Earth's Greatest Magus

Chapter 2681: Abomination

Emery’s eyes widened in disbelief.

Vayarel was only supposed to block the dark elf’s escape with his spatial barrier from a distance. Instead, the Grand Magus had thrown himself directly into Talaro’s grasp, locking the dark elf in place with sheer will.

KABOOOM!

A tidal wave of cosmic flame erupted, swallowing everything in a storm of heat and sound. The blast was far greater than Emery had anticipated—an inferno so intense the very air shimmered and cracked. Even wrapped in the might of his primal form, he felt the heat biting into his skin, the pressure crushing against his chest. If it could sear him, then Vayarel and Talaro had surely been obliterated.

The flames raged for several long seconds before a single silhouette emerged—hovering, faint, and wavering.

Vayarel.

Relief flickered in Emery’s chest, but it was short-lived. The Grand Magus’s body was breaking apart—first the edges of his robe, then whole chunks of his form, crumbling into fine dust that the wind scattered into the burning sky. Only a translucent specter of his soul remained, glowing faintly as it drifted toward Emery.

Emery found no words. His jaw clenched, and his heart thudded painfully.

The spectral voice echoed directly into his mind.

Before Emery could process the words, a ripple of movement caught his eye. The undead—those that had been immobilized since the blast—were moving again. Not away from the fire, but into it. They hurled themselves into the flames willingly, like offerings to some unseen god.

But Emery’s divine sense told the truth—it was no mindless sacrifice. Inside the firestorm, ancient formation runes flared, linking the corpses together. Not just the one he fought before; there were dozens of them, most likely poured from the dark elf domain.

Flesh merged with bone, and bone with sinew, forming a single massive sphere of twisted, pulsating matter. At its core, barely clinging to life, was Talaro—half his body gone, his remaining form burned and broken. Yet his hands still worked, weaving the ritual.

Emery’s gut tightened. Talaro was using the corpses as vessels, stitching them together with dark magic to preserve himself.

As the last embers of the cosmic flame died away, the true horror emerged—a bloated, pulsating sphere of flesh. Dozens of corpses were woven into its surface, their faces frozen in agony. Power pulsed within it, slow but relentless, like the heartbeat of something ancient and monstrous.

”What an abomination!”

Emery’s primal form tensed, muscles coiling, ready to launch himself at the grotesque sphere of corpses.

But his eyes caught the faint, wavering glow of Vayarel’s soul. The once-mighty Grand Magus now hovered like a dying ember in the wind. Emery swiftly opens his spatial domain.

But Vayarel was not the only one. Behind him, Morgana staggered forward, sweat beading on her pale skin, her breathing shallow. Even her aura, the vast, searing presence of the cosmic flame, flickered weakly, like a dying candle. РÀɴȪ𝔟Ё§

Emery’s gaze sharpened, and Morgana instantly understood his intention.

”I can still fight... I...” Her voice broke into a fit of coughing, scarlet drops staining her hand.

Morgana hesitated before she nodded and followed Vayarel’s soul, stepping through and vanishing into the pocket realm.

As Morgana was already in the Grand Magus’s realm, she was restricted from roaming freely within his domain. Emery placed her to rest within his Khaos Hub instead, where the Famine gate once again glowed ominously as Killgragah emerged from its depths.

Emery turned his gaze back to the grotesque mass.

There was no more time to waste.

He unleashed a deafening roar, and his primal form charged straight at the lump of flesh. His claws ripped into it piece by piece, tearing away chunks of rotting meat and shattering brittle bones.

The sphere convulsed violently, and the pulsating mound came alive, its surface warping as thick, sinewy arms sprouted suddenly and shot toward him like spears.

Emery’s claws blurred in defensive arcs, swatting the limbs aside before they could pierce his hide. Chunks of flesh and shards of bone scattered through the air, only to merge again, reforming.

Then, to Emery’s surprise, the writhing limbs began coiling around him, tangling tightly around his form.

Frustration boiled over, and instinct took control, activating the beast’s innate killer move. Its jaws opened wide, primal energy spiraling between his teeth, compressing into a whirling singularity of black light. With a deafening roar, he unleashed it—a beam of annihilation that blasted clean through the sphere.

The air screamed. A hole gaped in the abomination, cracks spidering outward.

And then—movement.

From the ruptured flesh emerged something new.

It stepped free like a butterfly breaking from its cocoon—though there was nothing beautiful about it. The figure was humanoid; there was some resemblance to the celestial undead, but there was no trace of light or life energy—only cold, oppressive dread. Its body was stitched from muscle and bone, and its face—skeletal, half-rotted—still bore Talaro’s cruel grin. His eye sockets blazed with ghostly blue fire.

”Kekekeke...” the creature rasped, ”my final form is complete.”

Emery’s lip curled. He gathered Khaos in his claws until they glowed like twin black suns, then lunged.

The undead creature met him head-on, his skeletal arms covered in crystallized flesh intercepting the strike. The impact boomed like a war drum, driving the figure back. But even as he gave ground, his free hand wove necrotic sigils in the air.

From the shadow, a grotesque mass of corpses obeyed his summons, swarming Emery like a living ocean.

HOOOOWWWLLL!

The primal beast roared, thrashing and tearing, but the tide kept coming, all latching on, wrapping around him, pulling him down.

Talaro rose above the carnage, his new form hovering effortlessly, his skeletal jaw opening in a chilling laugh.

”This is the power... of the Lich King!”