Earth's Greatest Magus

[Nixar Expanse]

The Nixar Expanse stretched ominously, a sector resting at the very edge of the Alpha quadrant. It marked the border between human and elven territories for thousands of years, a battleground shaped by relentless, shifting lines.

For the last fifty years, the elves had gained ground, conquering nearly half of the sector's 364 galaxies and transforming much of it into a deadly "Red Zone," where survival was a gamble, and the casualties vast.

After five days of intense travel, the destroyer ship carrying Emery and 250 academy acolytes finally entered this contested zone. As they neared the heart of the Expanse, the destroyer occasionally exited hyperdrive, maneuvering to avoid enemy detection and bypass fields of debris—a telltale mark of countless battles fought here.

The sight outside the ship's windows was both haunting and sobering: vast, silent wreckages of ships—some human, some elven—floated in the void like ghosts of fallen warriors. The initial excitement in the acolytes began to wane, replaced by a heavy sense of reality. RING RING RING

When suddenly the alarm blared throughout the ship, the atmosphere shifted dramatically. The shrill sound cut through the tension like a knife, and the faces of many acolytes paled in an instant. Panic rippled through the group as the reality of their situation set in: caught in a space battle, they would be utterly vulnerable. The terrifying prospect of being blasted apart without any means to defend themselves or being ejected into the cold void of space weighed heavily on their minds.

The alarms blared incessantly, and all eyes darted toward the observation window and the visual feed, where the threat became all too clear. A squadron of a dozen elven fighter ships, sleek and triangular in design, emerged against the stars, moving with an ominous precision. Each fighter ship maneuvered as if woven into a deadly, synchronized dance, moving rapidly toward the destroyer.

Panicked voices rose among the acolytes, some gasping, others muttering in frightened tones. Emery remained composed, but he knew that this was their first experience with the true, unforgiving nature of war.

Outside, the destroyer's turrets lit up, firing in rapid succession, sending flares of concentrated energy toward the advancing fighters. Three elven ships were destroyed on impact, turning into burning fragments in the darkness of space. Yet the remaining ships deftly swerved, executing sharp maneuvers as they circled the destroyer like vultures, their sleek frames weaving around the barrage of firepower.

The elven fighters fired back in rapid bursts, unleashing streams of energy that hammered into the destroyer's barriers. Each impact sent a tremor through the ship's hull, and the acolytes staggered, their grips tightening on anything they could hold onto. The barrier flared, struggling to absorb the relentless assault, and the vibrations intensified with every strike.

For many, it was becoming impossible to mask their fear. This was no simulation; this was war—real, unforgiving, and brutal.

An instructor from one of the other halls, noticing the mounting tension, began calling for the acolytes to brace themselves and prepare for the worst. His voice held a note of urgency that only intensified the unease rippling through the young recruits. But just as he spoke, the vice commander of the ship stepped forward with a sense of calm authority, immediately silencing the mounting panic.

His demeanor exuded confidence, and with a steady presence, he conveyed the real strength of the destroyer they were on. The elven ships, though agile and deadly in small skirmishes, could not easily penetrate the destroyer's formidable defenses. The barrier surrounding the vessel could withstand countless attacks from smaller crafts, and even if the shield eventually faltered, the destroyer's thick hull would offer additional protection. He emphasized that unless the elves sent in one of their cruisers or heavy blaster ships, there was little reason for concern. In fact, he mentioned that he himself, being a grand magus, could handle the situation should it escalate.

Minutes later, as if on cue, a Magus Alliance fleet emerged on the viewing screens, their sleek, silver forms cutting through the darkness of space in perfect formation. The elven fighters, sensing the imminent threat of being outnumbered, quickly adjusted their tactics and began to scatter. The cheers of relief erupted among the acolytes, their earlier panic dissolving as the tension in the air lifted.

"We are saved!!"

The attempt by the elves to harass the sector was nothing new—a tactic used to instill fear and disrupt morale. However, to ensure the acolyte's safety, the Magus Alliance had specifically assigned the advance destroyer for their transport, a privilege that came with their status.

