Earth's Greatest Magus

Chapter 2676: Temporal Duel 5

Devouring the essence of a Grand Magus expert was no simple feat. The process demanded far more time than anticipated. Consuming their core energy was one thing—but refining it, distilling every strand of power into something usable within Emery’s own system, was an entirely different challenge.

At the very least, Emery felt one immediate benefit. An invigorating rush of energy coursed through his veins as his spirit pool brimmed once more. Strength returned to his limbs, and his senses sharpened with renewed clarity.

Only then did he lift his gaze, shifting his focus across the battlefield, where the chaos of combat still raged.

With his essence stabilized, Emery no longer struggled to pierce through the temporal distortion that blanketed the battlefield. His body surged forward as he arrived at Morgana’s side within seconds.

Waiting there was Tolaro. The dark elf expression twisted in mild irritation as Emery landed, annoyed at yet another interruption. But his displeasure wasn’t solely directed at Emery.

Not only had Emery defeated Kronos, but the other battles were over as well. Livi and Vayarel approached—wounded, but alive. The skeletal beasts had been obliterated, but at great cost. The last of Emery’s godly beasts had perished to secure that victory.

Now, five figures hovered across from Tolaro, encircling him: Morgana, Livi, Vayarel, and both Emerys. They formed a fractured but unwavering wall, bloodied and bruised, yet unbowed.

Talaro, however, showed no fear.

Instead, he smiled. His amused chuckle rising like a slow boil. “Hahaha… And how many of you can still fight?” He sneered, his voice thick with mockery.

And indeed, his words carried weight.

Vayarel and Morgana were both exhausted and wounded—any further fighting could cost them their lives. Livi, despite suffering only a minor injury, had little power to face a three-cosmos expert. As for Dark Emery, his true clone body was on the brink of destruction.

Yet despite it all, the five stood united, determined to fight until the end.

Seeing their defiance, Talaro’s smirk grew wider.

“Don’t worry, I still have something for you all to play with… Now that you’ve destroyed the skeletal beast, I can finally let them out.”

The air trembled as he channeled a spell. Swirling glyphs of void carved themselves into the air, and multiple spatial rifts tore open behind him.

What stepped out made Emery’s stomach churn.

Eight figures emerged—humanoid in shape but grotesque in detail. A man with half his face missing. An elven woman whose spine jutted out unnaturally. Even a massive giant race, lumbering and eyeless. Their skin was deathly pale, stretched taut over rotting muscle and exposed bone. Glowing blue light radiated from their hollow eyes and veins.

These weren’t ordinary undead, as each of them exuded faint cosmic energy.

Emery’s breath caught in his throat as realization struck.

These were not conjured creatures. These were corpses—the dead who had once fought for their freedom in this realm. The very ones whose memories had echoed through the ancient ruins. Here they were, raised from their resting places to serve as puppets.

“You… you monster!” Emery spat, his voice trembling with disgust and rage. It was beyond desecration—it was cruelty carved into the bones of the dead.

Talaro chuckled, amused by the horror on Emery’s face. “I would have taken all of them,” he said, “but some were just too damaged. These were the… better specimens.”

“Sick bastard!!”

“Hahaha… Why?! You’ve read their memoirs, haven’t you? How they wished to get you out of this place… By bringing them, I merely fulfilled their wishes…”

Emery could no longer find the words to respond. Instead, he tightened his grip on his sword and prepared to fight.

“Good… Don’t worry. I’ll grant the same privilege to all of you!”

As soon as Talaro’s words rang through the air, eight undead figures burst forward in pairs—rushing toward the defenders like hounds unleashed. Each twisted, pallid corpse seemed to instinctively sense its target, splitting off to confront Morgana, Vayarel, Livi, and the dark Emery, leaving the light Emery alone to face the dark elf himself.

Though irritated by this turn of events, Emery didn’t let the frustration cloud his mind. He took a deep breath, focused, and cast out his divine sense. Immediately, he began scanning the battlefield, observing the undead. The grotesque creatures moved with jerky, unnatural steps, but their auras still radiated the latent power of what they once were—Grand Magus realm experts.

Thankfully, they no longer retained the full might or mastery of their past lives. Their minds were fragments, echoes of the once-great souls now lost. They fought with basic spells and crude combat techniques, just enough to be dangerous. Yet, their cosmic-forged bodies made them formidable, especially against Emery’s weary companions—most of whom were already battered from earlier clashes.

It quickly became clear which among them were at the greatest risk. Livi, who was the weakest among the group. And the dark Emery, already in a crumbling clone body, was moments away from collapse. These two stood at the brink.

Before Emery could finish his assessment, space warped around him. Talaro appeared like a phantom from the void, his chilling sabers slashing down without warning.

“Don’t ignore me!” the dark elf spat, his eyes flashing with fury.

Emery reacted just in time, raising his Elysian form shields to meet the blow. The clash erupted in a burst of frost and sparks, the sheer impact blasting shockwaves through the air.

A new chaotic duel erupted.

Talaro’s spatial mastery was both swift and erratic—phasing in and out, blinking from one position to another with seemingly no pattern. But Emery’s mastery of temporal law allowed him to match the rhythm. Every sudden phase was countered with a shift in time’s flow—faster, slower, pausing just enough to redirect or intercept the strikes. At moments when his defense faltered, the Elysian roots sprang from the ground like instinctive guardians, blocking or wrapping around the sabers to deflect their path.

But still, Talaro’s strength was immense—overwhelming. When Emery was forced to retreat under a barrage of relentless slashes, he unleashed the power of his soul. A radiant glow burst from within him [Spectral Gaze] manifesting the vibrant, level 5 pagoda, shimmering with the hues of all eight elements.

The mental shockwave that followed was enough to momentarily stagger Talaro, slowing his assault—but not breaking it. The two remained locked, a blur of power and intent, neither able to gain full advantage.

Elsewhere, the battlefield cried out.

A scream tore through the air.

Dark Emery had been impaled—one of the undead had pierced him through from behind. But even as his blood spilled, his twin claws gripped the second undead by the skull and ripped it apart.

It was a suicidal assault—but a calculated one.

The moment the second undead fell, the dark Emery’s clone body could no longer hold together. It began to crumble, breaking apart into spirals of dark mist and blood.

But the soul refused to yield.

With sheer force of will, the soul of dark Emery surged upward, a streak of shadow across the sky. It darted toward Vayarel.

The wounded grand magus did not resist. His eyes flickered once in silent consent, and then his body arched in a burst of light as the soul possession began.

Vayarel’s frame convulsed, his body trembling as the essence of the dark Emery filled him. Morgana and Livi stood back-to-back, defending fiercely against the surrounding undead, buying time for the possession to complete.

And then—he rose.

The dark Emery, reborn in Vayarel’s body. His presence was overwhelming. Eyes burning with power, Khaos rippling through his veins, he raised both arms.

“Let’s finish them all.”