Earth's Greatest Magus



As Kieran confidently advanced, he sneered, "Huh!! Half moon… I see now why you are cowering in those caves!!"

Accompanying him were four dark elves, their auras equally menacing, if not more. Their eyes bore into Emery with a malevolence that sent shivers down the spines of mere mortals. Kieran's smirk widened as he continued, "It seems you've chosen to provoke the wrong elves. Today marks your end."

Emery's sharp instincts caught on quickly. The four weren't just any dark elves; they were elites. Their intricate tattoos and the aura they emanated were telltale signs. Coupled with the information he extract from the dark elves souls, Emery realized he was up against the Void Stalkers. Their reputation was whispered in fearful tones, even over the legendary Hashashi assassins. 

With every ounce of his being, Emery assessed the immediate threat. Five half-moon magus stood before him. Their strength was unquestionable, but Emery felt an unwavering resolve. He had faced dire situations before, and this was just another challenge.

On the other hand, the connection these elves had with the Khaos champion intrigued him. Providing more reason to fight them. To understand them, perhaps extract it from their very souls for himself.

Yet, a niggling concern lingered at the back of Emery's mind. Their leader, the champion of Khaos himself, would soon be joining this fray.

Emery's form, bathed in the soft glow of his Twilight mode, became the center of attention. He locked eyes with these dark elves magus and declared, "Let's make this quick"

No sooner had Emery's defiant words faded into the still air than his form became a blur, moving with an almost supernatural velocity towards one of the Void Stalkers nearest to him.

The targeted elf's pupils dilated in sheer surprise, clearly taken aback by the speed Emery exhibited. The wind howled past as Emery drew near, his claw gleaming menacingly, poised to strike. But just as victory seemed imminent, the elf shimmered and vanished, phasing out of space. He reappeared several meters away, his breathing heavy and eyes wide with a mix of fear and astonishment. The slight tremble in his stance spoke of the close call he'd just had.

Emery's voice rang out, a hint of both surprise and understanding, "Space magic!"

Swiveling swiftly on his heel, Emery assessed the situation. The dark elves had encircled him, their forms intermittently blinking in and out of existence, suggesting their mastery over the very fabric of space. Each warrior brandished a weapon that seemed to be an extension of their very essence, ready to strike.

As for Kieran the sleeks assassins has vanished into the shadows like a phantom, his voice echoing eerily around Emery, "I told you… you're doomed."

ραndαsΝοvεl ƈοm In cue, one of the dark elves - likely a commander of sorts - barked a terse command. Immediately, the four Void Stalkers launched a coordinated assault from all four angle, a deadly dance of flashing blades and arcane power.

But Emery remained unfazed. Drawing upon the raw, chaotic energy coursing within him, he invoked the [Jade roots]. From the very ground beneath their feet, hundreds of dark green tendrils erupted, writhing and twisting as they sought out the dark elves. They formed a veritable fortress of flora around Emery, a bastion against the relentless onslaught.

But these were no ordinary opponents. As adept space magicians, the Void Stalkers adapted rapidly. They began to phase in and out of the roots' grasp, evading their constricting hold with fluid ease. Their movements weren't just evasive; they were calculated. Instead of charging headlong, they kept a strategic distance, unleashing a barrage of ranged attacks, testing Emery's defenses and seeking any possible chinks in his armor.

The Void Stalkers were specials unit indeed.

Amongst the barrage of attacks Emery faced, searing firebolts streaked towards him, their intensity so fierce that it threatened to scorch even his resilient skin. Yet, that wasn't all. Thrown with deadly precision, a series of knives danced through the air, and just when Emery thought he had predicted their path, the knives would shift mid-flight, their trajectory altered through the dark elf's expertise in space magic.

The relentless assault took its toll. Within mere moments, Emery found himself pushed to his limits, every dodge, parry, and counterattack draining more of his energy.

As the battle raged on, the shadows themselves seemed to come alive, giving birth to Kieran, the shadow assassin. With movements as silent as a whisper, Kieran seized the opportune moment to strike from Emery's blind spot. The distinct sound of metal piercing flesh, resonated, followed by a cold, tingling sensation as the poison from Kieran's dagger began its treacherous journey within Emery's system.

