Earth's Greatest Magus

Chapter 2616: Her Will

The crystal Klea shattered was no ordinary item—it was a condensed vessel of her own spirit energy, carefully stored in advance using her unique ability [Recharge]. Unlike potions or foreign energy sources, this reservoir was intimately hers, refined from her own essence. As it surged into her core, her depleted spirit pool bloomed back to life in an instant, brimming with renewed strength.

A glint of silver flickered in Morpheus’ eyes as he watched her stand tall again. Amusement laced his voice. “Your surprise assault failed. And now you think you can win a battle of attrition?” He gave a low chuckle.

Klea only smiled, the corner of her mouth lifting in defiance. She said nothing. Her answer came in motion.

She burst forward once more, her sword gleaming with a storm of elements—wind, water, lightning, and ice—all woven with masterful precision. Each swing painted a spectacle across the arena, drawing cheers and gasps alike. She wasn’t just attacking; she was performing. Her elemental affinity danced in each strike.

But beauty alone could not pierce Morpheus’ defense. Time and again, her blade met a spiritual shield, invisible yet impenetrable. Each critical strike she attempted was halted by some unseen force—diverted, absorbed, or deflected just enough to lessen its fatal intent.

Her swords shattered—one after the other. But not her will.

She retrieved another sword, another crystal. Her breath grew heavier, but her steps remained steady. She would endure.

Morpheus watched with a mix of pity and disdain. “A half-moon like you… will never defeat me.”

It was a cruel truth. Despite Klea’s exceptional mastery over multiple laws, it was her very versatility that hindered her advancement to the full-moon realm. She was a hybrid magus—brilliant, adaptive—but none of her spells had the overwhelming might of a singularly mastered path.

Morpheus took a breath, and then everything changed. His silver eyes began to glow.

A wave of force struck Klea—not physical, not magical, but spiritual. It felt like a thousand invisible blades stabbing into her mind, scraping through her thoughts.

She screamed and dropped to her knees, trembling, clutching her head. The arena blurred. The pain was not of the flesh—it was deeper, crueler.

And then, through sheer will, she managed to chant.

[Sea Soul Restoration]

A silver glyph burst above her forehead, washing her spirit in clarity. The blades faded, and her focus returned. She gasped for breath, rising again.

Morpheus tilted his head, intrigued. “Impressive. Strong mental defenses… Now I see why they choose you.”

Klea wasted no words. Mist surged around her as she invoked another spell—concealing her form in fog, obscuring her position. Then, with another [Spirit Explosion], she blitzed forward like a bolt of living lightning, her new sword aimed straight at Morpheus’s back.

This was her chance. Her opening.

But—

BAM!

Wings erupted from Morpheus’ back—ethereal, jagged, and laced with spiritual blades. They slammed shut like a guillotine, intercepting her strike. Her sword splintered once more.

Klea was thrown backward, skidding across the arena floor.

Breathing hard now, sweat dripping from her brow, she stood on trembling legs. The toll of her own techniques was catching up to her.

Morpheus laughed quietly, not in joy, but in pity. “You really thought illusions would work on a spirit master?” he mocked. “I thought you were supposed to be the clever one.”

“There is no need to delay this further,” Morpheus said softly. Then he turned his gaze to the imperial box of the Kronos faction. His eyes met Kronos’s own.

A silent exchange passed between them, a confirmation.

Morpheus nodded once. Then turned back to Klea.

“This ends now,” he declared.

Then his eyes began to glow—bright silver at first, before turning an eerie, soul-deep violet. The air shifted. Energy swirled unnaturally.

A thick, purplish mist exploded outward from his body, blanketing the arena floor in an instant. It oozed like fog laced with ink, obscuring everything—blurring even sound. From within it, movement stirred.

Grotesque creatures emerged from it—chimeras stitched from nightmares, crawling, slithering, limping forward with jaws gaping. Dozens of them. Then hundreds. Each more monstrous than the last.

With bestial howls and mindless shrieks, they lunged for her.

Klea’s instincts flared—her sword snapped up in defense, a gust of wind magic blasting one creature aside. Another leapt, and she incinerated it with a fork of lightning.

But for each monster felled, three more emerged.

Her heart raced. Teeth, claws, the stench of rot—all of it surrounded her. She fought desperately, her spells devastated the creatures.

Fear clamped down on her chest. Her breath hitched.

But the creatures kept coming.

Endlessly.

Then came the smaller ones.

Thousands of skittering, spider-like abominations, no larger than fists. They swarmed the floor, crawling over her boots. She stomped and spun, lightning pulsing from her feet. But it was like trying to stop a flood with bare hands.

They clung to her legs. Crawled up her thighs. Wrapped around her arms. Their needle-like legs pierced her robes.

“NO!!” she screams, panic overtaking discipline.

And then—

A light.

Brilliant and warm, cutting through the purple fog.

From above, a figure descended like a god. Cloaked in gold and white, wrapped in sunlight.

It’s him, the one she has been waiting for, longing for.

With a wave of his hand, vines surged from the ground, stone guardians erupted, and the grotesque creatures were obliterated.

Klea’s eyes widened. “Emery… you’re back…”

“I’m sorry for keeping you waiting,” he said gently.

She ran to him… threw her arms around him. In his embrace, the monsters vanished. The fear melted. The arena was nothing—only his warmth mattered.

“But… this is a duel. You can’t interfere. We’ll be disqualified…” she whispered.

Emery smiled, lifting his hand. The power of domain surged, showing his grand magus realm. The purple mist evaporated. His gaze turned to the Kronos faction, cold and unwavering.

“Don’t worry,” he said. “Now that I’m here… I’ll defeat them all.”

Klea’s heart pounded with hope. She saw him fighting—Poseidon, Ares, even Zeus—all falling before him. Finally, Kronos himself descended, and Emery met him without fear. The gods trembled. Earth stood victorious.

It was perfect.

It was like a dream.

Unfortunately

Dream all it was

There were no grotesque creatures.No purple mist.No Emery.

All along, Klea had been standing alone—locked in a soul battle, her mind ensnared in illusion. The battlefield was silent, empty of horrors, but heavy with dread.

Across from her, Morpheus advanced slowly. His footsteps were unhurried, almost lazy, as if the outcome had already been decided. His eyes, cold and merciless, never left her.

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