Earth's Greatest Magus

Chapter 2760: Mechanist Tomb

Julian’s voice cut through the rising tension.

"Grand Magus Dravic, what is the meaning of this?"

The Volkov faction leader didn’t even flinch, he spoke with casual assurance.

"It can’t be helped. Lady Vashka is a master Artificer — she will be invaluable in exploring this ruin. I’m sure increasing our safety is more important than one slight change to our agreement."

His tone was almost dismissive, as if the matter were already decided.

Emery watched closely. Beside Julian, Athar’s jaw tensed, and a faint flicker of irritation crossed his face. The quiet hum of VIA in Emery’s ear soon followed, transmitting hidden data on the pale woman.

She wasn’t just any Two-Cosmos magus—she had reached that realm centuries ago, and by now, she could well have attained the mid or even peak stage. Her reputation was infamous: the woman who had once annihilated an entire civilization in the name of an experiment.

No wonder Julian and Athar looked unsettled. This wasn’t a simple addition; it was like inviting a storm into their ranks.

Dravic folded his arms. "We definitely need her to join!" he said firmly, his tone leaving no room for debate.

Julian exhaled through his nose, clearly weighing his next words. He turned, consulting his allies. "Perhaps we should adjust the lineup," he murmured, eyes flicking toward Marius; thinking of replacing Poseidon or Athar.

But the elder merely shook his head. "No... it will be safer if I stay here, guarding your escape. You... young people should gain more experience in this kind of situation."

His voice carried both calm advice and quiet warning. But when his eyes met Emery’s, there was something else — a faint, knowing smile. Emery realized then that Marius might have sensed the realm he conceal.

Julian sighed, conceding. "Alright, but your share will remain the same."

Dravic glanced toward the pale woman beside him. "Yes — but we take first choice in any blueprint findings."

Julian hesitated, then nodded. "Alright. Agreed."

The matter was settled, but Emery understood what really happened beneath the politeness. In joint expeditions, the stronger faction always took the lion’s share. With Volkov’s pair of Two-Cosmos Grand Magus, they could have demanded sixty percent. Yet, they’d kept the split even — in exchange for first rights to blueprints.

Blueprints were priceless to a weapon manufacture faction like Volkov. On the other hand, a developing faction like Nova Roma preferred more valuable artifacts — relics they could use directly to strengthen their magus and expand their influence.

Preparations followed swiftly. The combined expedition moved toward the rocky mountain where the Celestial Machinist’s Tomb was said to lie. The Volkov contingent was large — twenty-five Magus and five Grand Magus, several clearly specialists in artificing and formations.

Julian’s Nova Roma team was smaller, just fifteen strong: Annara, Vic, Athena, Hephaestus, and six other elite Magus. Fewer in number, but none questioned the balance. One Grand Magus could easily outmatch dozens of lesser Magus and more bodies only meant more casualties. Emery, for his part, was just relieved that Titus wasn’t chosen to join.

The group arrived at the foot of the mountain, entering a hidden cave that opened into a vast chamber. At its center stood a massive gate surrounded by several statues—though most were now shattered, remnants of their first attempt to enter the tomb.

Emery examined the broken pieces scattered across the stone floor. The remains were consistent with the briefing: formidable mechanical golems, constructs designed to guard the tomb.

Athar stepped forward and unfurled his half of the parchment, while Dravic produced the other. The two pieces were not merely maps that led them here but also the keys that would open the tomb. When brought together, the parchments glowed with ancient power, the runes etched on them responding to the gate. A pulse of resonance filled the chamber as the inscriptions along the stone surface flared to life. Then, with a deep rumble, the massive gates slowly parted.

Throughout the process, Vic was visibly thrilled. His eyes gleamed as he scribbled notes, trying to capture every rune and mechanism he could see.

As they stepped through, Emery immediately sensed something off. The air shifted unnaturally around them—it took him a moment to realize why the tomb had remained undetectable, even from the ships above. The entire structure existed within a contained formation, an independent spatial layer sealed away from the outside world.

They continued forward, passing more broken statues. The signs of battle grew clearer with every step: gouged walls, melted runes, and cracked metal limbs scattered across the path. From what remained, Emery could tell the previous expedition had been met with brutal resistance.

"There were five advanced golems here," Julian explained quietly. "Each one operated at a Grand Magus level."

Emery nodded, understanding now why multiple grand magus team had struggled.

But the reason for their return wasn’t to fight the golems again—it was the second gate deeper within. This one, required the blood of Randhal machinists to open. Only their descendants could access it. Yet, with the Randhal faction wiped out over a millennium ago, finding such bloodlines was all but impossible.

Their only hope lay in alternatives: a formation expert or a spatial magus who could unravel the locking mechanism. That was why Emery had been invited in the first place.

Each faction had come well-prepared. Within the Nova Roma group were two magus-level formation masters; however, among the Volkov contingent stood an elderly Grand Magus-level formation master, who stepped forward wearing a proud grin.

"My crew can handle this easily," he said, producing a compass-shaped artifact that shimmered with embedded runes.

Three magus assistants quickly took their positions, inscribing formation symbols across the ground and channeling their power into the gate. Streams of light flowed from their palms, weaving intricate runic patterns that pulsed in rhythm with the artifact’s glow.

Emery was quietly relieved he didn’t have to step in—or reveal anything about his own abilities. Instead, he found a quiet corner and took a seat, content to observe.

It took the formation master only a few minutes to dismantle the first protective layer, and nearly an hour to breach the second. Throughout the process, Vic was utterly fascinated—jotting down notes and muttering to himself about the precision of the runes. "This language... it’s Naecint—the old machinists’ script. They used it to bind mechanical cores directly into spatial seals"

His enthusiasm, however, was largely ignored by the others. After all, there was a vast difference between understanding something and actually being able to do something about it.

Another hour crawled by. The formation master’s initial arrogance began to fade, replaced by sweat and tension. Just as Julian was about to call Emery to assist, the old man suddenly burst into laughter.

"Hah! I did it!"

The Volkov leader, Dravic, smiled proudly, clearly pleased that his men had succeeded.

A sharp cracking sound echoed from within the gate. The runes flickered erratically. Then came the tremor—the ground itself began to quake as ancient mechanisms stirred.

The triumphant smiles vanished. From the darkness beyond the gate, a chorus of metallic grinding and clattering erupted—then, one by one, mechanical golems emerged, dozens of them at least, their eyes glowing faintly as they moved with cold precision.

Julian shouted, rallying the others, "Fight!!"