Earth's Greatest Magus

Chapter 2618: People’s Champion

“Earth faction has taken their second win! The score is now tied, 2 to 2!”

The broken form of Morpheus was carried off the battlefield by Kronos medics. The once-proud spirit master had been utterly outmaneuvered—his body limp, bound by the intricate array Klea had set.

But she, too, was in no better shape.

Blood dripped steadily from her lips. Her posture sagged with fatigue as she limped back toward Earth’s corner. Every step looked painful, yet when one of the medics approached her, she waved them away.

“I will remain,” she said, her voice hoarse but unwavering. She turned to the other Earth magus with determination. “We need to see who we’re up against next.”

A calculated decision. A common tactic in such a tournament.

If Klea stayed on the field, the Kronos faction would be forced to reveal their next fighter before Earth did—an immense strategic advantage. And though everyone could see she had no intention of actually fighting again, her mere presence served as a gambit.

On the other side of the arena, Zeus wore a thunderous expression. His eyes blazed with quiet fury, his jaw clenched at the humiliation of Morpheus’ defeat. Never had he imagined one of their elder would fall—especially not to a half-moon girl of Earth. Kronos, his father, remained still and silent, arms folded, unreadable.

But others were less restrained.

Ares, Kronos god of war, stepped forward, eager and smirking. “Patriarch, let me fight next. I’ll take two wins and remind them of their place.”

Among the Kronos ranks, Ares was the pride of the faction—their new grand magus general, both fierce and tactically brilliant. But not everyone agreed with his choice.

“That’s overkill,” Poseidon muttered from his seat, arms crossed. “Sending a grand magus against a battered girl? It reeks of desperation.”

The two generals began to argue. Kronos lifted a hand, silencing them with a look. Then, thoughtfully, he turned toward the magus-level fighters waiting behind him. He weighed his decision to choose one of the least powerful magus, a finisher, not a general.

Before he could speak, Hera’s voice cut through like silver.

“You men are so easily fooled,” she said with a sly chuckle. Her sharp eyes glittered like stormlight. “She’s acting. That girl is dangerous—this is all a ruse to bait us into sending our weakest.”

The others looked at her in disbelief.

Hera, cunning and cruel, was rarely trusted, and her words weren’t easy to accept. After all, Klea glanced half-dead. But still… could it be?

Kronos could not suffer another embarrassing defeat.

Hera smiled wider and pointed at one of the waiting magus. “Send him. He’s not the weakest, but he came from the younger generation. Win or lose, we would not be much affected. Also, his ability is perfect against her”

All eyes turned to the man.

There was a pause. Several magus raised their eyebrows; notably, Zeus glanced sideways at her, frowning in suspicion. The man Hera referred to had long been the target of her scorn. To hear her recommend him now was… unexpected.

A towering figure stepped forward, muscular and confident, with bronzed skin and a lion’s mane of hair. He was wrapped in chains of celestial iron, a mace slung across his back.

“Alright… you go,” said Kronos, agreeing.

The man nodded silently and stepped into the light of the arena.

The crowd erupted into a frenzy.

“HERACLES! HERACLES! HERACLES!!”

The chanting grew deafening as the crowds rose to their feet. Unlike most of Kronos’ champions, Heracles was beloved—not feared. A mortal-born man who once defied the gods themselves, only to discover he was Zeus’ illegitimate son. Though Hera had loathed him for it, the people revered him.

Many believed that if Heracles had received the same divine resources as his half-brother Ares, he would have also broken into a grand magus realm.

He raised both arms high, letting the crowd’s chant fuel him. The coliseum shook with the roar of tens of thousands.

He was their hero.

And now, he would be their avenger.

Klea recognized him instantly. They had clashed once during the Celestial Expedition, and though Earth won that skirmish, Heracles had grown far stronger since, a full moon magus. And she… she was far from her prime.

Hermes and Iris swooped above the field, dazzling the crowd before calling the next round.

“Let the match begin!”

At the shout, Klea moved first.

As Hera had predicted, Klea was far from exhausted; she didn’t waste time, and her six formation flags pulsed to life instantly, the arena flaring with layered arrays.

The first was a binding circle, aimed at locking Heracles in place. The second pulsed with volatile energy—a high-tier explosive sigil meant to weaken his defense.

But Heracles did not falter.

He growled low in his throat and stepped forward. The ground shuddered. Then, a dull boom echoed as he activated his signature technique.

[Titan’s Body]—an ancient battle spell he had trained to perfection. It granted him immense physical power and near-absolute resistance to magical effects.

This was the reason Heracles was chosen.

The magical bombardment from Klea’s formations struck him head-on.

And it was unable to stop him.

With a violent surge, Heracles ripped through the binding circle, his feet cracking the arena tiles. The explosive sigil flared— then fizzled against his magical resistance. The enchantments shattered like glass against steel.

From his back, Heracles drew forth a massive iron mace—He roared and slammed it into the arena floor.

KABOOM!!

Stone tiles cracked and exploded outward. Dust flew in a ring. Klea was thrown backward, barely stabilizing in time with a shield array flaring at her feet.

The impact shattered the second and third layers of her formation. A crater formed where Heracles stood, his figure framed in dust and glowing energy like a wrathful titan descending from myth.

Klea gritted her teeth. She wasn’t afraid—she couldn’t afford to be. Her hands moved swiftly, already sketching a new array midair.

But she knew this would be a brutal uphill battle.

Heracles wasn’t just here to win.

He was here to crush.

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