Earth's Greatest Magus

Chapter 2752: Chaotic Slums

A Grand Magus battle was no ordinary clash — it was a cataclysm. Such power could level mountains, part rivers, or scar the earth for centuries. Even in this lawless city, where blood and chaos were everyday affairs, the tremor of two grand magus colliding sent chaos through the populace.

The first shockwave rippled across the southern districts, rattling the crooked shanties and shattering a few windows outright.

From all corners of the southern block, residents reacted in chaos.

Some fled toward the outskirts, others hid behind layered barriers or burrowed deep into their underground vaults. A few reckless souls — rushed toward the source instead, their eyes gleaming with curiosity and greed.

“Who is it this time?!” someone shouted over the rumbling ground. “Which Grand Magus?!”

“It’s coming from the south block!” another cried, his voice nearly lost amid the din. “The Midnight Brotherhood! Their base is under attack!”

“What?!” Gasps spread through the streets like wildfire. “To fight them in their own den—could it be a Supreme Being?!”

One older magus shook his head, clutching his staff. “If it were a Supreme, I would have left already!”

Laughter, nervous and thin, rippled through the crowd.

“That cursed Brotherhood’s been pushing their luck,” a woman muttered, peering from behind a rune-carved window. “it was only a matter of time before someone came for them.”

A grizzled mercenary spat into the dirt. “I just hope it doesn’t bite the rest of us. The last time a Grand Magus fell here, the whole western quarter turned into a crater.”

Speculation spread fast.

“Could it be the Alliance enforcers?”

“Nah! Since when they care about what happening in this city!

Still, despite their fear, the city’s nature prevailed — curiosity stronger than caution. As the minutes passed, figures began to gather near the southern district’s edge, where smoke and magic lightning twisted into the air.

By the time the third explosion rocked the slums, dozens of powerful auras converged. Among them lurked rogue magus, and outlaws whose names were whispered in dread. Three grand magus stood apart from the rest — notorious enough that even hardened criminals gave them space.

Aelric the Veilbinder, master of forbidden occult arts.

Veyrun the Bone Sculptor, a walking relic of death and bonecraft.

And Revan Duskhand, the phantom thief.

They watched the chaos unfold, eyes glittering with interest. For even among villains, the scent of a Grand Magus battle was irresistible — danger, opportunity, and the promise of power, all swirling in the smoke.

Before they could move closer, the ground convulsed.

From the cracked earth, stone creatures clawed their way out — massive golems sculpted with strange symmetry, their cores glowing faintly green. Each one carried a bloodied figure on its shoulder and retreated away from the area.

The gathered magus murmured in confusion. “What are those? Constructs?”

“They’re carrying people,” Aelric noted, his hollow eyes gleaming. “Those are… the Brotherhood’s prisoners.”

But before anyone could react, a surge of energy burst through the ground. A shockwave tore the slum apart. The street split open like a wound, vomiting smoke and rubble.

Then came the explosion.

A violent eruption of light and flame tore the ground apart. Dust and debris soared skyward like volcanic ash as a figure was hurled from the depths, his body smashing through several buildings before crashing in a heap of rubble.

The crowd gasped.

The creature that rose from the ruins hardly looked human—his flesh veined with red light, black horns jutting from his head, every breath exhaling a mist of blood. His roar shook the air, a sound of pain and disbelief.

That’s… that’s Maldrin! The Midnight Demon!” someone shouted.

“What could’ve done that to him?” someone whispered.

The answer came moments later.

Their eyes turned toward the smoking crater from where Maldrin had come. Two yellow eyes glowed in the haze — cold, predatory.

A silhouette emerged through the haze: silver hair whipping in the wind, fur along his arms shimmering with faint moonlight. A half-human, half-wolf figure walked forward with calm, lethal grace.

“A wolfblood… a Grand Magus?”

“Could it be Lucius?!”

“No,” hissed Aelric. “I’ve seen Lucius.. that’s not him!.”

When the silver-haired figure finally stepped into full view, all doubts vanished. In one clawed hand, he dragged the limp, broken body of another Grand Magus—his mask shattered, his mana core flickering faintly.

The wolf-blooded Grand Magus was none other than Emery, though none of the onlookers recognized him beneath his altered form.

Just moments earlier, he had flung the Midnight Demon Maldrin clear across the slums and subdued the masked instructor Barnet.

Emery didn’t hesitate. He bound the defeated man and hurled the unconscious grand magus toward Livi.

Only then did Emery turn his gaze to the devastation around him.

The entire southern block lay in ruin. Craters split the streets, burning debris littered the air, and the ground still quaked faintly from the aftermath of his shattered spatial domain.

Emery’s divine sense swept outward—what it found made his chest tighten. Dozens of faint life-signs, snuffed out. The collateral deaths from his clash were unavoidable… yet it still weighed on him.

He exhaled slowly. This place was a nest of scum, he reminded himself. Few here are innocent. The moment of guilt faded, replaced by a sharper, colder focus.

Ahead of him, Maldrin was rising from the rubble, blood mist coiling like a living shroud around his body. His crimson eyes gleamed with hatred.

Emery’s claws flexed, dark energy crackling at his fingertips. He didn’t wait. With a thunderous burst, he lunged forward.

Maldrin roared and met him head-on. Their claws collided—Khaos energy against Demonic essence—sending shockwaves that split the streets apart. Dust exploded outward as both were forced back, yet neither yielded.

Blow after blow resounded through the city. Each strike from Emery carried the crushing weight of his twilight transformation. Maldrin’s blows, though brutal, grew sloppier with each exchange.

The final clash ended with a blinding slash across Maldrin’s abdomen. Blood mist burst outward like an explosion of red steam as the Midnight Demon fell to one knee, growling in disbelief.

“URRRGHH!”

But he was far from beaten. With a snarl, Maldrin slammed both palms to the ground, summoning another surge of corrupted mist. His demonic aura flared violently as he threw himself forward again, ramming into Emery and sending him crashing through a half-collapsed building.

The structure crumbled under the impact.

Coughing blood, Maldrin turned his glare upon the ring of watching magus and criminals that had gathered. His fury twisted into desperation.

“Are you bastards just going to watch?!” he roared. “Help me—and I’ll share my treasures!!”

That got their attention.

The air filled with murmurs. Some hesitated, others grinned.

From the nearby rooftops, Revan the phantom thief gave a soft chuckle. “Tempting offer. I’ve had my eyes on his vault for years.”

Beside him, Veyrun of the Bone Sculpture—folded his arms, his eyes like twin candles. “Someone strong enough to corner Maldrin. That’s amusing. If he were noble-born, maybe I’d worried. But he is just a halfblood!”

“Then it’s settled,” Revan said with a grin

A heartbeat later, two Grand Magus domains exploded outward—one cloaked in silver shadows, the other in pale bone light.

The slums quaked again as the new contenders joined the fray, and with them, a dozen magus followed, drawn by greed like flies to a corpse.