Greatest Legacy of the Magus Universe

Chapter 1811 Ghost From the Past

The world was drowned in blinding light.

Then came the shockwave. A colossal ring of destruction exploded outward from the point of impact, sweeping across the battlefield with tyrannical force.

The earth cracked and caved in. Mountains of rubble were blasted into the air. Countless trees beyond the blackened crater were violently uprooted as hurricane-like winds tore through the air.

The sky itself seemed to split apart. The distant clouds were scattered across the horizon, while the sea of smoke and dust covering the battlefield was completely erased.

And then, silence followed…

A gigantic crater occupied the center of the battlefield. It was nearly a hundred meters deep. Its edges were jagged and molten, while countless cracks stretched outward like the roots of a colossal tree.

The grotesque creature from the Underworld was gone. Eradicated before it could even be fully summoned. The portion that had emerged into the material world had been completely obliterated by the collision.

As for the spectacular blood dragon… it, too, had vanished. The immense construct born from the combined magic of the Dark King and the Heavenly Demon had spent every last drop of power in that final attack.

Dust slowly drifted through the air.

At the center of the crater stood a lone figure.

The Cult Leader of the Cult of Bones.

His skeletal frame was covered in cracks. Several ribs had shattered completely. The massive fracture on his skull had widened considerably, and the green flames within his sockets flickered weakly.

His skeletal frame was covered in cracks. Several ribs had shattered completely. The massive fracture on his skull had widened considerably, and the green flames within his sockets flickered weakly.

Yet he was still standing — albeit barely.

A heavy and oppressive aura radiated from him, distorting the air around him. Although greatly injured, he still stood proud and victorious and menacing.

And several hundred meters away, Adam and the Heavenly Demon miserably lay upon the ruined ground.

Adam had practiced the Astral Tyrant Manual, tempering his body until it was sturdy and resilient as that of a Paladin. As a result, although he was bloodied and battered, his body still remained largely intact after the backlash of the previous spell.

But the same couldnʼt be said for the Heavenly Demon...

The combined spell had exacted a heavy toll on him. As a result, one of his arms was gone. So were both of his legs. They had been completely obliterated by the aftereffects of the clash.

So there was no hope of regenerating them. It wasnʼt like he had enough mana to do that, anyway.

He violently coughed blood as he struggled to remain conscious. He couldnʼt pass out now. The Hermitʼs lantern fastened to his waist pulsed faintly. There was still one last thing left for him to do.

The Heavenly Demon weakly gazed at Adam and murmured, ”This is it…”

Adam pushed himself to his knees, vomiting several times in the process. He turned to his avatar and noticed the wretched state he was in. He couldnʼt help but feel a pang of regret and sadness in his heart. But the next moment, his dark eyes flashed with resolve. He inhaled deeply and nodded.

The battle had entered its final moments.

”The Beyond… the Beyond… the Beyond,” the lich muttered under his breath as he slowly made his way toward the two.

”I donʼt know how you came to learn about it,” he continued, his tone filled with confusion, anger, and madness.

”I donʼt know how you managed to deal with the corruption.”

His movements were unsteady. One of his legs dragged slightly across the shattered ground. Chunks of bones occasionally broke away from his body and tumbled to the ground.

The green flames continued to flicker weakly, as though they might extinguish at any moment. Yet, he continued forward.

”No matter,” he said. ”If you know about it… then your body and mind are corrupted. You are not fit to be my vessel.”

At last, he crossed the distance and stopped before Adam and the Heavenly Demon.

He weaved a set of hand seals and a bone spear slowly manifested in his hands.

”I told you,” he continued. ”You will perish. Your army will be defeated. And this world will be sacrificed to the devils.”

The Cult Leader cast a contemptuous glance at the Heavenly Demon, who was already at deathʼs doorstep, and judged that he did not need immediate attention.

The flames in his sockets flared intensely as he turned his attention to the Dark King. His grip around the ivory spear tightened. Then he slowly raised the weapon and aimed it at the kneeling youth.

He coldly declared:

”I win.”

The next moment, the spear shot forward. It pierced straight through Adamʼs chest.

But something was wrong…

Adamʼs figure flickered erratically, like a faulty reflection. Like an image struggling to remain real. Then it vanished altogether.

At the same time, the lantern hanging from the Heavenly Demonʼs waist finally dimmed. Its faint glow disappeared. The illusion ended. And his lips slowly curled into a smirk.

The Cult Leaderʼs heart sank, and the flames in his eyes constricted.

He instinctively spun around and prepared to attack. But the moment he saw who stood behind him, he froze in utter disbelief.

He saw a ghost from the past.

And what happened next completely shattered him.

A dashing young man with dark hair and brown eyes stood there. He radiated a gentle aura, and his smile was warm and radiant. He slowly raised a hand and gently waved at the lich.

”Long time no see… Wagner.”

The lich was thunderstruck. He had never expected to see this person. Memories came flooding back.

The two of them traveling the world together. Facing dangers side by side. Forging a friendship deeper than brotherhood. Searching for clues to escape this world and reach something greater beyond it.

And ultimately… his betrayal.

The memories struck the lich like a tidal wave. His body trembled uncontrollably as he was overwhelmed by the past.

His jaws parted, and he murmured in shock, grief, and pain:

”…Bartholomew?”

The dashing young manʼs smile slowly widened as he nodded. ”Itʼs me, Wagner.”

”Y-You… h-how…” the lich struggled to find the words to speak.

Bartholomew interrupted him with the same smile on his face. ”So did you find it? A way to leave this world.”

”I…” Memories of the fateful day flooded the lichʼs mind.

The day when he killed his best friend.

The day he made a pact with the devil.

The day he embarked on the path of lichdom.

The day when everything changed.

Bartholomewʼs smile turned bitter and full of sadness. He then asked in a gentle voice:

”Was it worth it?”

The lichʼs figure trembled again.

Was all of it really worth it, in the end?

”I…” The lich couldnʼt find the right words.

And just when the Cult of Leader was drowning in shock, regret, and sorrow, Bartholomew — or rather, Adam — silently formed the final hand seal and cast his spell.

A spell that served as a reminder that no matter how long the darkness endured, the light would always return.

It was a spell that symbolized hope.

[Minaʼs Requiem]

In the blink of an eye, a field of white daffodils bloomed from the earth.

Aldo Wagner finally snapped back to his senses and realized what had happened.

But he didnʼt have time to react.

It was already too late.

A cold light streaked through the air as Adam shot past him, swinging the Blades of Fulgrim in a clean arc.

The lichʼs skull separated from his spine.

His vision spun several times before his head landed amidst the field of white flowers. A moment later, his decapitated body collapsed as well.

White petals drifted through the air like snow.

They gently settled upon the lichʼs remains. Then their edges turned sharp.

The petals sliced through bone after bone, thoroughly destroying the skeletal remains until nothing was left behind. The flames in the sockets had vanished long before the skull itself was reduced to dust.

Only the field of white daffodils remained, swaying softly in the wind.

Rest in peace, my dear mother, Mina...