Earth's Greatest Magus

The sky had become a gateway to madness.

The appearance of the monstrous entity—the colossal eye surrounded by writhing void-tentacles—cast a pall over the battlefield. Its mere presence exuded an oppressive dread, a spiritual force so potent it smothered hope.

Across Northstar Stronghold, defenders dropped to their knees. Some screamed, and others fell unconscious where they stood. Even Ivaris a cosmic-level figure, staggered as though the ground had buckled beneath him. His eyes widened in disbelief before he collapsed to one knee, clutching his head.

The aura of the Scourge wasn’t just oppressive—it was soul-breaking.

And yet, the enemy reveled in it.

Barbarians, corrupted or emboldened by the abomination’s presence, let out howls that no longer sounded human. They surged forward with renewed vigor, moving like starved predators unleashed. Their eyes glowed red. Their muscles bulged with unnatural strength.

They tore through dazed defenders, hacking, slashing, and mauling.

The tide was turning again.

Just as despair began to take root, a clear voice echoed across the stronghold like sunlight through stormclouds.

It was calm, commanding, and spoken in ancient Elvish.

“Auta, berethrim en’galad! – Rise, warriors of the light! Stand, for the battle is not yet lost!”

Lord Ariel’s voice.

His words rang through the hearts of the defenders, laced with powerful spirit magic and divine resonance. In their wake followed a wave of energy—gentle yet firm. A radiant glow washed over the stronghold like a tide of dawn.

A wave of spiritual defense—then came the light.

Golden runes flared across the armor and weapons of every soldier. A protective enchantment, woven into the divine speech, surrounded thousands at once. Emery felt it immediately—a coolness in his mind, clarity where fog had crept in. It was as though a great weight had been lifted from his soul.

Around him, others stirred. Warriors who had fallen to their knees rose, eyes blazing anew. Archers returned to the ramparts. Spears were raised. Shields locked together.

Hope reignited.

They fought back.

On the skyward front, the battle was no less fierce. Commander Jhett, lightning flashing in his wake, launched into the air with three of his cosmic-ranked allies. They blitzed through enemy lines like thunderbolts, each strike clearing a path.

Their target was unmistakable—the summoner.

The grotesque magus still hovered near the rift, his dozens of eyes twitching in rhythmic pulses. He raised a hand toward the approaching four, and the giant eye in the sky swiveled.

Then it struck.

A wave of spiritual suppression slammed into the squad like a falling mountain. Emery, watching from the battlements, felt his soul clench even from afar.

The four were caught mid-flight. Their bodies froze, suspended by an invisible force. A heartbeat later, writhing void-tentacles shot forth from the rift.

Jhett roared and cracked the bindings with a flash of pure storm energy, grabbing one of his comrades and yanking him free. But the other two—

“NO!”

The tentacles wrapped around them, twisted once, and crushed. Their screams were drowned beneath the surge of corruptive magic before they exploded into blood mist.

Jhett’s face twisted in fury as he retreated, shielding his surviving ally. But the enemy’s cosmic experts moved to pursue.

Before they could close the gap, a glacier burst into existence between them.

Feil.

The frost commander soared upward, conjuring massive frozen walls layered in defensive enchantments. The air around her turned to mist, her presence a blizzard in motion. Her ice stalled the chase and shielded Jhett as he fell back.

Unfortunately, the power of the Scourge did not end with the creature in the sky.

Emery stood on the outer wall, the wind whipping through his hair, his eyes scanning the battlefield beyond. And then he sensed it—the air became foul. His breath caught as the ground began to tremble.

Across the ruined plain, thousands of barbarian corpses twitched.

They rose.

With jerking, unnatural movements, the bodies lifted from the snow, and a second later, each chest burst open in a grotesque explosion of blood and black ichor as parasite worms—grotesque, glistening—burst forth, attaching to the remains.

The creatures that emerged were hideous bipeds, twisted by void corruption. Each one stood half the size of a man, but their auras burned bright. Every one of them pulsed with the power of a legendary-tier monster.

“DON’T LET THEM CLIMB THE WALL!” shouted one of the captains, “KILL THEM ALL!!”

Arrows rained down from the ramparts, spells lit the night sky, and warriors hacked down the creatures as they climbed the battered walls. Though fearsome, they were manageable—barely. But Emery’s instincts screamed that something worse was coming.

He turned and caught sight of something far more alarming.

The surviving enemy magus and cosmic experts—those who hadn’t yet fallen—began convulsing. They screamed in agony, their eyes rolling back, their bodies trembling violently. And then it began: plumes of purplish smoke billowed from their pores. Their skin tore. Their bones cracked. Their bodies bulged and expanded grotesquely, muscles swelling, bones re-forming, and horns appearing on their foreheads.

They were transforming.

Twice—no, three times—their original size, each was becoming a demonic abomination. A surge of raw, evil power pulsed from them.

Emery’s blood ran cold. “It’s the same…”

Memories flashed in his mind: the Celestial Expedition, the dark magus Kasius. That same demonic taint now corrupted hundreds of enemies. And among them—several radiated power of a cosmic-level demon.

He didn’t hesitate.

“Ivaris! Get back!”

Emery grabbed the weakened Ivaris and dragged him down from the wall just as a massive demonic barbarian smashed into the rampart, cracking the stone beneath its hooves. A cosmic expert defender tried to intercept—only to be ripped apart mid-air, his limbs scattered in a spray of gore.

“FALL BACK!!” came the desperate cry.

Panic rippled across the stronghold. The defenders fled from the collapsing outer wall, retreating toward the inner citadel.

Had it not been for the Supreme’s remaining golems and the defensive barriers left behind, the slaughter would have been total.

Inside the inner courtyard, the defenders regrouped, wounded and shaken. Cries of despair echoed all around him.

“What do we do now?!”

“This is madness! We can’t win this!!!”

Emery looked up. Even the skies offered no reprieve. The enemy’s strongest cosmic experts had begun to change as well. Horns erupted from their skulls. Their howls echoed across the heavens as they descended like gods of war.

Commander Jhett and Feil fell back toward the citadel, their remaining troops in tatters. Jhett’s armor was scorched, his body bleeding from multiple wounds. Feil conjured a final wall of frost to slow the advance before collapsing to her knees, gasping.

The situation was dire.

It was then that the Supreme Being, Rosin Karat, stepped forward.

With a grimace, he raised his arms, and the earth obeyed. Massive slabs of stone shot upward, forming a protective cocoon around the remaining stronghold. Runes flared to life on the surface of the walls—ancient seals meant to hold back even cosmic force.

But the supreme staggered. Blood trickled from his mouth.

“I cannot hold it long,” he said, his voice cracking. “The barrier will fall…”

Outside, the pounding began. Hundreds—no, thousands—of abominations slammed into the stone with unrelenting fury. Each blow shook the earth. Dust rained down. The seals flickered. Cracks appeared.

Destruction was imminent.