Earth's Greatest Magus

Emery arrived at the Golden Mansion under a sky washed in late-afternoon gold.

The last time he had walked these marble paths, the Karat headquarters had been divided by tension and blood-two brothers locked in a struggle that nearly tore the faction apart. Today, however, the atmosphere was disciplined and orderly. Formation arrays shimmered faintly across the walls, and elite guards stood at precise intervals along the corridors.

With Morgana still refining her realm within the Divine Instrument facility, Emery arrived accompanied by Klea and Rosia. Hassa and Veyarel awaited them at the entrance, before leading them inward.

As Emery advanced, he sensed the presence of at least three dozen grand magus within the central compound alone. Their auras were restrained yet formidable, layered with the distinct signatures of different laws. The Karat faction had never been known for overwhelming military might, yet rumors spoke of more than two hundred grand magus in their employ-a number rivaling many established Grade Four factions.

It was a quiet display of strength.

The hall itself was vast and austere. Pillars of polished stone rose toward a domed ceiling etched with cosmic constellations. At the far end, seated upon an elevated platform, was the patriarch of the Karat faction.

Rosin Karat.

The legendary Supreme figure.

Emery stepped forward and offered a respectful salute. Klea and Rosia followed suit.

The moment Emery’s gaze settled upon the elder, a flicker of realization crossed his mind. Rosin Karat radiated immense authority, yet the elder displayed the cultivation of a peak Three Cosmos grand magus-not a Supreme.

“Ah, Emery,” Rosin uttered warmly. “I am glad to see you again.”

His gaze shifted to Klea. “And congratulations on your wedding. I regret that I was unable to attend.”

Emery glanced briefly at Klea, realizing she and Rosia had maintained contact with the patriarch during his absence. More than ten years had passed since his last meeting with Rosin, yet the elder’s presence still carried the same composed authority.

They spoke first of recent events-the Nephilim incident, the court ruling, and the implications of Emery’s forced service under Alliance merit obligations. Rosin said calmly.

“Now that the Earth faction has proceeded to Grade Two, there are many opportunities open” the elder turned to Hassa.

“Assist them where you can.”

Hassa immediately agreed. He was already aware of Emery’s expansion plans in Dawnstar City and offered support-manpower, funding, and even access to Karat resources if necessary.

He went so far as to offer access to the Karat treasure vault.

Emery declined politely, reminding them that the Karat had already provided significant help, and that Tessa continued to work tirelessly on Earth faction matters. Still, after refusing, he briefly regretted his modesty.

Rosin gave a faint chuckle, as if he had seen through that fleeting thought.

“I am glad to see you again, Emery,” the patriarch continued. “But I did not call you here only to reminisce.”

His expression grew more serious.

“This concerns the Tartarus Realm.”

Rosin spoke evenly, explaining that the Magus Alliance had begun pressing the Karat faction for a renewed expedition.

These past few years, the Alliance’s curiosity had deepened into insistence. They wanted more than reports. They wanted access.

Tessa had warned him this might happen. Emery had already anticipated that his return-and the official registration of Kayelin, Feyanor, and Soltz-would trigger further scrutiny. It was only a matter of time before similar pressure reached him as well.

“I do not object to aiding the Alliance,” Rosin said calmly. “Reopening a route to a new realm would benefit us all-especially in uncertain times.”

He paused briefly, his gaze steady.

“However, as you can see, I have not fully recovered. The same applies to Veyarel.

There was no need to elaborate; the subtle imbalance in their auras was evident.

“So I wished to ask,” Rosin continued, “whether you would consider joining me on this expedition.”

Hearing the request, Emery could not help but freeze for a brief moment.

So many matters were already weighing on him-Dawnstar’s expansion, Earth’s long-term security, the unresolved political currents within the Alliance. And beyond all that, he had only just begun to reclaim time with Klea after years of separation and danger. The thought of stepping into another perilous cross-realm expedition felt distant, almost unreasonable.

He did not even need to speak; the hesitation in his eyes said enough.

“I apologize, Elder,” Emery said quietly. “I cannot. Not now.”

Rosin’s response was immediate-and unexpectedly gentle.

“Of course. I understand.”

There was no disappointment in his tone.

“Do not worry. I simply needed to ask.”

The patriarch assured him that arrangements were already in place and that Emery bore no obligation. The words were reassuring, yet Emery perceived something beneath them-a subtle tension in Hassa’s posture, a restrained

gravity in Veyarel’s expression

Before Emery could inquire further, Rosin shifted the topic.

