Earth's Greatest Magus

Fighting a grand magus figure was a daunting feat, especially against someone like Syltrith—a top-tier assassin of the Hasashi clan. Emery was taken aback when the form of his target suddenly dissolved into a wisp of grey smoke, leaving no trace of her physical form.

His brow furrowed as he tried to make sense of it. Was it a clone? he thought, but before he could fully process it, a second "clone" appeared, much like the first, but this one was different. Before it disintegrated, it managed to land a blow—sharp, painful, and real.

These were physical manifestations that carried real force. They weren't mere clones—they were something more advanced, perhaps akin to Emery's true clone technique.

Landing a decisive blow on Syltrith proved impossible. Her forms darted through the battlefield with an unnatural grace, weaving between the shadows and the endless expanse of her misty domain. Every attack he unleashed—whether it was his devastating [Shadow Edge], his potent nature spells, or dark spells—struck nothing but empty air or dissipating smoke.

Frustration bubbled within him, but he forced himself to stay focused. There had to be a secret beyond such a technique.

VIA's presence filled his mind, offering a barrage of data, an alarming pattern: Sylrith had used similar techniques to eliminate many grand magus before him.

"How to break away from this!!"

The bombardment continued. Each strike chipped away at Emery's defenses, forcing him to expend more energy regenerating his armor and healing his wounds. Emery could feel the toll it was taking on him, his stamina steadily waning.

"You're tougher than they say!" Sylrith's voice echoed through the mist, her mocking tone rippling through Emery's resolve. "Hahaha, it's better this way. I want to see how much longer you can last!"

Emery was tempted to unleash his primal form, but then a spark of insight struck him as he received a piece of valuable information.

"This might be how she's doing it," he muttered, his determination renewed. "Let's hope this works."

Emery brought his hands together, channeling two opposing forces—nature energy in one and Khaos energy in the other. The balance between the two powers was delicate, requiring every ounce of his concentration. Sweat beaded on his brow as Syltrith's relentless attacks rained down on him, each strike testing his resolve.

His body ached under the strain, his defenses buckling with each blow. Yet, he pressed on, focusing entirely on the energy converging in his palms. Slowly, the opposing forces began to merge, forming a volatile, swirling mass of raw power—[Dao Matter].

With a roar, Emery unleashed the energy, not throwing at a target but igniting it into an explosion that rippled through the battlefield.

KABOOMMMM!!!

The shockwave blasted the grey smoke apart, scattering Syltrith's misty domain. The force of the blast sent Emery staggering, his body wracked with pain from the backlash. Still, he forced himself to stay upright, his eyes scanning the disrupted battlefield.

Amidst the dissipating mist, a figure emerged—Syltrith, her true form, clutching her side as blood seeped through her robes. The explosion had caught her off guard, wounding her in the process.

It was the perfect opportunity to strike, but Emery didn't move toward her. Instead, he turned his attention to the dozen magus assassins scattered nearby, their positions now exposed. ṘаɴôΒƐṩ

Emery decisively cast his gravity spell, [Attractions], It was a low-level gravity spell but activated with the force of Khaos, it became devastatingly effective, pulling the elf magus toward him like moths to a flame.

They struggled against the force, but Emery was relentless.

His Void Blade ignited, and with a single, decisive swing, he slashed through three magus in one blow. Without pausing, he activated [Spectral Gaze], his piercing mental attack shattering the defenses of several more. They crumpled to the sand, their bodies limp as they fell into unconsciousness.

By the time Syltrith recovered enough to intervene, half of her forces lay dead or incapacitated.

"You damn bastard!" she snarled, her expression twisted with rage. "How did you know?"

Emery had guessed correctly: the secret behind Syltrith's Cloud Prison was a Hex formation created through the combined power of her assassins, granting her a formidable ability.

Initially, Emery had thought it strange that Syltrith hadn't sent her warriors to attack him directly. They had stood on the sidelines, seemingly uninvolved. Suprisingly a new intel confirmed a troubling pattern—she always brought her men whenever she executed someone using the terrifying Cloud Prison. "Huh! I can still kill you without it!" she spat, her voice dripping with venom.

Syltrith's confidence remained unshaken, and it wasn't without merit. Even without the Cloud wave prison, she was a formidable foe. Her explosive speed, combined with her ability to manipulate the air, made her movements erratic and nearly impossible to predict. She danced through the battlefield with lethal precision, weaving her attacks through the remnants of her misty domain. Though diminished, the haze still disrupted Emery's senses, dulling his perception and forcing him to rely on his instincts.

The battle dragged on, an exhausting and relentless clash of strength, speed, and wits. Emery pushed himself to the limit, meeting each of Syltrith's attacks with calculated counters. His strikes, though powerful, seemed only to scratch the surface of her defenses. As the fight wore on, Emery recognized the need to change his approach. The battle of attrition wasn't in his favor.

Syltrith lunged again, her claws slicing through the air with incredible speed. This time, Emery didn't evade. Instead, he braced himself, letting her strike land squarely on his chest. Pain exploded through his ribs, but the moment her claws made contact, he acted. His Elysian roots surged forth, entangling her body and holding her in place. Her expression flickered with shock, but it was too late.

Caught in his grasp, Syltrith struggled fiercely. Her agility had always been her greatest weapon, but now, pinned and immobilized, she was vulnerable. Emery began his assault. His blade claw tore through her defenses, each strike landing with devastating force.

"ARRGHH!!!"

Syltrith screamed in pain, but the female Grand Magus wasn't finished yet. With a desperate cry, she unleashed another defensive spell, shattering the roots that bound her and breaking free.

"You're not going anywhere!" Emery roared.

Before he could pursue her, Syltrith's remaining magus assassins leaped into the fray, desperate to save their leader. They charged at Emery, their weapons gleaming and spells crackling with energy. But their efforts were futile. Emery tore through the group with savage efficiency, their attacks barely leaving a scratch on his body.

One assassin fell, then another, their screams lost in the chaos of the battlefield.

Finally, only Syltrith remained battered and bleeding. She stared up at him, her expression wavering between disbelief and despair.

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