunder, it lunged forward.

BOOM!

A single metallic fist connected with the wall beside an enemy magus. The force of the blow shattered masonry and hurled the man across the hall like a ragdoll, his bones crunching mid-flight. The other construct followed with terrifying efficiency—its foot came down like a meteor on another spellcaster, crushing him with a sickening

CRACK.

The enemy broke ranks instantly.

Within seconds, Emery reached the inner keep. What awaited him inside was a blood-soaked battlefield—two dark-cloaked peak cosmic experts were locked in vicious combat with three of the stronghold’s guardians and their elite force. The bodies of fallen magus and knights littered the floor like broken toys, smoke and blood saturating the air.

Amidst the chaos, Emery spotted a dying captain slumped against a pillar. He rushed over, signaling one of the golems to shield them. The golden construct moved with speed belying its bulk, intercepting a volley of fire blasts with its forearm. Then, its other arm swatted the attacker like a fly, sending him crashing into a column.

Kneeling beside the wounded man, Emery quickly administered a recovery pill and activated [Nature’s Grasp], sending calming energies through his hands to stabilize the captain’s failing body.

“Where are the alchemists?” he asked urgently.

The captain, coughing blood, pointed weakly. “Left wing… they moved all non-combatants there…”

Emery’s eyes narrowed. “And reinforcements?”

“They should’ve been here by now… but… we’ve heard nothing.”

A pit grew in Emery’s stomach. Before he could rise, Veyarel—still barely lucid—muttered from the arms of his golem escort. “This stronghold… is not the only target… There are other…”

The revelation made Emery’s pulse quicken. Their chances of survival, already slim, had just become even smaller.

The captain’s eyes locked on Veyarel. “You… you’re one of them!”

Without a word, Emery pressed a finger to the man’s forehead, casting a quick spell that fainted the man. There was no time to argue or explain.

He turned and rushed toward the left wing.

The battle raged across every corridor. Enemy magus and cosmic experts launched attacks from every angle, but the golems shielded Emery with brutal efficiency.

One of the golden constructs took a Tier 8 fireball directly to the chest, the explosion sending out a thunderous shockwave. The impact rocked its massive frame, but instead of faltering, the construct let out a deep mechanical growl and kept marching forward. Cracks rippled across its golden torso, but to Emery’s astonishment, the damage was already beginning to mend—its enchanted core actively regenerating the fractured metal.

With the constructs clearing the path, Emery was able to push forward unhindered.

At last, they reached the left wing—only to find it engulfed in chaos once more.

A small squad of defenders was holding their ground against overwhelming odds: over three dozen enemy magus and five cosmic realm fighters surrounded the non-combatants. Only a single captain and ten magus-level guards remained upright. In the eye of the storm stood Gelael the Ember Sage, his dark cosmic flames wrapping around him like an aura of smoke and embers. His presence alone held the line.

Then, amidst the chaos, a familiar voice rang out. “Brother Emery! Over here!”

It was Ivaris, massive axe in hand, flames coiled along its edge. He stood at the edge of the chamber, keeping a group of assistant alchemists protected behind his sweeping axe and undying flame.

“Assist them!” Emery commanded.

At once, the two golems charged into battle. They did not roar nor scream. They simply moved—silent engines of destruction. One launched itself into a group of magus, sending bodies flying with a backhand swing. The other brought both fists down on a cosmic warrior attempting to charge Gelael, flattening him into the floor.

The impact of their arrival was immediate. With two dozen golden titans among them, the enemy lines broke. Gelael unleashed a surge of his power, shadows dancing through his ember flames. He struck down two cosmic fighters in under a minute. The remaining three retreated toward the corridor.

“Don’t chase them!” Emery shouted.

“Huh?! I don’t take orders from you!” Gelael snapped, blood boiling.

“Wait! Senior Gelael—I came here for you!” Emery called out, signaling one of the golems to step forward.

It lowered Veyarel to the ground, revealing the bound and still-struggling man.

“You’re mad! This is no time for treatment!” Gelael barked. “And isn’t he the enemy?… the one who broke our barrier?!”

The room’s tension grew. Dozens of survivors stared at Emery, mistrust flaring in their eyes.

Emery took a deep breath. “This is the will of the Supreme Magus—the one aiding Lord Ariel in the skies right now! These golems are his. If we don’t treat this man, he might turn and walk away—or worse, join the enemy.”

That drew gasps and wary glances.

Gelael stood firm, his expression tight with skepticism. Emery could already see the resistance in his eyes. Knowing how the arrogant alchemist thought, Emery quickly pressed on, “Master Gelael… this man is infected with a mature parasite. A rare specimen. You won’t get a chance like this often—to test your skill on a peak Cosmic expert under its influence.”

That got his attention.

To sweeten the offer, Emery gestured toward the towering constructs beside them. “I’ll assign these golems to guard you while you work. You won’t be distracted.”

Gelael hesitated for another beat, then let out a sharp exhale. “Fine. But if this man dies, that’s on you.”

Without another word, the Ember Sage knelt beside the still-breathing Veyarel. His hands pressed against the corrupted man’s chest, and a pulse of deep crimson flame spread across his arms. Dark fire—cosmic in nature but twisted with a smoky black hue—crawled into Veyarel’s body as the Sage began his delicate and dangerous treatment.

But only minutes into the process, the enemy returned.

Emery’s senses flared just a moment before one of the stone walls exploded inward—chunks of enchanted masonry flying like shrapnel. Through the smoke and rubble, a towering creature emerged—its slick, wart-covered hide glistening with mucus. A massive frog-like beast, nearly three stories tall, forced its way into the chamber. Atop its head stood the beastmaster from the Barbarian forces—her eyes wild, lips curled in a grin.

“Well, well,” she laughed, her voice echoing unnaturally through the chamber. “So this is where you all ran to hide.”