Earth's Greatest Magus

Chapter 2916: Swamp Battle 7

As Emery had anticipated, the Chimera Sovereign still had a trump card waiting.

A faint, chilling smile spread across the elder’s face as he slowly raised both arms. His fingers curled slightly, as if grasping something invisible, before he spoke in a calm yet commanding tone.

"Come... to your master."

At once, three streams of pale light rose from the battlefield.

They drifted upward from the shattered remains of Maldrin, Skylark, and Madam Butcher, coalescing into translucent figures that hovered in the air.

Their spirit souls had been summoned—but something about them was deeply unnatural. Their expressions were blank, devoid of awareness, and across their spectral forms, intricate runic markings pulsed faintly, binding them in place like lifeless puppets.

Emery frowned slightly, his gaze sharpening.

"What is he planning...?"

Before he could act, a shadow rushed toward the elder.

The Phantom Blade.

The bald man staggered forward, abandoning all composure as panic overtook him. He dropped to one knee before the Chimera Sovereign, his voice trembling with desperation.

"Master... please... give them another chance!"

The elder did not even look at him.

"Hmph..."

The sound was cold, dismissive, devoid of any emotion.

"I have nurtured you all for hundreds of years," he said calmly, as though discussing something trivial. "It is time for you to repay your master."

His hands moved.

Seals formed rapidly.

The reaction was immediate.

The three suspended souls convulsed violently, their expressions twisting as if they were being burned alive. Their mouths opened in silent screams, their forms distorting under the influence of the runes as their once-human shapes began to break apart.

"No... don’t!!" the Phantom Blade shouted, his voice cracking.

The elder finally moved—

But not in mercy.

With a casual kick, he sent the man crashing across the swamp, his body tumbling helplessly through the mud.

Emery watched the unfolding scene with sharp focus, weighing his options carefully. The situation was escalating rapidly, and although his instincts urged him to intervene immediately, his senior Fjolnir’s condition took priority. The earlier invocation of his ancestral power had clearly pushed his body beyond its limits, and the backlash was severe enough that even standing seemed to strain him.

Without hesitation, Emery moved to his side. Morgana follows, positioning herself between them and the battlefield, ready to intercept any incoming threat.

After checking his senior condition, Emery retrieved a recovery pill and pressed it into Fjolnir’s hand.

"Senior, stay back and stabilize your condition"

Fjolnir did not argue. He nodded, his breathing heavy as he retreated away.

Only then did Emery turn back.

What he saw made his expression tighten.

The three suspended souls had begun to transform.

Maldrin’s spirit twisted first, its shape expanding unnaturally as it morphed into a demonic silhouette, its features distorting into something savage and unstable. Skylark’s soul followed, his once-human form stretching and warping into a grotesque, lizard-like entity, its outline flickering with venomous energy.

Only Madam Butcher’s spirit remained mostly unchanged, yet even she writhed in visible agony, her form flickering as if caught between transformation and destruction.

The Chimera Sovereign’s expression shifted as he observed the result.

The elder’s expression shifted.

For the first time—

There was visible irritation.

Then—

Rage.

He turned his gaze toward Emery and Morgana, his voice sharp and filled with fury.

"Where is my Three-Flame Bird?!"

The question came unexpectedly.

Emery glanced toward Morgana, who remained completely composed.

"The spirit beast inside that woman?" she replied flatly. "I killed it."

For a heartbeat—

Silence.

Then the elder’s expression twisted violently.

"URGHHH!! You will pay for this!!"

Rage surged from him as he began chanting again, his body reacting in a far more grotesque manner this time.

His stomach split open.

But instead of organs, rows of jagged, uneven teeth filled the opening, forming a massive, horrifying mouth that stretched across his torso. The flesh around it twitched unnaturally, as if the thing were alive and hungry.

"No!!"

The Phantom Blade, wounded but unwilling to yield, charged forward once more, blades forming in both hands as he launched himself toward the elder in desperation.

But he never reached him.

CLANK!!

The crystalline insect limbs intercepted him instantly, crossing together to block his path with absolute precision. Sparks flew as his blades struck the hardened surface, but the defense did not budge.

Still, he pressed on.

Strike after strike fell in rapid succession, fueled by desperation and fury, yet none were able to break through.

"Huh... you dare oppose your master now?" the Chimera Sovereign sneered, his voice dripping with contempt. "What an ungrateful bastard."

His gaze turned cold as his killing intent surged once more.

With a violent swing of his arm, the python limb lunged forward, its massive jaws snapping shut as it collided with the Phantom Blade.

The impact shattered the man’s shadow blades instantly, the fragments dispersing like smoke before the serpent’s fangs tore through his defenses. Flesh split as his arm and leg were ripped apart, and before he could recover, another python surged upward, its jaws clamping toward his neck.

"ARGHHH!!"

The scream echoed across the swamp.

Yet just as the fangs were about to crush his throat—

A flash of jade light cut through the air.

Emery’s flying swords arrived in a blur, slicing across the python limbs with sharp precision, forcing them to recoil. At the same time, thick twilight vines erupted from the ground, wrapping tightly around the wounded man and dragging him away from the lethal strike. Morgana followed instantly, her hands igniting as she unleashed a barrage of fireballs, forcing the serpents back under the relentless pressure of her cosmic flames.

Emery’s gaze hardened slightly.

At first, he had intended to let them turn on each other, allowing both sides to weaken themselves—but the imbalance was too great.

"Don’t let him devour them... NO!"

The Phantom Blade’s desperate warning came too late.

Emery’s eyes widened slightly as the monstrous mouth on the elder’s stomach suddenly opened wide, a grotesque tongue shot outward, snatching all three suspended souls in a single motion before dragging them back into the abyss of that living maw.

They vanished instantly.

At once, the runes across the elder’s body ignited, glowing violently as new patterns lit up across his skin, his aura surging with explosive intensity.

Sensing the imminent danger, Emery did not hesitate. With a quick glance, he signaled Morgana, and both moved in perfect coordination.

All sixty-four flying swords shot forward at once, forming a relentless storm of blades, while Morgana unleashed a barrage of blazing projectiles, her flames streaking through the air like falling stars.

The attacks collided with devastating force.

Explosions erupted one after another, the battlefield engulfed in fire and steel as the assault continued without pause, wave after wave crashing into the same point for nearly a full minute.

Then—

From within the chaos—

A massive shadow leapt free.

It landed heavily beyond the smoke.

Emery’s eyes narrowed as the dust began to settle, revealing the figure that stood within.

What had once been a frail, deformed elder was gone.

In its place stood a towering, muscular monstrosity—a crimson demonic being bearing the form of Maldrin, yet far more grotesque. Python arms writhed from its sides, six spider-like limbs extended from its back, crimson fur covered its legs, and the massive mouth on its stomach twitched hungrily.

A complete abomination.

Deep slash wounds and burn marks covered its body—

Yet before Emery’s eyes, they began to close.

Flesh regenerated.

Rapidly.

As if the damage had never existed.

A low, terrifying chuckle echoed from the creature as its aura surged once more, growing heavier, more oppressive with every passing second.

"Now... You all... can die."