Soon, the destroyer was joined by additional ships forming a protective convoy: four medium transport vessels and eight fighter-class ships, sleek and nimble, flanking the larger crafts. This convoy was part of a logistics fleet, carrying fresh supplies, troops, and resources, all heading toward the same destination.

[Nixar Space Station]

It was a massive, heavily fortified station strategically placed at the center of the Nixar Expanse, right in the thick of the battle zone. Emery and the other acolytes looked on as the station grew closer. It was surrounded by an array of defensive structures, each fitted with energy cannons and layers of shielding, while fleets of alliance ships moved in formation around it, constantly monitoring for any threat.

Upon arrival, Emery, along with the other instructors and 250 acolytes, was called to assemble in a large briefing hall within the station.

The atmosphere in the room was thick with anticipation, and the acolytes stood with a mix of excitement and tension when a military general, a peak three-cosmos grand magus entered, his aura emanating an impressive and formidable energy that caught the attention of everyone present. "Very good! The best and brightest are here! Welcome to my station!" 𝙍Ã₦օꞖÈs̈

He welcomed them with a voice that resonated through the hall, his enthusiasm barely contained.

The Nixar Station was a hub of military power, hosting over half a million personnel, with a formidable force of five thousand magus and more than fifty grand magus. Such numbers underscored the significance of the station, but the commander-in-chief's open excitement upon welcoming the Magus Academy acolytes was clear evidence of the regard in which they were held.

As part of their induction, all academy acolytes received formal military ranks: each was designated as a private, while Emery, as an instructor, was given the officer rank of first lieutenant. Klea and Sirri were appointed second lieutenants, creating a hierarchy that matched real military protocol.

Although these ranks were only effective for the duration of their month-long deployment, they came with full responsibilities and privileges, instilling both pride and a sense of duty in everyone involved.

Next came the uniforms, neatly stacked and pressed, each bearing the unique insignia of the Magus Academy, complete with identification tags that distinguished them as part of this special contingent. The acolytes donned the attire, which came equipped with standard military gear. Seeing themselves outfitted like the seasoned soldiers surrounding them was a surreal experience, grounding them in the reality of their assignment.

Once the orientation concluded, a system notification came, outlining the structure of the exam and how they could accumulate points for their final grades. It was clear that the academy intended to simulate the rigors of actual military life as accurately as possible:

[Promotions] – based on performance, leading to potential advancement in military ranks. [Kill count]– earning points by taking down enemies, from lower-ranked orcs to high-ranking elven officers. [Mission Clearance] – points awarded according to the military mission difficulty and completion success.

After digesting this information, the acolytes received their first assignment:

[Logistic Transport] While it initially seemed straightforward, a closer inspection of the task revealed its complexity and danger. They were to transport critical supplies to a planet embroiled in some of the most intense fighting in the sector. ####

While the acolytes were immersed in their exam, a different atmosphere brewed within a lavish palace on the Nephilim planet. One particular female grand magus, confined within her own quarters, paced with barely contained anger. Her trusted advisor entered the chamber at her summons. Sensing her anger, he listened carefully as she outlined her plan, her voice laced with venom as she revealed her intentions.

"I will not let that filthy lower realm instructor and his students graduate in peace. This is our last chance to stop them... kill them all."

"My Lady," he began cautiously "we cannot. Not now. They are officially part of the military force, and none of our people would dare to go after them, especially not in the current situation."

A cruel smirk spread across her face, undeterred by his warnings. "You fool," she sneered, "We don't need to send anyone" Her eyes gleamed with malicious intent. "Simply send a message to the dark elves... reveal the whereabouts of their most wanted 'Savage Magus.' They'll be more than happy to take care of the rest for us"

####

Author Notes.

This chapter concludes the month of October, and once again, I would like to express my heartfelt gratitude. I hope you have enjoyed the reading experience, and if there is anything that still feels lacking, I will do my utmost to improve next month.

I apologize for not being able to keep my promise for multiple mass releases, due to having to help with my sister's engagements and an accident that hurt me for a week. I will definitely make the time next month.

Thank you for your continued support, and I hope you'll join me again next month!

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