Earth's Greatest Magus

Chapter 3016: Final wave

Five Grand Magus stood beside him—Veyarel and Boyd’s four remaining lieutenants—but Emery had no intention of underestimating the sixth bolt.

The moment the heavens stirred, he unleashed his half-primal transformation. Obsidian fur rippled across his body, muscles swelling beneath his darkened skin as his aura surged explosively. The massive Gravestone Ruler materialized in his grasp, its tremendous weight pressing cracks into the arena beneath his feet.

Then the lightning descended.

Emery roared and swung upward with everything he possessed.

[Star-Rending Cleave]

One strike.

A second.

Then a third, each slash carving brilliant arcs through the descending pillar.

At the same time, Veyarel and Boyd’s four lieutenants unleashed their strongest techniques. Layers of translucent spatial barriers blossomed before the descending lightning, each one redirecting and dispersing a fraction of its overwhelming force before collapsing into fragments of distorted space.

For a fleeting instant, it seemed enough.

Then the remaining lightning tore straight through.

The diminished bolt still slammed into the defenders with terrifying violence. Countless chains of violet lightning exploded across Emery’s body, forcing every muscle into violent convulsions.

He was hurled backward, crashing through the arena floor as stone erupted beneath him, his body carving a deep trench across the shattered platform.

The others fared even worse.

Two of Boyd’s lieutenants collapsed instantly, unconscious before they even struck the ground. A third was sent tumbling through the air, his armor split apart by the impact, while the last barely remained standing, blood pouring from every opening in his body.

It was horrifying.

Truly horrifying.

The seventh bolt descended before Emery had fully recovered.

Residual lightning still ravaged his meridians, leaving his limbs numb and unresponsive.

Without hesitation, Xavier and Schenable stepped forward together.

Their domains erupted simultaneously, two towering cosmic projections manifesting behind them as they combined every ounce of their cultivation to intercept the descending strike.

BAAAMM!

The explosion that followed shook the entire mountain.

Even together, they barely survived.

Then the heavens prepared the eighth.

At all four corners of the arena, the remaining Karat elders activated the Divine Instrument one final time.

Golden pillars erupted skyward as countless runes spread across the mountain like glowing veins. Every formation buried beneath the arena awakened together, channeling unimaginable quantities of cosmic energy into the ancient construct.

The Divine Instrument groaned.

Its metallic frame trembled violently.

Golden cracks spread across its surface as it was forced beyond every limit its creators had ever intended.

Emery finally climbed back to his feet.

Ignoring the pain still burning through his body, he stepped beside Veyarel once more.

The eighth bolt struck.

This time the formations intercepted nearly half of the heavenly lightning before it reached them. The remaining force still descended with overwhelming fury, but compared to the previous strike, it felt almost survivable.

Almost.

The impact still blasted Emery backward, violent currents racing through every meridian in his body, scorching flesh and spirit alike. Even Veyarel’s spatial barriers shattered one after another before the attack finally dispersed.

Neither man escaped uninjured.

Then...

The heavens fell silent.

Only for a heartbeat.

The ninth bolt gathered.

The final strike of the eighth set.

Xavier and Schenable stood shoulder to shoulder, blood covering both men as they summoned the last of their strength. Two colossal cosmic projections rose behind them, their immense figures stretching toward the heavens.

Beside them stood Emery.

Veyarel.

And four surviving Grand Magus.

Eight cultivators.

One bolt.

When it descended...

...the entire arena disappeared beneath violet light.

BAAAMMM!!

The collision ripped the mountain apart.

The arena floor shattered into countless fragments as shockwaves blasted outward in every direction. The reinforced walls surrounding the tribulation ground exploded apart, while the protective formations engraved into the mountain burst one after another, their runes detonating in brilliant showers of golden sparks.

The Divine Instrument reached its limit.

A deafening metallic scream echoed throughout the mountain.

Then enormous cracks split across its ancient frame.

One by one, every formation connected to it went dark.

The golden lattice covering the mountain collapsed.

The towering pillars of light blinked out.

