Earth's Greatest Magus

Chapter 2771: Escape

"Sir, you did it!!" Vic cheered from the back, still panting, barely having escaped death by his own stupidity.

"Not yet," Emery said sharply.

The headless female puppet collapsed with a metallic shriek, but from the mangled torso a screaming wisp of light burst free—Vashka’s soul, wild with terror.

Emery was ready. Spatial energy surged from his hand, twisting the air as he attempted to seize the fleeing spirit. But threads of spirit energy snapped outward from her translucent form, weaving a shimmering cocoon around herself—shielding her from his grasp and forming the core of an escape technique.

"No! You are not leaving!"

Emery’s Icarus Wings flared open, arcs of light cracking as he launched forward. But the two humanoid puppets leapt into his path as Vashka’s will surged through them.

The flame puppet swung blazing blades in a furious cross-slash. Steel and fire screeched against Emery’s dual swords, sparks exploding across the hall. At the same time, Vashka’s soul dove into her wind puppet, and a violent gust erupted—propelling the puppet backward toward the chamber’s entrance at breakneck speed.

With her true body destroyed, Vashka’s cultivation had plummeted. The flame puppet she controlled couldn’t withstand the strain—one clean strike from Emery’s dual blades split its torso and cracked its joints.

Even so, the damaged construct staggered forward, still forcing itself to block his path, ready to sacrifice its entire frame to slow him down.

"Livi!" Emery barked.

At once, Livi the Baphamot materialized from thin air, her scythe already in motion as she lunged past him to finish off the puppet.

Emery surged forward without slowing, eyes locked on the escaping soul.

By then, Vashka—riding inside the wind puppet—had already reached the hall’s entrance. Emery bent space itself to accelerate, pushing his speed to the edge of what his body could handle. His twin swords burned with ice and flame as he closed in—

—but this time the bear-like puppet barreled into him.

Recklessly tearing itself free from Daurgototh’s restraints, the construct’s lower body ripped apart entirely. With only its plated upper torso remaining, two massive paws swung toward Emery while its armored chest absorbed the impact of his strike.

BAMMM!!

The massive bear puppet crashed to the ground, half its body broken.

Emery’s eyes snapped up—

Vashka’s aura was fleeing again.

At the entrance, Athar hurled both chakrams, spinning arcs of golden energy meant to block her escape. But Vashka didn’t try to fly through.

Instead, she darted sideways—straight toward her lizard puppet.

The creature’s spike-lined back unfolded like a blooming iron flower. Its chest cavity opened, and Vashka’s soul within the wind puppet dove inside. Immediately the puppet reacted, chanting a spell through its hollow frame.

A fortress of spikes erupted around it—

a dome of jagged iron thorns that sealed Emery off as the puppet burrowed into the earth, drills of spiritual energy tearing through stone.

Within seconds, they vanished beneath the ground.

Silence settled again, broken only by the ticking of falling pebbles.

Emery exhaled sharply.

He extended his divine sense deep into the earth—stretching, chasing, probing. He caught the trail for a moment: a spiraling shaft, rapidly collapsing behind the lizard puppet.

Then—

Nothing.

Its burrowing speed was monstrous.

Its concealment abilities were even more terrifying.

Emery frowned, not in frustration—but in reluctant admiration. He had to admit—grudgingly—her preparations were thorough. Within seconds she had erased herself from his divine sense completely.

Athar’s voice broke through the silence, tight with urgency.

"Grand Magus Emery—are we not chasing after her?"

Emery paused, weighing the situation.

But he merely turned his gaze toward Annara. The pale skin woman folded her arms, a faint smirk on her blood crimson lips.

"I already attached my familiars to the puppet," she said. "I believe she’s heading toward the first group."

Athar paled. "This.... Lord Julius is in danger—"

Emery lifted a hand, calm and steady.

"Without her real body, and with only two puppets left, she’s no longer the same threat." His eyes narrowed slightly. "Besides... I’ve made preparations of my own."

He turned his attention to the battlefield’s remnants.

Livi had already shredded the flame-bending humanoid puppet. Meanwhile, Daurgototh finished tearing apart what remained of the bear puppet, and Chututlu had broken the last of the silver golems.

Only the winged tiger still fought—if it could be called that. Killgragah was having fun, his dragon claws tearing through the puppet’s weakening defenses. Unfortunately for the dragon, without its puppeteer feeding commands and energy, the beast’s strength seemed to melt by the breath.

Annoyed by the fading challenge, Killgragah snapped its spine with a roar and ripped the puppet apart in a storm of metal feathers and broken runes.

Emery grimaced.

He had hoped to keep at least some of the puppets intact for study, but Vashka had designed them to self-disintegrate upon defeat—a last spiteful precaution.

He moved toward the row of Randhall’s dormant golems next. About half remained intact; several others were damaged but repairable. And most importantly—the white one, the Artisan—still stood pristine on the altar.

That one mattered.

With enough effort—and VIA’s guidance—Emery was confident he could restore it to full function.

And the puppets weren’t their only reward.

Scattered across the battlefield were the fallen humanoid constructs’ tier-six artifacts. But the most valuable find lay near the shattered remains of Vashka’s puppet body—her abandoned corpse.

Her aperture pulsed faintly within it, untouched.

She had fled too fast to reclaim it.

Emery turned toward Athar, silently asking how these spoils were to be handled.

The man, still overwhelmed by the display of power he had witnessed, bowed slightly. "They are not part of Randhall’s treasures," Athar said. "You defeated her. The loot is entirely yours."

Emery nodded, though he couldn’t help reflecting. Fighting a high-stage Two-Cosmos opponent was no joke. If not for his Khaos Guardians suppressing her true strength, and the fact he had carefully concealed several of his own trump cards, the fight could have gone very differently. In truth, he had taken her by surprise. That was the only reason it looked effortless.

But the battle wasn’t the only reason they remained in this chamber.

Emery turned back toward the altar, jaw tightening. The second crystal tube embedded in the wall—still sealed—waited like an unanswered question. Vic, already hovering too close, reached a nervous hand toward the control cube.

"Do not touch anything," Emery warned sharply.

With caution, he signaled VIA to scan the sealed container.

The information she reported made Emery tense.

Randhall had created two final-model golems.

One was the Artisan.

The second was labeled "The Guardian."

A more advanced variant—designed purely for battle.

"Can you control it?" Emery asked.

VIA’s response was uncertain. She needed to physically analyze the construct’s condition first.

Emery stared at the sealed tube for a long moment, hesitation knotting inside him.

Finally, he made his decision.

"Open it."

The three Khaos Guardians moved into formation. The others stepped back. As the heavy door finally unsealed—

—they were all struck silent.

Because inside the second tube...

was no golem at all.

It was a corpse.

VIA immediately confirmed the identity.

It was Randhal’s the Machinist’s body.

Athar’s voice trembled. "Why is his corpse here? And... where is the second golem?"