Kieran retreated just as swiftly as he'd attacked, melting into the shadows once more, but not before letting out a triumphant exclamation, "I got him!! He's poisoned!" His wicked grin, visible for just a fleeting second, bore the satisfaction of a hunter landing a critical blow on his prey.

The elite dark elves had seen the deadly efficiency of Kieran's poison firsthand over their months together. Observing Emery's stiffened movements and seeming vulnerability, they smelled blood in the water. Believing their prey was weakened and ripe for the taking, they converged on him, weapons at the ready, eager to land the final blow.

But what they didn't know was Emery's trump card: the protection of the Khaos pestilence guardian, Chututlu, a formidable entity that rendered poisons and toxins utterly ineffective.

As the overconfident dark elves closed the distance, Emery, with a sudden burst of energy, lunged at the nearest one. In a swift, brutal motion, he ensnared the unsuspecting elf, his grip unyielding. And then, with a sickening crunch that echoed ominously, Emery snapped the magus's neck.

The remaining dark elves' faces contorting in a mix of shock and realization. One muttered, his voice laden with disbelief and dread, "It's a trick!"

Unfortunately for them, poison was not Emery's only strength, he was also a space magic user, hence he knew exactly how their spell works.

Gathering all his spirit energy, Emery focused it into his core, allowing it to build and surge with a palpable intensity, then, releasing it in an explosive surge, he let out a powerful wolf howl, echoing through the landscape.

HOWWLLL!

The soundwave wasn't just any cry. It was an intricately woven tapestry of sonic vibrations, designed to target the psyche. The dark elves, despite their prowess in space magic, found themselves defenseless against this kind of assault. They couldn't simply phase out of it.

As the mental shockwaves hit them, the trio of elves crumbled. They fell unceremoniously, their connection to space magic momentarily severed, they were exposed and vulnerable.

But Emery wasn't finished. From the very ground they lay upon, dark roots, imbued and sprang forth. Like sinister serpents, the tendrils wrapped around the fallen elves, binding them, constricting tighter and tighter, the sound of breaking bones echoing as they applied their deathly embrace.

Yet, amidst the cacophony of the elves' dying screams, one figure emerged, seemingly unscathed. Kieran, with his formidable strength and agility, slashed through the ensnaring roots with his gleaming light blade, each stroke a testament to his skill. His face, usually composed, now bore an expression of horror and disbelief as he watched the elites void stalkers being torn apart.

Kieran, the once-proud shadow magus had turned pale, the weight of the situation sinking in. The shadow magus, had always thrived in the chaos of battle, but now he found himself frozen, locking eyes with Emery. 

He was in rage but he dare not to fight him, the elf was ready to flee back to shadows. 

But before he could vanish, an excruciating pain lanced through his soul. It was as though his very essence was being torn apart, each thread of his being set aflame. He fell to his knees, trembling, his eyes filled with shock and agony.

"How...," he gasped, his voice barely above a whisper. He looked at Emery, his eyes wide, and saw the answer in the half-blood wolf's hand. The warden's device, an object of control and submission, was being used against him.

Emery's gaze was cold, unyielding as he met Kieran's desperate eyes. "You are not running again this time, Wait for your turn."

The words were a death sentence, and they rang in Kieran's ears as Emery turned his attention back to the remaining dark elves. With a thought, he strengthened his roots spell, the dark tendrils tightening, constricting, crushing. The dark elves' screams were like a symphony of terror, echoing through the citadel, filling the air with their agony.

It took mere seconds for them to die, their blood splattering the ground and their spirit soul forcefully taken. The silence that followed was deafening, filled with the weight of death and victory.

It was at that moment that three spaceships flew across the citadel's air.

A portal was created within the yard, its edges crackling with energy, and out stepped Ezekiel, his face twisted in anger seeing the fate of his men.

Emery turned to face him, his expression calm, his words filled with an icy challenge. "What took you so long?"

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