Earth's Greatest Magus

The idea of traveling to the Northstar Stronghold was met with immediate resistance. Among the weary and frightened survivors, whispers of doubt became a chorus of protest. The stronghold was too far, the dangers too many, and the Supreme’s presence did little to soothe their fears. When one voice cried out, “No… it’s too dangerous,” others followed with escalating panic.

“This place is safe… we should wait a few more days.”

“I don’t trust those criminals!”

“Lord Ariel will find us. He will come for us!”

Despite Emery’s assurance, and the Supreme’s towering presence, fear proved louder. In the end, two-thirds of the survivors—over seventy people—chose to remain behind.

But not all lost their courage.

Ivaris, though battered, trusted Emery’s judgment and pledged to follow. Gelael, a veteran in battle, knew better than most that safety was found by following strength—and nothing radiated power more than the Supreme.

To hasten their escape, the Supreme conjured a massive hovering platform of solid stone. Reinforced by metal veins and shaped with immaculate precision, it resembled a floating citadel. It carried the thirty-two survivors silently into the wind, gliding swiftly above the treacherous terrain.

They did not look back.

Hours later, while the platform vanished into the distant white horizon, the consequences of indecision descended on the ones who stayed. A group of cosmic experts, cloaked in shadows, arrived at the mountain hideout. Leading them was a female barbarian mounted on an enormous horned toad, its emerald tongue flickering as it sniffed out prey.

The trembling survivors fell to their knees, pleading for mercy, but it was far too late.

The barbarian showed none.

At her silent command, the monstrous beast lunged forward. Screams echoed through the cold caverns as the survivors were torn apart—every last one, executed without pause. The stone walls ran red with regret.

One of the cloaked cosmic experts approached the blood-soaked floor and surveyed the carnage. His voice was calm but laced with urgency. “Do not waste time here. Another group has left—headed east. The alchemist is with them.”

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Thousands of miles away, Emery stood on the edge of the moving platform, snow rushing past beneath them like streaks of light. His attention was fixated on the marvel beneath his feet.

The Supreme’s manipulation of the earth was nothing short of divine. The platform soared with near-silent speed, weaving effortlessly through mountain passes and frozen gorges, yet there was no turbulence. It felt as though they were gliding on calm water.

And more impressive still—whenever they approached a potential threat, the entire platform would transform.

Metal and stone would shift and fold in on themselves, forming a protective box. Its outer surface morphed into a mirror-like sheen that bent light away from them, rendering the group invisible to sight and magical detection.

Emery was amazed and finally allowed himself to relax. He turned his focus once more to the task of healing Veyarel.

The Grand Magus remained frail and broken, his soul torn by the parasitic invasion and the battles waged within. Emery sat beside him, using every tool and technique he could muster to slow the decay and offer brief moments of clarity.

During one such moment, Emery broached the subject of returning home.

He asked Veyarel about the said maze-like portals they used to travel into Tartarus. If he could understand that place, perhaps he could recreate the path home.

But Veyarel’s answer crushed his hope.

“Did you not come here through the Eternal Void yourself?”

Emery heaved a sigh. How could he forget the terrifying place that forced him and Tolano to work together for survival? To think that the Karat group also passed through such a place was disheartening.

Veyarel added “The Eternal Void is ever-changing,” the elder muttered. “There is no map, no fixed path. I guided us through using magnetism… My mastery of it let me feel the currents even in the void. Without it, we will be adrift.”

Emery frowned, nodding in grim understanding. If he wanted to go home, Veyarel would need to survive.

Another option was for Emery to learn this “magnetism” himself.

He asked if it could be taught.

The old man chuckled weakly, a glimmer of his former self. “Ambitious… but it’s not so simple. You must be a master of both metal and lightning. Few are born with such affinity.”

Emery, never one to give up easily, revealed his control of eight elements, as well as his budding grasp of spatial law.

Veyarel’s eyes widened slightly. “Your talent… not inferior to the Nephilim or the Arcanum protégé. But still far from what’s required.”

Still, Emery pressed on. He asked that Veyarel teach him—one day, when he was able.

The elder gave a wry smirk. “Of course… I owe you my life… I will teach you… but maybe in a few hundred years.” And after saying that, he abruptly slipped back into his trance-like stupor.

Emery didn’t take the words as a joke. If he could not yet learn the law, then perhaps his darker half could. Either way, he would not let the chance slip away.

Nearly a full day had passed when they finally encountered something new on the horizon. The Grand Magus, even in his weakened state, detected the presence first—cosmic energy signatures near their path.

Dozens of figures aboard a massive flying vessel. A boat, soaring through the sky, bearing the colors and crest of Pardera.

Gelael’s instincts flared immediately. They needed information—any updates on the invasion or the status of the strongholds. He argued that they should approach the ship.

But the Supreme dismissed the idea outright.

He was a fugitive, after all. Pardera’s leadership would not welcome his face, and worse—if any among them were infected, a single encounter could threaten them all.

Emery, curious, reached out with his divine sense to scan the vessel.

To his surprise, it was familiar.

He recognized the boat. It was the very same that had accompanied him from Pardera for the expedition and the people leading aboard—Vice Commander Feil.

After a moment’s, Emery shared his thought with the Supreme.

“I know them… and If we move with them, our odds of being welcomed by the Northstar Stronghold would increase significantly.”

The Supreme’s expression darkened as he weighed the risk but decided to trust Emery’s call.