Earth's Greatest Magus

Chapter 3117: Supreme Battle

This was the largest battle Emery had ever witnessed.

Six Supremes were already on the field, each possessing enough power to flatten a mountain range. Their auras spread across the battlefield like invisible storms, distorting the air around them and sending long, trembling swells across the sea.

Below, even the strongest Magus seemed insignificant, their individual strength barely enough to make as Cannon fodder.

Yet as Emery observed the battlefield, he realized that the Pardera Magus soldiers made up for their lack of strength with remarkable discipline.

Thousands of Magus soldiers lined the ramparts, each holding an assigned position along the sprawling defensive line. None rushed recklessly toward the advancing Scourge. Instead, they remained behind protective barriers, sheltered by layers of formation runes that shimmered whenever enemy attacks struck the walls.

Heavy ballistae, some as long as fishing boats, fired enchanted bolts into the approaching horde. Each release produced a thunderous snap, followed by a streak of light that tore through the air before detonating among the infected. Rows of archers worked in rolling volleys, their arrows descending upon the enemy in dense waves. Spellcasters stationed between the defensive structures unleashed successive bursts of elemental energy, ensuring that no single section of the Scourge could advance without suffering heavy losses.

Their individual attacks might have seemed insignificant against millions of enemies, but their combined firepower was anything but.

The soldiers understood their purpose. They were not expected to defeat the Scourge alone, nor were they meant to abandon their positions in pursuit of personal glory. Their task was to hold the line, support the stronger cultivators, and eliminate any creatures that managed to break through the outer defenses.

The Grand Magus were the true fighters on the field.

They operated in small units of five or six, their formations adjusted according to the enemies they faced. Some remained near the watchtowers, using their elevated positions to launch precise attacks against the stronger creatures moving through the swarm. Others ventured beyond the defensive line, striking at infected Grand Magus and powerful beasts whose presence threatened to overwhelm the soldiers below.

Their role was far more dangerous than that of the ordinary defenders. They had to identify the greatest threats, engage them directly, and create openings for the fortress to exploit. If they succeeded, the soldiers could continue their bombardment with fewer interruptions. If they failed, even a single powerful infected creature might tear through the defensive line and allow thousands of lesser monsters to flood the walls.

Emery’s divine sense picked out scene after scene.

Near the eastern cliffs, six Grand Magus had been cut off, back to back in a shrinking circle. Winged spawn dropped on them from above while hounds gnawed at their legs. A grizzled woman in the center slammed her halberd into the ground and a ring of stone spikes burst outward. The spawn impaled themselves by the dozen. A man beside her took a claw to the shoulder, roared, and kept swinging.

Further down the coast, a massive infected bird, wings of rotting feather and bone, wheeled above a stone bastion. Its screech burst the eardrums of every Magus on the wall.

Five Grand Magus rose to meet it, weaving a net of chained light around its talons. The beast shredded the net in seconds. A broad-shouldered swordsman hacked at its breast while his comrades fell back and rallied.

The surviving cultivators did not have time to celebrate. One supported an injured comrade while another turned back toward the bastion, already searching for the next threat.

Emery watched the entire exchange through his divine sense, his expression unchanged.

Every skirmish revealed another aspect of the war: the Scourge possessed overwhelming numbers and seemingly endless reinforcements, while the defenders relied on discipline, cooperation, and the careful deployment of their limited strength.

And this was only one section of the vast defensive line.

Across the coast, countless other battles were unfolding simultaneously. Every position demanded attention, every breach threatened to become a disaster.

High above the battlefield, the Supremes waged their own deadly war.

Four of the six had engaged infected Supremes in the open sky, each confrontation unfolding miles away from the others.

The sky split into four separate wars.

To the east, a Supreme in pale blue robes unleashed a wall of frozen spears. An infected giant-kin met them with a fist wrapped in raw lightning, and the sky detonated in a dome of ice and thunder. To the west, a bearded man in plain brown cloth planted both palms and a mountain rose out of the sea. The infected Supreme before him, a hunched thing trailing purple vines, cut it apart in three slashes.

Techniques collided and bled into one another. Flame met frost. Wind sliced through shadow. Law grated against law until the sky shuddered.

Their immense auras spread across the heavens, creating separate domains of destruction where ordinary cultivators could scarcely hope to survive. Behind them, the Scourge continued to advance, its countless corrupted bodies forming a towering black tide along the opposite shore. At the heart of that monstrous army, Parasite X loomed over the strait, its enormous tentacles coiling through the clouds like the limbs of a second storm.

Emery watched the distant battles carefully, his divine sense moving between the powerful auras.

He could already tell that the visible forces were not the full extent of the enemy’s strength. Something else lingered within the shadows of the horde, its presence concealed beneath the overwhelming mass of corrupted energy. He could not yet identify those hidden threats, but the faint disturbances in his perception told him they were waiting for the right moment to emerge.

Behind them all, Illir Batara the War Titan hung motionless in the air, obsidian armor drinking the light. A female Supreme in silver-grey stood at his side, her hands folded in her sleeves.

Neither had joined the fighting.

They simply watched.

From their positions, they had a clear view of the battlefield, and their stillness suggested that they were waiting for something rather than hesitating to act. Emery could not determine whether they were holding back to protect the defensive line, conserving their strength for a greater threat, or waiting for the enemy to reveal its remaining forces.

Whatever their reasons, their restraint was striking.

Even from such a great distance, the power unleashed by the Supremes could not be contained within their immediate surroundings. Every major collision sent shockwaves across the strait, and the defensive formations along the cliffs struggled to absorb the excess force.

One particularly violent shockwave swept across a section of the ramparts.

A hundred soldiers disappeared beneath a burst of destructive energy, their bodies swallowed by the explosion before they could escape. Nearby, half a dozen Grand Magus who had failed to raise their defenses in time were reduced to ash, leaving nothing behind but fading traces of spiritual energy.

The devastation lasted only a moment.

For the soldiers stationed nearby, however, those few seconds had erased comrades who had stood beside them only moments earlier. Still, the surviving defenders had no time to stop and mourn. The Scourge continued pressing forward, and every gap in the defensive line threatened to become an opening through which the enemy could pour.

The battle rolled on.