Earth's Greatest Magus

Chapter 2709: The Situation

The Azure Kraken tore through the void like a spear of shadowed light, its hull shimmering faintly against the distortions of warp space. At ten times the standard cruising speed, the vessel was little more than a phantom streak blazing across the star charts.

Inside the captain quarters, Emery sat in stillness, legs folded, eyes half-closed in meditation. His breathing was calm, yet his mind was far from it.

He replayed every piece of intelligence he had gathered since leaving the miners on Planet 8632. Those poor souls had known nothing of the greater storm unraveling across the stars. To them, the only truth was fear—fear of the unknown, fear of the evacuation order, fear of being swept away in tides of war they could not comprehend.

Ironscar the raider had known slightly more, having traded rumors and stolen reports within the Neutral Zone. But even he, hardened by decades of lawless survival, had possessed only fragments of the truth.

It was only when Emery pieced together scraps from refugee fleets, and the words of Varrek and Shatter, that a grim picture emerged—one spanning the last twenty years he had been absent, trapped in Tartarus.

The central conflict with the elves was still raging, but beneath that war had risen something far darker. Shadows festering at the edge of memory now revealed themselves: the visitors from the Nether Realm—the resurgence of the Scourge.

Facilitated by the dark elves and the treacherous Oculus faction, these horrors had crossed into the Magus Realm.

The Alliance, stretched thin by its ceaseless war with the elves, had been too slow to respond. Its fleets were scattered, its commanders consumed by other battles. By the time their attention turned to the rising plague, it was already too late.

Within months, the Scourge had entrenched themselves. Whole star systems toppled, and in the heart of the Neutral Zone, an entire galaxy fell under their dominion. It became their home, their nest, their fortress.

And the pattern was the same.

Through the memories of Anzi, Emery had seen the same Scourge as one in Tartarus. He knew them not as soldiers, but as plague incarnate—an unstoppable hunger that devoured worlds.

The refugee fleets they encountered—shattered caravans limping through the void—were not isolated tragedies. They were echoes of a pattern repeating across the stars. Hundreds of fleets like them, scattered like leaves before a storm. Each one a testament to another world devoured.

Planets fallen. Civilizations crumbled. And still, the tide rose.

Emery exhaled slowly, the weight of revelation pressing heavily on his chest. His eyes opened, dark with thought, and his hand drifted to the jade medallion resting against his robes—the artifact left behind by his future self.

When Emery broke through the Second Cosmos, the medallion had stirred, its runes shifting, the second seal cracked open, releasing the next fragment of the message.

The words that spilled forth had been no comfort.

His future self spoke of decline—of the Magus Alliance unraveling, thread by thread. Two hundred years into the future, that other Emery had returned to find devastation. The Neutral Zone no longer existed. It had been consumed and the warfront had drawn perilously close to the Alpha Quadrant, closer to home.

Yet even with such dire revelations, the message offered little clarity. Only warnings.

Do not be distracted by the war. Focus on the matters at home.

The message was filled with information about Kronos, hinting at potential positive changes if the Earth faction succeeded in the duels. However, it also confirmed what Emery had long suspected—Kronos was merely a pawn, taking orders from an ominous organization.

This organization was deeply rooted within the councils of the Magus Alliance, operating with its own hidden agenda. Its members were embedded across multiple high-grade factions, which explained why uncovering the truth about what had happened to Earth two thousand years ago had been so difficult.

The name echoed in Emery’s thoughts like a curse:

”The Eternal Watchers.”

Emery understood that within an entity as vast as the Magus Alliance, such a secret society was almost inevitable. He cared little for their political ambitions or philosophies—so long as they did not harm his friends or his people. But they had.

Among their names, one stood out with cruel clarity: the Sky Lord.

The Grand Magus who had slain his beloved senior—Fuxi.

Emery’s hand clenched around the medallion until his knuckles went white. The message from his future self had been clear: now that Emery stood among the ranks of Grand Magus, the doors of the Alliance’s internal halls would open to him. He would have the authority to pry into secrets long hidden, to act as he deemed necessary.

The message ended with one final sentence, a line that struck Emery harder than all the rest:

”If you manage to escape in thirty years, go back to Earth as soon as possible—or you will regret it”

Those words echoed in his mind like a curse. They were the anchor that had driven him to claw his way out of the world beast’s belly, to tear himself free long before the thirty-year mark. And now, his heart beating with a single refrain: return to Earth, return before it’s too late.

Emery clenched his fists, grinding his teeth. ”What’s the point of writing this warning,” he muttered bitterly, ”if you refuse to tell me what exactly happened? Why leave me dangling in suspense?!” He muttered in irritation.

In his search for clarity, Emery had questioned Magus Minerva about Earth. She had shared what little she knew, recounting her brief encounter at the front lines with one of his dearest friend: Thrax, the immortal gladiator.

The news had been both comforting and troubling.

On the one hand, Emery’s lips had curved into a faint smile hearing Thrax was unchanged—still fighting, still roaring with unshakable defiance, as stubborn and indomitable as ever. But Minerva’s next words had soured that relief. She revealed something that she had heard from Thrax: despite Earth victory in the duel against Kronos, the Nephilim had taken over his home.

This news only deepened Emery’s anxiety. He wished he could teleport straight back to Earth, but Minerva urged caution. She advised him to first stop at one of the Magus Alliance outposts, report his status, and formally secure access into Alliance territory. Not only was Emery traveling aboard a Rider ship with a Rider crew—already suspicious enough—but the escalating war had led to heightened patrols and an influx of enemy spies infiltrating Alliance space.

Reluctantly, Emery had agreed. Which was why the Azure Kraken now coursed toward a border outpost of the Magus Alliance.

The ship tore across the void, time stretching thin as stars streaked into endless lines of light. Emery spent those days in restless meditation. Images of Earth, Klea and of unknown tragedies played endlessly in his mind.

On the ninth day, the warp drive finally disengaged with a shudder. The universe snapped back into clarity, stars steady in the dark once more. The Azure Kraken emerged at the coordinates of the Alliance border outpost.

But there was no outpost.

Empty space stretched out before them, littered with drifting debris. Shattered hull fragments floated like broken bones.

”Are we in the right destination?”