Earth's Greatest Magus

Emery’s mastery over the Dao of Heaven and Earth resonated in perfect harmony with the Twilight Transformation.

Light and darkness flowed through his veins in perfect equilibrium, not clashing, not competing, but reinforcing one another in a seamless cycle.

The savage impulses of the wolf bloodline were completely suppressed-not erased, but disciplined-allowing him to retain its monstrous physical resilience and explosive battle power without sacrificing clarity or control. Every movement was precise. Every spell flowed at peak efficiency. His transformation was not berserk fury, but absolute dominance.

With Excalibur in hand, Emery tore through Caelthar’s spirit weapon formation.

Each slash carried divine radiance. Ice splintered into glittering dust. Tier-six spirit swords screamed as their spiritual cores fractured, their trajectories collapsing as the formation lost coherence.

Caelthar was forced backward for the first time.

Ishtar’s composure cracked.

“That filthy half-blood!” she shrieked, her carefully maintained aristocratic mask twisting with fury and fear. “Caelthar-can you defeat him or not?!”

Caelthar did not answer immediately.

The cold, analytical calm that had defined him moments earlier had transformed into something sharper-something dangerous. Excitement burned behind his eyes as ancient runes ignited across his forehead, spiraling outward like frostbitten constellations. The remaining sixteen spirit swords trembled, then reorganized, their edges darkening as deathly intent seeped into them.

“This is getting interesting,” he murmured.

The formation shifted.

[Second Form: Glacial Sepulcher]

The air collapsed inward as the swords spiraled downward, carving out a massive spherical prison of rotating ice blades. Deathly frost poured from the formation, not merely freezing space but draining vitality itself. This was no simple ice technique-it was a funerary domain, a battlefield meant to entomb enemies alive and grind them down until their souls froze solid.

The pressure slammed into Emery like a mountain.

His defensive field shuddered. Ice shards pierced through gaps in his guard, slicing into his flesh. His wounds closed almost instantly under his

regeneration, but the cold did not vanish. It lingered like venom, crawling into his veins, slowing circulation, numbing nerves.

Without hesitation, he spoke a single name.

“Chutuhlu.”

The Khaos Gate of Pestilence responded.

A formless ripple passed through Emery’s body as the guardian’s authority activated, analyzing, isolating, and expelling foreign substances with ruthless efficiency. The invasive cold energy was stripped away, neutralized as if it were a toxin rather than elemental force. His blood burned warm again, vitality roaring back into place.

But the price was immediate.

Excalibur trembled violently in his grip.

A faint resistance pulsed from the divine sword, its will clashing with the unstable balance of Khaos energy now circulating within Emery’s system.

“Tch… stubborn as ever,” Emery muttered.

He adjusted instantly.

Instead of forcing more Khaos energy into the equation, he shifted tactics. Two artifacts emerged from his domain in a burst of multicolored light-the Chromacircle Rings locking into orbit around his arms, while the Fourfold

Dawns unfolded into a layered defensive lattice before him.

Rainbow-hued spirit energy surged outward, colliding violently with the glacial prison. The rotating ice blades screeched as their momentum slowed, destabilized by the chromatic resonance. At the same time, Emery’s Icarus Wings flared wide, thunder roaring as he burst upward, tearing free from the collapsing kill zone.

Layer after layer of Caelthar’s infamous ice prison shattered.

Ishtar’s face drained of color.

“What-what are you doing?!” she screamed. “Use your famous spirit attacks!!”

Caelthar’s voice was sharp, controlled-but strained.

“I already have. Multiple times.” His gaze never left Emery. “And you see it too. He’s controlling three high-tier artifacts simultaneously… while maintaining his mental defense”

He exhaled slowly.

“He is no less a spirit master than I am.”

Caelthar’s words struck Ishtar harder than any blade.

He was not just another Astiel Grand Magus. He was one of the clan’s most celebrated spirit masters-openly groomed to one day step into the ranks of true Spirit Champions. Hearing him admit that Emery stood on equal footing splintered the last illusion of safety she clung to.

Fear finally took hold.

In a erupted of panic, Ishtar drew her weapon.

A tier-seven celestial bow unfolded in her hands, its body forged from pale star-metal and inlaid with divine-crystals. As she pulled the string, condensed astral light formed into arrows of shimmering light energy, each one capable of wounds a Grand Magus.

She loosed them without restraint.

The sky filled with streaks of golden starlight, a chaotic barrage meant to overwhelm rather than kill cleanly.

It was useless.

Emery moved like a phantom through the storm. Some arrows missed by mere inches as he shifted his position with surgical precision, others were deflected with casual flicks of Excalibur, their energies shattered before they could even explode. The difference in mastery was humiliating. A powerful artifact was only as deadly as the will and skill behind it-and Ishtar had neither.

“What are we going to do?!” she cried, her voice cracking as panic overtook

arrogance.

Caelthar did not raise his voice.

“Calm down,” he uttered coldly. “We only need to hold him for a few more minutes. When reinforcements arrive… I can use that.”

The words alone carried weight.

His sword formation shifted once more.

The remaining spirit weapons reversed their rotation, interlocking into a massive crystalline structure as his Battlefield Domain condensed inward. Frost surged outward in controlled waves, solidifying into an enormous Ice Fortress, its walls layered with defensive runes and spiritual reinforcement. This was not an attack-it was a delay, a calculated gamble to buy time at any cost.

Emery understood the intent instantly.

If he remained trapped here when Astiel reinforcements arrived, escape would become exponentially harder. Falling deep within enemy territory was not an

option.

But retreat was equally impossible.

Not with both of them standing before him.

Not when Klea’s fate was still unanswered.

His gaze sharpened.

Then he opened his domain.

“VIA,” Emery called. “It’s your turn.”

Space tore open beside the battlefield.

A white figure burst forth like a meteor-sleek, humanoid, and impossibly dense. Randhall’s Super Golem struck from a blind angle with terrifying speed.

Ishtar scoffed reflexively. “A golem? You think a construct can-“

Caelthar’s eyes widened, his divine sense could see the truth.

This was no ordinary construct.

It was a golem whose physique rivaled that of a three-cosmos Grand Magus.

The reason behind Emery’s confidence.

The golem’s fist slammed into the Ice Fortress.

BAAAMM-

The impact detonated like a collapsing star.

Cracks spiderwebbed across the crystalline walls, runes shattering as the fortress buckled inward. Before Caelthar could stabilize the domain, Excalibur descended in a radiant arc, severing the remaining structure in a single,

merciless strike.

The fortress collapsed.

Caelthar did not hesitate. “Run!”

He seized Ishtar and fled.

Defensive artifacts ignited one after another, detonating behind them to

increase their speed and slow pursuit.

The two female Grand Magus charged forward in desperation, but they lasted only seconds-overwhelmed, crushed, and cast aside like debris.

Ishtar’s face drained of all color as she watched her protectors fall.

Caelthar did not look back.

Behind them, thunder roared.

Emery pursued with the Icarus Wings blazing, lightning tearing through the sky

as he closed the distance like a true predator.

His voice thundered across the sky.

“Who allowed you to leave?”

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