Earth's Greatest Magus

Chapter 2779: Legacy 5

”Is Sir Emery alright?” Vic asked, worry tightening his voice.

”What are you doing, kid? Focus!” Annara snapped, flames dancing at her fingertips.

Minutes had passed since their brutal clash with the guardian golem—minutes in which Emery and Dravic had remained locked in a silent soul duel, suspended like statues. The battlefield held its breath.

”Watch out!!” Livi cried.

The guardian golem broke through VIA’s controlled artisan construct with a sudden burst of power and barreled straight for Vic. The Baphomet guardian tried to intercept but was instantly overwhelmed. At the very last moment, Emery’s dark avatar blurred into view, intercepting the blow and dragging Vic out of the kill zone.

”It’s learning!” Annara shouted over the clash, frustration clear. ”Not only are you the weakest link, that formation talisman of yours is dealing real damage—it’s adapting to you!”

Despite VIA’s rapid processing, the guardian’s adaptability was monstrous. It was designed to evolve mid-battle. Its internal cores hummed with combat logic, rewriting strategies on the fly, recalculating every threat in the room.

Realizing that defending wouldn’t be enough, Annara raised both hands and unleashed a spell.

[Summon Familiars]

Dark-purple flames erupted from her palms, expanding into a storm of fluttering shadows. They condensed into thousands of burning bats, swarming through the area like a living cloak of embers. They dove at the guardian, blocking its path, clouding its sensors, forcing constant recalibration.

On the other side of the hall, Julian and the Nova Roma group were locked in an escalating war of attrition. Even with Casiel and Guskov back on their feet, the situation had only grown worse. The number of enemy golems kept rising—every time they smashed one apart, two more marched in through the shattered archways. And now, five additional advanced silver golems had joined the fray, their movements sharper, their calculations faster, their blows heavy enough to crater stone.

Minutes dragged on like grinding hours. Sweat-streaked magus fought shoulder to shoulder as the pressure mounted. Two Nova Roma magus had already been pulled out of the line, too injured to continue. Nearly half of their dark worker golems lay in pieces across the floor, sparking and twitching. Their defensive formation—once tight and disciplined—had begun to fray.

Julian could feel it in the air, the slow tilt toward disaster. The hall trembled under each metallic impact. The golems pressed forward, step by step, carving into their defenses with mechanical precision.

Then—

A sudden uproar erupted from the rear lines.

Shouts. The crack of heated metal. A barrage of mana-infused bullets.

Julian spun sharply.

A new force surged into the hall—Voskov firing squads, uniform and unwavering, led by a towering metal construct that roared as it tore through a bronze golem with a single charge. It was Hephaestus in his Titan suit, his commands echoing with metallic resonance as he opened a path for the reinforcements behind him.

And then came the largest surprise.

An elderly grand magus, his robes torn yet regal, stepped into view. Marius of Nova Roma—Julian’s last-resort reinforcements—had arrived, flanked by several elite Nova Roma magus whose auras flared like rising suns.

They entered the fray without hesitation.

The arrival of a veteran two-cosmos Grand Magus created an immediate impact on the battle.

In the span of minutes, the tide shifted.

Two silver golems fell under a coordinated triple-cast barrage.

A dozen bronze golems were crushed, frozen, or blasted apart in rapid succession.

The enemy’s advance slowed—then halted.

The hall grew noticeably quieter as the spawning of new golems tapered off. For the first time since the battle began, it felt like breathing was possible.

Hope flickered.

The Nova Roma forces rallied with newfound strength. Confidence spread like wildfire across the ranks—victory felt close enough to touch.

Julian exhaled a long, controlled breath. The relief on his face almost turned into a smile. For the first time, he could spare a thought beyond mere survival.

He even began to consider sending someone to reinforce Emery’s group.

However, just when victory seemed almost within reach, a piercing metallic chime rang through the entire hall. The sound vibrated through stone and metal alike, followed by an emotionless mechanical voice.

[Warning. Vault integrity compromised. Self-destruct sequence initiated.]

[Countdown: Five minutes.]

Every face in the hall shifted instantly—from hope to paralyzing dread.

”Five minutes?!” Julian’s expression drained to pure panic. Even at full speed, they wouldn’t make it halfway out of the tomb.

He shot upward immediately, flying straight toward Emery’s dark avatar. ”Tell me you can stop this!”

The avatar’s hollow voice answered without hesitation.

”Nope... I am only an avatar. I don’t have the power to take everyone out.”

[Four minutes.]

Julian felt his stomach drop. He desperately whirled toward the only other person who might understand the tomb’s systems.

”Vic! Can you do something? A shutdown command? A bypass? Anything!!!”

The young magus was equally pale. ”I—I don’t know! I’m trying!” His gaze darted wildly across the hall, searching for hidden panels, conduits, anything. His turtle-carapace artifact spun faster and faster as he ran frantic calculations.

[Three minutes.]

Vic clenched his teeth. ”No... Even if I find an entry, we won’t have enough time.”

Julian grabbed his shoulders. ”TRY! You’re the only one who can stop this!”

”Me...? No, I... I—”

[Two minutes.]

Sweat streamed down Vic’s face. The hall was in chaos—golems frozen mid-motion, exhausted magus catching breath, debris everywhere—yet all eyes silently placed their hopes on him.

[One minute.]

Vic collapsed to his knees. ”I can’t!! I’m sorry... I can’t!”

Across the hall, panic spread like wildfire. Guskov barked orders and began pulling the Voskov firing squads back. Several Nova Roma magus followed, fleeing toward the exit corridors. Those who stayed behind raised defensive artifacts, trying to prepare for the worst.

Then the mechanical voice returned—slow, merciless.

[Ten... nine... eight...]

A suffocating despair fell over the hall. No one spoke. No one moved. There was simply nothing left they could do.

[Six... five... four...]

And then—

Silence.

The countdown cut out mid-number. Every sound in the vault died at once.

All around them, the hundreds of guardian golems froze—total stillness, as if someone had severed the link controlling them.

”What... what is happening?” someone whispered.

All looked in stunned confusion.

Only one battle remained active: the unmoving clash between Emery and the possessed Dravic, still locked in their soul struggle.

Slowly, realization stirred among the fighters.

”Is it him...?” someone murmured.

Vic let out a trembling exhale of relief. ”Thank... the stars...”

But before he could say another word, Emery’s dark avatar descended in front of him. Its expressionless face leaned close.

”It’s not over yet.”

Vic blinked. ”W-what? What does that mean?”

The avatar’s gaze sharpened, unusually intent.

”He needs you.”

”He...? Who—?”

There was no time for an answer.

The avatar placed a hand firmly on Vic’s shoulder.

A cold shock shot through him—then his vision tore away from reality. His body fell limp as his soul was forcibly pulled out, dragged toward the suspended battlefield where Emery and Dravic’s spirits clashed.

And the frozen tomb waited in silence for what would happen next.