Earth's Greatest Magus

There was a saying that resonated deeply within the military hierarchy: one cosmos grand magus was worth a hundred regular magus, two cosmos grand magus worth a thousand, and three cosmos grand magus were worth ten thousand. From a strategic standpoint, sacrificing dozens of magus to eliminate a single grand magus was often seen as a fair trade.

"I want the female alive," Azula Raine's voice rang out with chilling command, "As for the old man... kill him."

Emery could sense the ruthlessness behind Azula Raine's orders.

The elven commander's cold calculation was clear—sacrificing the lives of a few dozen magus to eliminate a grand magus, especially one as the elderly two-cosmos Archie, his age and weakened state made him an easy target. There was also the royalty that would bring immeasurable military and political value, catapulting her status and guaranteeing her a mountain of military accolades and influence.

Azula's mocking laughter rang out as she watched the Valaryn princess and the elder grand magus, locked in a desperate struggle. It was clear now that she held significant authority over the elven forces; the two formidable grand magus—the dark elf with flowing hair and the scarred one—moved seamlessly under her command, their brutal attacks coordinated with precision. As they pressed on, Emery found himself surrounded by a tight ring of elven magus, nearly two dozen closing in on him with deadly intent.

Emery's focus narrowed. He knew this wasn't a fight to win—it was a fight to survive. He hardened his defenses and weaved between the attacks with every ounce of agility he could summon. His blade moved in controlled arcs, delivering lethal strikes to any magus reckless enough to charge too close. The designated twenty-minute mark arrived, the agreed time to withdraw whether they had achieved their goal or not. Emery's voice cut through the chaos, steady and urgent. "We need to retreat—now!"

But as the princess, ready to respond, a sickening sight halted them both: Grand Magus Archie faltered, his body swaying as he dropped to one knee. From his wounds, dark smoke rose, twisting like tendrils into the air.

"Poison!" Emery's voice was sharp, understanding the severity of their predicament.

Archie's face twisted in pain as he coughed, blood speckling his lips, but he still held his ground against the two relentless grand magus. Through gritted teeth, he called out to the princess. "Go! I'll hold them here… You must go!"

The princess's eyes flashed with determination, her jaw set as she ignored his command. "No, Archie. I won't leave you behind!"

Azula's smile widened, her eyes glinting with cruel amusement as she watched their exchange. "Both of you, aren't going anywhere."

Emery's jaw clenched as he assessed the situation. If they didn't move now, the poison would incapacitate the elderly grand magus, and their chance of escape would diminish to nothing. With a swift motion, he pulled out his prepared high-grade potions. The tier 6 [Cthulhu Bomb] along with vials filled with a special gray liquid, each concoction crafted precisely for situations like this.

Emery hurled them toward the elven ranks. The potions erupted in a cataclysmic explosion, the bomb sending shockwaves that tore through several elven warriors in a fiery blast. The gray vials shattered, releasing clouds of thick, swirling smoke that blanketed the chamber. The elven magus gasped, realizing something was off as the smoke wasn't just obscuring their vision—it was dampening their senses, cloaking auras, and disrupting their ability to track movements within.

"They're escaping!" Azula's voice cut through the smoke. She strained her senses, trying to pinpoint where her targets had gone.

Yet, Azula had miscalculated. Emery hadn't unleashed the bombs as a means to flee. Instead, he used the ensuing chaos to his advantage, exploiting the confusion to approach her under the cover of smoke. In an instant, he was upon her. With a fluid motion, he called forth his [Elysian Roots], resilient tendrils surging from his form to entwine her limbs. The roots coiled tightly, restricting her movements and sapping her energy with their natural, binding power.

"What?!" Azula's eyes widened in shock as she struggled against the roots, her usually composed demeanor slipping. She hadn't realized Emery's hidden capabilities; otherwise, she would never have allowed her grand magus protector to leave her side and join the fight

As the smoke dissipated, Emery emerged, holding Azula firmly in his grasp. He stood tall amidst the remaining elven forces, who paused, taken aback by the sight of their own leader held captive. "If anyone dares to move," Emery's voice was cold and commanding, "I will kill her!"

Azula thrashed against the vines, her face contorted with fury. "You human bastard! Let me go!"

But Emery tightened his grip, the vines constricting her arms and torso, forcing her to grit her teeth. Unfazed by her struggles, he held her in place. Defiantly, she still barked orders to her comrades, "Don't.... let... them escape!"

Her command caused some of the nearby magus to stir, but then the scar-faced grand magus lifted his hand, signaling them to hold. He stepped forward, his gaze hard as steel. "Release my lady… and I will let you leave," he said, his voice filled with unwavering loyalty.

Emery chuckled at the offer. "You think I'd fall for that? I'm not that gullible!"

With a surge of will, Emery unleashed a sharp spirit attack on Azula. Her eyes rolled back as she faltered under the psychic blow.

At his signal, Grand Magus Archie, still battling the effects of his poison and injury, steeled himself for one final effort. Gritting his teeth, he tapped into his remaining strength, unleashing his battlefield domain once more. His white lighting sword strikes create a path, clearing a route toward the designated rendezvous point on the southern wall where the barrier had already been breached.

Just moments later, a thunderous eruption shook the mountain, sending tremors rippling through the entire stronghold. The powerful clash of spells reverberated across the stronghold as the Ghostblade team engaged the elven commander, their battle also reaching its conclusion.

"Did they succeed?"

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