Earth's Greatest Magus

Jinkan Nephilim descended from her golden ship with grace befitting her status.

She wasn’t just a noble—she was royalty. The fourth in line for the Nephilim throne, a faction considered the top in the entire magus realm. Compared to Kronos, who merely ruled over a Grade One faction, Jinkan was akin to a god visiting mortals.

Klea, watching her arrival with narrowed eyes, offered a polite but cutting smile.

“What an honor to welcome you, Your Grace,” she said with a tone soaked in sarcasm and suspicion.

Jinkan replied without pause. “I’m here to help.” Her golden eyes turned serious.

The tension between the two was unmistakable, but so was the history. Once academy rivals, their animosity had long cooled into something more complex—an uneasy camaraderie shaped by war, sacrifice, and the man they both respected.

Behind Jinkan, a team of six assistants followed, all of them clearly elite. Half were Grand Magus, wearing the battle insignia of the Nephilim Vanguard. They immediately got to work, scanning the facility and muttering orders with military precision.

Klea frowned. “What’s going on?”

“Let’s talk,” Jinkan said calmly, then gestured toward the meeting chamber.

Inside, the core Earth Magus team gathered. The tension in the air was thick. Jinkan’s presence demanded answers, and she delivered them swiftly.

Her assistants returned with a shocking revelation: multiple surveillance devices hidden within the Earth faction’s assigned quarters. They were subtle, cloaked in advanced illusion formations.

“Kronos has been spying on you,” Jinkan said bluntly.

“Those bastards!!” Thrax roared, slamming a palm into the table, making it shake.

Julian leaned forward. “Is this a violation of the competition’s?”

Jinkan shook her head. “Unfortunately, no. Since Kronos is the host, they can claim the devices were for security purposes. Without hard evidence of malicious use, it’s not technically a breach of conduct.”

Klea exhaled slowly. “Thank you for exposing this… But this isn’t why you came, is it?”

Jinkan nodded subtly. She raised her hand, and one of her assistants activated a glowing orb. A complex interface bloomed in midair—detailed intelligence files on the Kronos faction’s top fighters.

The room fell silent as the holograms revealed information far more detailed than anything the Earth magus had gathered.

Their attention quickly turned toward a few names;

“Three… four… Five!” Klea whispered. “Five Grand Magus?”

Everyone froze. The air grew heavy.

The weight of those words crushed the room into silence. They had expected Kronos, Perses, and the recently advanced Zeus. Now the number had nearly doubled, and the odds had turned from daunting to near impossible.

“Poseidon and Ares?”

“Yes,” Jinkan confirmed and elaborated with clinical detachment. “Kronos invested heavily in their breakthroughs. All three—Zeus, Poseidon, and Ares—had been on the brink for centuries. With enough resources, their breakthroughs were only a matter of time.”

Jinkan’s assistant continued, displaying detailed holographic projections of each Grand Magus—battle footage, cultivation paths, elemental affinities, even some of their known techniques. The analysis was deeper than anything the Earth magus had seen before.

Julian clenched his jaw. “How can we win this…” he muttered, his frustration surfacing in his eyes.

Seeing the mood deteriorating, Jinkan added, “There is one good news,” she said. “One of their Grand Magus—Perses—has yet to return. He’s currently deployed on the outer frontlines of the Andros Campaign, he likely won’t be participating.”

That revelation brought a brief, shaky breath of relief to the group.

“Still four Grand Magus,” Julian finished grimly. “And we have only one,” turn a glance to Morgana.

But Thrax, arms folded and eyes ablaze, scoffed with unshakable bravado. “Hah! Four or forty—it makes no damn difference. We’ll knock every one of them down!”

Julian whirled toward him, frustration exploding across his face. “Thrax, enough! Stop thinking with your fists for once!”

The room tensed.

Without hesitation, Thrax stepped forward and grabbed Julian by the collar, his muscles taut, his voice low and dangerous. “So what then? You wanna give up? Is that it?!”

Julian didn’t respond at first. His lips parted, but no words came. The fire behind his eyes dimmed slightly as he looked around at the others—their tense postures, the weight of looming defeat carved into their expressions.

“…Emery’s not here,” Julian muttered, voice strained. “Senior Fjolrin’s vanished. And Chumo… even Chumo—”

A voice cut through the silence like a blade through silk.

“I’m here.”

They all turned sharply.

A shadow peeled itself from the wall at the edge of the chamber. The figure who emerged moved with soundless grace, each step quiet as snowfall. His eyes glowed faintly in the low light, and the aura that followed him was colder than ice and sharper than steel.

Chumo.

Julian stepped back in disbelief. Even Thrax’s grip loosened.

The fact that he’d approached them undetected inside a secured meeting room said everything. But what hit harder was the pressure that now filled the space. It clung to the walls, stifled breath, and stirred instinctual fear.

Chumo was no longer as they remembered. He had ascended.

Full Moon Magus.

He looked at them all with calm detachment. “I can take one of the Grand Magus,” he said, his voice cool as frost.

A silence fell. Then—Klea stepped forward.

Her gaze swept across the three standing before her—Thrax, Julian, and now Chumo. Each of them had surpassed the limits of any ordinary Full Moon Magus. And then there was Morgana.

Hope sparked in her eyes.

“We can do this,” Klea said softly at first. Then louder. Firmer. “No… we will do this. We will win. And we will take our home back.”

Her voice carried the weight of certainty. And it lit something inside the others.

A new energy ignited in the chamber—faint at first, like embers in dying ash—but it spread fast. Eyes lifted. Postures straightened. Even Julian, who only moments ago had nearly given in to despair, found himself nodding.

Morale was returning.

From the corner of the room, Jinkan watched with a quiet smile playing at her lips. Her mission, it seemed, was complete.

“I’ve done what I came here for,” she said, turning to leave. “Remember to register your ten participants by tomorrow. Good luck.”

Her words were curt, but not unkind.

She turned on her heel and headed toward the hallway exit, her assistants already dispersing. But before she could disappear entirely, Klea followed after her, catching up just outside the chamber doors.

“Wait,” Klea said.

Jinkan stopped.

“I appreciate the help,” Klea continued, her tone calm but sharp, eyes narrowed. “But let’s not pretend you did this out of goodwill. Tell me the real reason. Why is a Nephilim princess putting this much interest into a duel between a lower-realm world and a low-grade faction?”

Jinkan finally turned, her golden eyes gleaming with restrained amusement. “You’re sharp, as always.”

Klea didn’t flinch.

“Let’s just say… we have a personal stake in this as well.”

“Which is?”

Jinkan’s smile deepened, but she did not answer.

Klea exhaled slowly. “Fine. In that case, help us with one matter.”

“What is it?”

Klea’s request was surprising—she asked Jinkan to allow Earth’s magus to register with only nine members, leaving the last spot open for a late participant.

“This shouldn’t be too difficult to arrange, right?”

Jinkan gave another faint smile. “You place that much faith in him, don’t you?”

Klea replied simply, “Is that a yes?”

With the Nephilim princess gone, the Earth magus turned their focus to preparing strategies to win the upcoming duels.