Earth's Greatest Magus

There were five seats prepared on the ship, and the tension in the room was palpable as the commander began to brief the group on the names that were already selected for this mission.

The first seat was allocated to Master Borin, who has knowledge of the ship’s mechanics. His expertise was vital to ensure all systems and functions were operational during their escape.

Next to Master Borin’s seat was one prepared for Emery, replacing Master Flemming he will be the healer of the group and the one in charge of delivering the Spirit Soul.

The third seat had been reserved for Atlas, the half-machine Magus computerized calculation made him the perfect candidate to pilot the ship, navigating the perilous path to safety.

The remaining two seats were to be filled by two full moon Magus as guards. The choice lay among the eight captains present in the room, all esteemed warriors who had proved their mettle in battle. They were gathered there to choose the last two seats, a decision that weighed heavily on them all.

Before anyone could voice their opinion, the sound of Atlas’s voice interrupted the silence.

“Commander, I have decided not to join. Please choose someone else.”

The room was filled with stunned silence as everyone digested Atlas’s unexpected declaration. Even Master Borin, who had recommended Atlas, was caught off guard. The half-machine Magus offered no explanation, no reasoning, just a firm and resolute decision. Without another word, he turned and left the room, his metal footsteps echoing down the hall.

Emery, knowing what Atlas’s true reason was, could only silently heave a sigh. A mix of understanding and sadness filled him, but he said nothing.

“It’s alright,” said the commander, his voice steady and reassuring, breaking the silence that had enveloped the room. “We have an alternative choice for a pilot.” He went on to mention a certain space knight named Renvil, one of the Imperium’s most highly decorated pilots. His experience and skill were well-known, and there was a collective nod of agreement.

With the third seat settled, the discussion returned to the matter at hand: the two full moon Magus who would join the mission as guards.

Emery’s mind raced with anticipation, expecting a fervent debate, perhaps even a fierce battle of words among the captains. 

Yet, what unfolded was an entirely different scenario. The four captains tasked with defending the walls understood their responsibility, their faces etched with resolve as they individually and decisively rejected the position. Their duty was clear; they were the bastion against the onslaught, and their place was at the Citadel’s walls.

Commander Shepherd’s voice rang with the same commitment as he, too, rejected the seat. “We are not giving up on the Citadel,” he said, his words filled with conviction, leaving no room for doubt or argument.

The room’s focus then turned to Kenzo and Blane, the shadow Magus and duel specialist, respectively. Both were well-suited for the mission. However, Blane has no plan to leave Magus Cas hence he made his intention to stay clear. 

This left the choice to an elderly Magus, Yarik, who was currently weakened after casting an arduous spell. 

The idea of bringing an earth element specialist into space was met with hesitation and doubts from some. Commander Shepard, however, quashed the uncertainty with the authority of his voice. He argued that the battle might not necessarily be space.

Respect for the elderly Magus and trust in Commander Shepard’s judgment ultimately swayed the room. The decision was made, and the five members were finally chosen: Master Borin, space knight Renvil, Magus Kenzo, Magus Yarik, and Emery.

“Be here, 30 minutes before the allocated time,” Commander Shepard’s voice cut through the room, bringing the meeting to a close. 

ραndαsnοvεl.cοm As the group dispersed, the weight of their decisions and the reality of the impending battle settled in their minds. The choices had been made, and now it was time to prepare for what lay ahead.

As the meeting concluded, the sound of hurried footsteps filled the chamber as everyone rushed back to their posts, urgency etched on their faces. Emery’s path, however, led in a different direction. He had a mind filled with questions and one being in particular who could answer them: Atlas.

He found the half-machine Magus standing on top of the citadel, an imposing silhouette against the crimson horizon. His mechanical eyes scanned the sprawling plains beyond, where the sea of orcs gathered like a living storm. Emery’s heart weighed heavy as he observed the sight, and he couldn’t help but sigh at the overwhelming odds.

“More orcs came to gather; there are 205,222 of them now,” Atlas stated, his voice cold and calculated. “But I believe they won’t be attacking anytime soon.”

“I didn’t come for that,” Emery answered, his voice tinged with an emotion he couldn’t quite name.

Atlas turned, his mechanical features betraying no emotion, yet his eyes fixed on Emery with a knowing gaze. “You want to ask me why I chose to stay?” he asked.

“I know you stay to seek for Eeshoo. I just don’t know why you care so much,” Emery replied, his words echoing the confusion and concern he felt.

Atlas’s silence stretched for what seemed like an eternity. Emery could almost hear the gears turning in his mechanical mind before he finally broke the silence. “Did the Nephilim threaten you with something? Tell me, and I will find a way to help you.”

Atlas shook his head “No… that’s not it.” He paused, lost in deep thought before finally speaking, “Eeshoo is a friend.” He looked at Emery, his mechanical eyes somehow conveying an intensity that took Emery aback. “I thought humans would do anything for a friend… I know you did.”

The answer surprised Emery, not for the sentiment itself but for the choice of words. “Human? Don’t you think of yourself as a human, Atlas?”

Atlas’s silence returned, a pained expression crossing his mechanical face. “I… I don’t…” He paused, his voice softer, more vulnerable than before. “The Nephilim did promise to return me to my human form and let me come home.” He gazed upon the horizon, the setting sun casting an orange glow on his metal exterior. “I guess I am doing all of this to feel human again.”

The words resonated with Emery, striking a chord deep within. Before he could fully absorb what Atlas had said, the ground shook violently beneath them. The lava surrounding the citadel started to stir, its molten surface roiling and churning.

The Drought had started and the orcs’ army began to move.