Earth's Greatest Magus

Anxiety had begun to spread through Lysna City, the great port-metropolis nearest to Eclipse Island.

At first, it was subtle-too subtle for commoners to understand. Ships that should have remained for days of celebration instead arrived early at the city’s outer portals, their crews pale and silent. Noble envoys departed without ceremony. Delegations vanished into teleportation light without explanation. Those with cultivation felt it first.

The higher-realm citizens sensed ferocious fluctuations in the world’s breath- pressure waves rippling through ley lines, spatial distortions crawling across the horizon like invisible storms. The weaker could not sense it, but they heard it: distant thunder that did not belong to the sky, roars that echoed across

oceans.

Then Aeterna Gratia began.

What should have been a joyous alignment of moon and sun-an auspicious eclipse revered by the Astiel for generations-became a herald of catastrophe.

The eclipse darkened the sky.

Moments later, the planet itself convulsed.

Earthquakes rolled through Lysna, shattering streets and collapsing lesser buildings. Hurricane-force winds tore through harbor districts, while tidal surges rose without warning, smashing ships against docks and dragging screaming citizens into the sea.

Whispers spread like wildfire.

“Is it a supreme-level battle…?”

“Are we under attack?!”

At the height of the chaos, a ship emerged at the central portal.

It was long, angular, forged from silver-black alloy etched with law formations that pulsed faintly with authority. Upon its hull was an unmistakable emblem- crossed swords balanced by scales.

The mark of the Magus Alliance Law Enforcement Division.

A hush fell across the portal plaza.

As soon as the ship fully materialized, its formations flared violently. Wind and spatial runes ignited together, and the vessel shot forward at terrifying speed, vanishing toward Eclipse Island in a streak of compressed air and distorted light.

Aboard the ship stood more than a dozen figures, most of whom were grand magus realm individuals clad in official uniforms.

As the enforcement vessel tore through the upper atmosphere, more figures began to appear ahead of them-groups fleeing in disarray from the direction of Eclipse Island.

Some were flying on shattered spirit wings, their auras flickering like dying flames. Others were supported by companions, blood trailing behind them in long crimson arcs.

The sight alone spoke louder than any report.

Inside the ship, silence reigned until the man at the center finally spoke.

His uniform was immaculate, his posture rigid, and his sharp, eagle-like eyes never left the chaotic scene unfolding ahead.

“Didn’t you say… That this was a lone grand magus?”

“Yes… High Inspector,” came the reply.

The speaker was Jinkan, Duchess of Amarhiks.

After escaping Eclipse Island, she had not fled to safety. Instead, she had turned back, calling upon the influence she possessed. Through the authority of her clan and her standing, she had managed to summon a High Inspector-a three-cosmos powerhouse-along with half a dozen elite inspectors, each a seasoned grand magus.

It was the strongest neutral force she could bring without directly implicating her own clan in a war against the Astiel.

She had believed it would be enough.

From a distance, Jinkan felt a measure of relief. The battle was still ongoing; whatever catastrophe had erupted had not yet concluded. That meant Emery was still alive.

But as the ship closed the distance, relief gave way to unease.

The air itself grew heavy.

Tremors began to pass through the hull. Sudden wind surges slammed against the vessel, followed by rolling shockwaves that distorted space for miles. The planet’s ley lines screamed in dissonance, their normally steady flow violently disrupted.

“What… is going on?”

When the ship drew within a thousand miles of Eclipse Island, the situation escalated further.

Massive pressure fronts rolled outward in waves, strong enough to force the ship’s defensive arrays to flare repeatedly. But what drew everyone’s attention was not the wind or the tremors.

It was the sound.

A roar.

Deep. Ancient. Monstrous.

It shook the sky itself, rattling even the souls of those aboard.

The High Inspector’s eyes narrowed.

“They are not fighting a man,” he said slowly. “They’re fighting a beast.”

With a sharp gesture, he cast a spell. A powerful wind domain unfurled around the vessel, layers of compressed airflow and spatial reinforcement wrapping the hull. The ship surged forward, speed multiplying as it punched through the

turbulence.

Minutes later, something changed.

The eclipse above finally began to pass

The oppressive force that had pressed down on the world for so long started to recede, and the ferocious fluctuations in the air weakened noticeably.

The ship’s alarms quieted.

The earth below stilled.

“Is it over…?” someone whispered.

“Are we too late?”

Then Eclipse Island came into view.

Or what remained of it.

The once-majestic floating island had shattered into dozens of hovering fragments, drifting like the remains of a broken continent. At the center of the devastation, pinned across the largest remaining landmass, was a creature that

made even grand magus go silent.

A wolf-beast.

Nearly thirty meters tall, its body a mass of dark, bristling fur and rippling muscle, scars and half-healed wounds crossing its form like marks of divine punishment. Its chest heaved with labored breaths, each exhale distorting the air around it. Embedded profound into its back was a massive golden cross, radiating holy restraint, its arms pinning the creature to the broken land like a judgment nailed into flesh.

Hovering before the beast-alone-was a single figure.

The Papal Cardinal.

His once-pristine robes were soaked in blood, his face ashen, lips moving ceaselessly as he chanted prayer after prayer. Golden script flared and dimmed

around him in erratic pulses as he poured every remaining fragment of power

into maintaining the seal.

When the enforcement vessel finally slowed and emerged from its wind

domain, the Cardinal’s eyes lifted.

Relief flickered across his battered features.

“Good heavens…” he rasped. “Help has arrived.”

The High Inspector stepped forward, his presence filling the deck like a drawn

blade.

“Holy one,” he said, his voice carrying effortlessly across the broken sky, “I am Rendry, High Inspector of the Magus Alliance. Tell us what has happened here.”

Before the Cardinal could answer, movement drew every eye.

From one of the smaller fragments below, a figure staggered into view.

Storm Lord.

His armor was shattered; there was barely a flicker of life left in him. He could

hardly move, yet rage still burned fiercely in his eyes as he pointed toward the

restrained beast.

“That beast!” he roared hoarsely. “It slaughtered everyone! Kill it! Bring justice

to our clan!”

The words struck like sparks in dry tinder.

The wolf-beast reacted instantly.

It reared back and roared, a sound so violent it tore through the air like a

physical force. The golden cross embedded in its back shuddered, inching outward as blood sprayed from the wound. The Cardinal staggered, coughing violently as the backlash slammed into him.

The inspectors tensed instantly, flying outward to encircle the creature.

Jinkan’s face drained of color.

“No-wait!” she shouted. “Inspector, please-listen to me! That beast is him!

That is Emery! -if you kill him now-“

Rendry cut her off coldly.

“I cannot allow a creature like that to endanger a holy official,” he said. “And it is

clear he has lost control.

Panic seized her.

She had miscalculated.

Someone within the Alliance-someone placed profound within Nephilim territory-was clearly a devout believer. The presence of the Cardinal had tilted

the scales beyond reason.