Earth's Greatest Magus

Emery had learned about the existence of the four guardians bound to the Khaos Gate: Killgragah, the guardian of the Famine Gate; Chututlu, master of the Pestilence Gate; Tarrasque, the embodiment of the War Gate; and finally, Daurgototh, the Dracolich, keeper of the Death Gate.

Each of these guardians wielded unimaginable power, but Daurgototh stood out as the most feared. Known for its vile mastery over death and decay, its reputation for raising the dead to serve as eternal soldiers was infamous. And now, Emery was witnessing that horror firsthand.

The battlefield around him was a frozen wasteland. The dracolich loomed above, its hollow, glowing eyes staring down at him with a sinister intelligence. Two dozen undead magus, their twisted forms shrouded in frost and dark energy, charged toward him with relentless determination.

Before Emery could react, Rhyze, the Void Warden, panicked. Despite his current state as a powerful two-cosmos Grand Magus, his form was a mere shadow of its former self—a soul clinging to existence after Emery had destroyed his body.

“I can’t win this in my current state!” Rhyze shouted, desperation lining his face. “You hold them off! I’ll… find a way out!”

Emery sighed heavily. He wanted to argue but knew it was pointless. The undead magus were not only resilient but they lacked pain and fear. Emery met their charge head-on, tearing through their ranks with his overwhelming primal strength. Bone and flesh shattered under his blows, but for each that fell, another stepped forward, unyielding in their assault.

Emery’s gaze, however, remained locked on the true threat—the towering dracolich. The creature’s bone plates clattered as it unleashed a blast of frozen flames. Emery barely dodged the deadly breath, rolling away as the icy blast froze everything it touched. Entire streets were left coated in jagged frost, the air bitterly cold.

“Where is Tolaro?!” Emery growled, frustration mounting.

The dark elf Grand Magus was nowhere to be seen, and the battlefield was turning into a deadly game of survival.

While distracted, another wave of undead descended upon him. These were far more formidable than mere puppets, retaining some semblance of their abilities in life. Emery cursed under his breath as he ducked, dodged, and retaliated, every movement a fight for survival.

“Damn it, how can I get out of this situation?” he muttered, frustration mounting.

The battle became a blur of chaos. Emery narrowly avoided death multiple times, each moment testing the limits of his endurance. The dracolich’s chilling presence hung over the battlefield, its skeletal wings spread wide as it loomed like a specter of despair.

By the time Emery finally tore through the last of the undead magus, his muscles ached, and his breath came in ragged gasps. Yet, his brief moment of relief was shattered when he saw Tolaro reappear, smug as ever.

The dark elf hovered above the battlefield, holding a shimmering spatial cage. Within it, Rhyze’s soul form thrashed, desperately trying to break free.

“Let me go!” Rhyze pleaded, his voice a mixture of anger and despair. “I have no quarrel with you! I hate him as much as you do… Let me assist you… I’ll even serve you if that’s what you want!”

Tolaro’s sneer was cold and unforgiving. “I do not need a human slave.”

The words struck Rhyze like a physical blow. He let out a bitter laugh, his pride crumbling under the weight of his situation. “I am Rhyze, the Void Warden… Oh, what have I become?”

Desperation overtook him. In a final, defiant act, Rhyze burned what remained of his soul, channeling his energy into a powerful spatial spell. The air crackled with volatile energy as the cage around him began to destabilize.

“Let’s all die together!!” shouted Rhyze hysterically.

Tolaro’s confident expression faltered. He hastily reinforced the spatial containment, but it was too late. Rhyze’s sacrifice culminated in a devastating explosion.

KABBOOOOM!

The shockwave rocked the mirror world, tearing through the landscape and creating fractures in the spatial fabric. Cracks spread like spiderwebs, destabilizing the realm itself.

Emery stumbled as the ground beneath him trembled violently. Through his spirit reading, he sensed the fluctuations in the spatial cracks. He was ready to exploit them, to use them as an escape route, but the dracolich’s sudden charge forced him to abandon the idea.

Dodging the massive creature’s strike, Emery glanced upward to see Tolaro, unharmed and hovering smugly above the devastation.

A wave of despair began to creep into Emery’s heart. His physical strength alone wasn’t enough to defeat Tolaro, and his mastery over spatial spells was no match for the Grand Magus’s superior control. As if that weren’t enough, Tolaro also commanded the Khaos guardian, tipping the scales overwhelmingly in his favor.

That thought made Emery pause, his mind racing.

“Wait… how is he able to summon the guardian into a physical form?”

Emery muttered to himself, his mind racing with possibilities.

It wasn’t supposed to be possible for a guardian to exist in the physical realm. Even if Tolaro had managed to create a new body for the dracolich, he would have needed to break the Khaos chains that bound it.

As Emery thought about it, a realization struck him like a bolt of lightning.

The spatial cracks, the unstable energy coursing through the mirror world—it was all connected to the Khaos Gate.

Within this place, the flow of Khaos energy was not only more pronounced but also unrestrained. Emery could feel it resonating within him, stronger and more vibrant than he had ever experienced before.

“I see it now,” he said, a glimmer of determination returning to his eyes.

Tolaro smirked. “Oh? Have you finally understood the futility of your struggle?”

Ignoring the taunt, Emery focused inward. Just as he could summon his guardians within the Khaos hub, he realized he could do the same here. With a whispered command, he called out the name.

“Chututlu.”

The ground beneath Emery trembled violently, rippling as if alive. The air grew thick with an ominous energy, and the stench of decay filled the atmosphere. Dark, viscous tentacles emerged from the churning earth, their slimy, writhing forms coiling with an unsettling rhythm. The tendrils stretched higher, pulling forth a grotesque, swamp-like creature from the depths of the portal.

Chututlu, the guardian of the Pestilence Gate, loomed above the battlefield.

Tolaro’s smirk wavered for the first time. He took a step back, his confidence faltering. “So, you’ve figured it out,” he said, his voice strained as he attempted to reassert control. “Impressive. But its poison is useless against the undead.”

Emery’s sharp gaze locked onto his opponent. He took a step forward, undeterred by the dark elf’s bravado. With a calm yet resolute voice, he interrupted, “What about fire?”

Tolaro’s expression froze, his confident smirk replaced by a flicker of genuine shock. His eyes widened as the air around Emery rippled with a searing heat.

“Killgragah!”

A second portal burst open behind Emery, the fiery rift glowing with an intense, blinding light. From within, a colossal dragon emerged, its molten form radiating an oppressive heat that instantly began to warp the air. Flames danced along its massive, jagged body, and molten lava dripped from its claws, hissing as it struck the ground.

Tolaro’s shock deepened as he stumbled back, realization dawning upon him. “You… have two guardians?!!”