“The Nether Realm scourge has begun appearing in the Beta quadrant as well,” he said. “I have heard of the antidote you developed”

Emery nodded. He explained that he remained in contact with Linnaeus, the Arbor Master at Alfa Station, refining a more potent cure. He pledged to share all research and findings with the Apothecary Guild of Golden City. Rosin inclined his head approvingly. “Such knowledge may save countless lives.” The meeting concluded soon after. Once exit the hall, Emery turned to Hassa

and Veyarel.

“Tell me the truth,” he said quietly. “What is really happening with the elder?”

The two exchanged a glance.

Veyarel exhaled first. “It is not the expedition that concerns us most.”

Hassa’s composure faltered slightly.

“My father,” he said at last, “is preparing for his second major calamity.”

Silence filled the chamber.

This was the law of the universe. Once a cultivator reached the grand magus

realm and fully linked their existence to cosmic laws, the heavens would begin to “measure” them periodically. For grand magus, the cycle came roughly every two hundred years-two minor tribulations followed by one major, a total of five to six hundred years.

These calamities were not random; they were cosmic audits, testing whether

the cultivator’s foundation matched the power they wielded.

For a Supreme realm existence, however, the interval extended to one thousand years, a total of three millennia per cycle.

Rosin Karat had lived for nearly an era, ten thousands years. He had stood at the supreme realm for close to six thousand years of cultivation. And now, he was approaching his second cycle of major Supreme tribulation.

Such a calamity was no ordinary storm.

It could become a blessing-refining the cultivator’s origin, allowing a breakthrough beyond the current ceiling. Or it could erase them entirely. “There is no certainty,” Veyarel added quietly. “If he overcomes it, the Karat faction will ascend to unprecedented heights. If he fails…”

He did not finish the sentence.

Both Hassa and Veyarel had urged Rosin to avoid unnecessary danger-to focus

solely on stabilizing his realm and preparing for the tribulation. A cross-realm expedition into Tartarus was unpredictable at best and catastrophic at worst.

“But the patriarch insists,” Hassa said. “He believes securing Tartarus now will

strengthen the faction before the storm arrives.”

Emery understood.

Rosin was not merely thinking of himself. He was securing leverage, alliances, and resources in case he did not survive.

Neither Hassa nor Veyarel wished to force Emery into involvement. They had followed the patriarch’s will, they would not pressure him.

Emery absorbed the weight of it all in silence.

“When is the expedition?” he asked.

“The Alliance wishes it to proceed as soon as possible,” Veyarel replied. “But

with current negotiations and needed preparations for us to recover, the window is estimated within ten years”

Ten years..

For mortals, it was a long span. For cultivators at their level, it was fleeting.

Emery understood that the Karat faction did not lack powerful grand magus. Even without him, they could assemble a formidable expedition force, and the Magus Alliance would certainly dispatch additional experts to ensure success. In terms of raw strength, Tartarus would not intimidate them.

But this was not merely a matter of numbers.

He knew his presence would carry a different kind of weight. Among all those

who might set foot in Tartarus, he was the one who had built genuine ties there. The Pardera courts had dealt with him directly. The Fey Kingdom had blood relation with him. He was not just a visitor-he was a recognized figure

within that realm.

That connection could turn suspicion into dialogue. It could prevent unnecessary bloodshed. It could shape the entire outcome of the expedition. As his thoughts deepened, another possibility surfaced.

If he returned to Tartarus, it might also grant him the chance to assess the final stage of the Skyroot Heaven and Earth trials-something he had not yet fully completed. In the right circumstances, it could serve as the crucible he needed.

From a broader perspective, Rosin’s reasoning was not without merit. Reopening a route to Tartarus would not only benefit the Karat faction-it could elevate the Earth faction as well. Trade routes, rare materials, strategic alliances-such advantages could accelerate Earth’s rise far beyond conventional timelines.

Yet the timing unsettled him.

Ten years.

Ten years to consolidate Dawnstar. Ten years to strengthen Earth’s defenses.

Ten years to stabilize his own layered cosmos and deepen his understanding of

Origin.

It was indeed too soon.

But it was not impossible.

Emery remained silent for a moment longer, his gaze distant. If the expedition

truly proceeded within that window, he would need to ensure that when the

time came, he would not step into Tartarus as a burden.

He would step in ready.