With one final thunderous explosion, the Divine Instrument split apart, its countless fragments scattering across the ruined arena.

When the light finally faded, Emery found himself on one knee, blood dripping steadily onto the broken stone. Veyarel knelt beside him, breathing heavily, while the two Karat elders lay several dozen meters away, their bodies smoking, barely conscious.

But they had survived.

The eighth set was over.

Above them, the violet heavens churned once more.

The ninth...

...had arrived.

Rosin Karat stood alone.

No one could help him now—not if he truly wished to succeed.

Every artifact had been exhausted. Every layered defense had been stripped away. The Divine Instrument lay silent, its purpose fulfilled. At the center of the shattered arena stood the patriarch of the Karat Faction with nothing left but his own body, ten thousand years of cultivation condensed into flesh that had already been pushed far beyond its limits.

Then the power of a Supreme erupted from within him.

Golden brilliance engulfed his body, and intricate runes of prismatic light spread across his skin like living tattoos, shifting endlessly with profound metallic law.

Izzak the Unbreakable trembled where he stood.

"That’s... the eighth layer... the Prism Gold Form." His voice was hoarse with awe. "The Patriarch has succeeded."

Emery had once witnessed the sixth layer of the Golden Body Art, wielded by Xavier and Hassa during the Karat civil war—a realm attainable by Three Cosmos cultivators.

The eighth layer was something else entirely.

It was a manifestation reserved for Supremes alone.

Above them, the final set of tribulation bolts began to take shape.

This time, they no longer resembled lightning.

Each bolt condensed into a colossal hammer forged from pure metallic law, descending not to pierce, but to crush everything beneath it.

The first hammer fell.

The impact shook the entire mountain, and even standing at the perimeter, Emery felt his own defensive barriers scream beneath the residual shockwave.

BAAMM!!

The second descended.

Then the third.

Rosin simply endured.

His Prism Gold Form cracked apart beneath each strike, only to reform moments later, devouring fragments of the tribulation’s metallic law even as the heavens tore him apart. Golden blood streamed from countless wounds, yet the old patriarch remained standing, his spine perfectly straight.

The fourth hammer descended.

Every eye in the arena was captivated. Emotions burst free — gasps, prayers, whispered names.

The fifth.

The Supreme gritted his teeth, and the prismatic gold form began to crack.

The sixth.

The seventh finally broke it — the famous invincible Golden Body shattering apart at last, the legend of the Karat faction undone before the heavens.

The eighth came.

And the patriarch stood defenseless, his body broken, nothing left to raise against it.

"Grandfather!" Tessa screamed from behind the glass.

Emery’s mind raced. He found himself wondering if anyone meant to intervene — his own instincts screaming to save the old man, thinking a failed tribulation had to be better than a lost life.

Veyarel caught his arm, his expression storming with grief and restraint.

"No," he muttered. "The patriarch is at the end of his lifeforce. This is his only chance."

As the eighth bolt bore down, Rosin swallowed a crimson pill. Even from a distance, Emery could guess what it was — a high-grade Tier 8 pill that would surge one’s power to its peak, at the cost of a brutal backlash to follow.

Power flooded through him. With a roar, the patriarch summoned the Prism Gold Form once more, its shattered brilliance blazing back to life.

"COME!!!" he bellowed, his giant projection surging up to meet the descending bolt.

BAMMM!

He held.

This far.

One left.

The ninth bolt of the ninth set.

His prismatic golden body cracked and crumbled around him. He turned once, slowly, and for the briefest moment Emery caught the glint of a smile on the old man’s face — before he lifted his gaze back to the heavens with all his remaining might.

The final blast descended.

Above the arena, the storm gathered itself into a single towering form — a Sentinel of pure metal law, raising a massive hammer high above the world.

It fell.

The blast turned everything white.

The arena cracked. The earth shook. The entire planet felt the tremor roll through its bones.

And Emery watched, staring hard into the whiteout — until, through the blinding light, he saw the Supreme Lord of the Karat faction slowly break apart, his flesh crumbling, his body scattering into ash.

"No..."