Earth's Greatest Magus

Vanyar Canta,

A magnificent green forest enveloped in a vibrant tapestry of life, was one of the seven renowned Vanyar colonies in the vast universe. Nestled far from the chaotic battlefields and situated near the neutral zone, this particular colony had earned a reputation for maintaining a steadfast neutrality amidst the ongoing war between humans and elves.

The colony thrived within the boundaries of Meggumma, a sprawling jungle teeming with lush foliage and inhabited by an array of extraordinary woodland creatures. Deep within the heart of this jungle, a small community of wood elves, numbering no more than a hundred, resided harmoniously with the enchanting spirits of the woods.

On this particular morning, a group of young wood elves embarked on a playful pursuit, chasing a peculiar humanoid-looking plant creature through the emerald undergrowth. Laughter and joy reverberated through the air as the youngsters closed in on their elusive target, ultimately cornering it near the precipice of a towering cliff.

“We’ve got you now!” they jubilantly exclaimed, their youthful exuberance fueling their determination.

In an orchestrated symphony of agility and grace, five young wood elves pounced upon the wood creature, brandishing their small elven knives. However, to their astonishment, the creature swiftly adapted, its two arms sprouting multiple roots that effortlessly deflected their every strike.

As the chase unfolded, the very ground beneath their feet quivered with an unsettling tremor. Suddenly, the cliff edge they occupied gave way, fissuring into a treacherous landslide. Panic gripped their hearts as they clung precariously to the cliff’s edge, their very lives hanging in the balance.

“NO!!”

“HELP!!”

Yet, in the midst of their peril, the wood creature’s essence revealed itself. With unparalleled swiftness and dexterity, its wooden arms transformed into makeshift bridges, catching each of the young elves and firmly anchoring itself to the cliff, becoming a lifeline for their survival.

All five young wood elves and the wood creature were left hanging on the cliffs, when they shock dissipated, laughter fill the air.

“Twik! You are the best!!”

Relief flooded their beings as they were safely reunited with their village. Gratefulness and admiration poured forth from their voices as they praised the wood creature named Twik for his valiant rescue.

With the young elven safely back in the village, Twik ventured further into the depths of the Meggumma jungle, guided by an innate instinct. Following a meandering path, he arrived at a modest-sized hut nestled amidst the ancient trees. Waiting patiently outside was a woman with fiery red hair, her eyes sparkling with anticipation.

“I can tell that you were in trouble you know”

“ku… ku, no i was not”𝗈𝓋𝑙xt.𝑪𝐎𝗆

Her glare turn to smile as she said “Well did you at least  have fun?” she asked, her voice a gentle caress of concern.

Twik responded with an enthusiastic nod, his eyes aglow with the memories of their exhilarating adventure. However, their elation was short-lived, for they sensed the approach of multiple figures, a gathering of wood elves mounted atop majestic white deer.

As the entourage drew nearer, five of the riders donned the attire of skilled warriors, their white sashes serving as symbols of their martial prowess. The sixth member, distinguished by a robe adorned with a resplendent gold sash, emanated an aura of nobility and wisdom.

With grace and reverence, the red-haired woman offered a respectful bow and greeted the group in the elven tongue, “Welcome, Mae govannen.”

The wood elves responded in kind, reciprocating the greeting in unison.

Stepping forward, one of the warriors addressed the woman, his voice tinged with formality,

“We are in search of the esteemed Apothecary master known as Merlin. Our master, Haleth, seeks an audience with him.”

Maintaining her composure, the woman replied with an air of calm authority, “My apology, but Master Merlin is currently engrossed in his alchemical pursuits and cannot be disturbed at this moment.”

A furrow creased the warrior’s brow, a testament to his frustration, but the noble among them intervened, diffusing the tension. Descending gracefully from his deer mount, he positioned himself before the humble abode, displaying unwavering patience.

Hours stretched on, and still, Merlin did not emerge from the hut. To their surprise, another group arrived, bearing a striking resemblance to the first. The two parties exchanged warm greetings, evidently acquainted with one another, before silently resuming their patient vigil.

The wood elves possessed a remarkable capacity for patience, their stoic presence unwavering as they stood before the hut.

Meanwhile, in another corner of the sprawling forest, a vastly different gathering took place. This assembly consisted of dark elves, their gray skin contrasting starkly with their attire of pitch-black garments. They were the Hasisha, a fearless clan of dark assassins renowned for their stealth and deadly precision.

Their purpose was clear: to investigate a certain individual named Merlin and eliminate him. However, their plan to wait until nightfall proved to be an ill-fated choice. The hut, their intended target, had unexpectedly become a focal point of bustling activity, teeming with a dozen magus-level wood elves.

Perplexed, the assassin leader muttered in frustration, “Who is our target really?”

The orders they had received depicted Merlin as a low-ranking druid apothecary, dwelling amidst the simplicity of the forest. Yet, they now found themselves confronted by numerous white-sashed warriors—an elite caste among the wood elves—and two figures adorned with the prestigious gold sashes, symbolizing their significance and power.

“Let us retreat for now. Tonight is not a good time,” the leader declared, recognizing the folly of their current endeavor.

However, as they turned to withdraw, they were confronted by an unexpected obstacle. Standing before them was a wood elf whose presence had eluded their senses, a formidable figure whose mere existence spelled trouble. The man exuded an aura that could only be attributed to a grand magus. Realizing the gravity of the situation, the assassin leader promptly called for a hasty retreat, only to find their limbs ensnared by powerful vines that swiftly encased their bodies.

“Dark elves dare to cause trouble in our Vanyar,” the man intoned calmly.

Commanding the vines to release their captive intruders, the man proceeded leisurely toward the hut. As the two wood elf nobles caught sight of him, they immediately bowed, their faces reflecting the utmost reverence.

“Exalted Aegnor, are you here to see Master Merlin as well?” one of them inquired, a mix of curiosity and deference in their voice.

“Yes, I am,” Aegnor replied, his tone firm and resolute.

Simultaneously, the door of the hut swung open, the one called Merlin was no other than Emery. 

As he saw the crowd outside, he couldn’t help but gives a deep sigh and said

“All right, those who arrived first may enter,” 

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Author Note

Here to ask for your support on purchasing the privilege’s chapters, both tier 4 and tier 5 were currently in special discounts, only for this month. thank you

SPOILER WARNING

Emery will get his power back on this month chapters