Earth's Greatest Magus

"Sir, let me join them—I'll send my team to support the defense!" Sergeant Vorlax urged, gesturing to his men as the rumbling of the orc horde intensified.

But Emery met his determination with a firm shake of his head. "Your mission is the cargo. Guard the sand boat. That's your priority."

Though Emery's tone was calm, his vigilance was unwavering. His divine sense extended across the battlefield, monitoring each acolyte's position and every shift in their situation, ready to step in if any faced a mortal threat.

"More approaching from the west!" Emery relayed and Hardy responded instantly, directing a handful of acolytes to fortify the western line, positioning them with precision to block the orcs' path.

"Hold steady! Keep your positions!" Hardy rallying his team while shooting multiple shots from his blaster, killing any incoming orcs. "Fight, fight, fight!" he roared, his words fueling their spirits.

By this stage, each acolyte had personally taken down more than ten orcs. Their initial fear had transformed into fierce determination; their confidence radiated through their combat stances as they showcased the breadth of their skills.

Some acolytes wielded their weapons with honed technique, blending calculated slashes and thrusts with swift maneuvers. Others channeled magic, sending waves of fire, frost, and energy blasts that seared through the orcs' ranks.

The ridge trembled under the combined forces clashing, and yet the acolytes held the line, drawing on every ounce of their training. Emery could sense their progress, seeing his young warriors grow stronger with each moment. The harsh environment, the unending tide of orcs, and the demands of real battle had revealed their potential in a way that no training exercise ever could.

Among the chaotic throng of orcs, every hundred or so included a few formidable champions, elite warriors renowned for their strength and ferocity.

Yet, in this moment of battle, Blaine asserted his dominance. As an orc champion charged forward, swinging a massive axe with brute force, Blaine met the challenge head-on. He caught the axe mid-swing with his bare hand and In one swift motion, he retaliated with an explosive punch, shattering not just the champion's form but also the morale of the surrounding horde.

Meanwhile, King Rig, aimed to compete, broke away from the formation, darting to a vantage point on the eastern front. From this strategic position, he unleashed a torrent of dark lightning, arcs of energy slicing through the air and crashing into the oncoming waves of orcs.

CHWIKKK!! CHIWIKK!!!

Farther back, an orc warchief—a figure draped in heavy furs and wielding a staff—raised his weapon to support the faltering horde with a powerful spell. But before he could even utter the incantation, a swift shadow appeared behind him.

It was Ha Ron, moving with lethal precision. With one fluid slash, Ha Ron severed the warchief's head, his blade cutting cleanly through. Swiftly scaling a nearby cliff, Ha Ron held the severed head high, letting the gruesome trophy dangle for all to see.

"Your Chief is DEAD!!"

The impact was immediate. The orcs' morale crumbled at the sight of their fallen leader, and panic rippled through their ranks. They began to retreat in the dozens, their snarls and cries echoing as they fled back into the desert sands.

It was an unmistakable victory. With adrenaline surging and hearts pounding, the acolytes erupted in jubilant shouts, their voices carrying across the battlefield. It was a moment of glory they would never forget.

Klea moved quickly among the acolytes, her hands glowing softly as she channeled healing spells into those who had taken injuries in the fray. Beside her, Magus Sirri meticulously documented every detail of the battle, tallying points for the acolytes' achievements.

The total soon appeared on the system, earned from eliminating over 1,300 orcs.

[Top Hall Ranking - Day 1/30]

[3rd Place: Hall 6 - 3250 Points]

Emery stood at the edge of the aftermath, his gaze scanning the deserted plains with a contemplative expression. While he felt pride in his students' resilience and teamwork, there was a flicker of disappointment beneath his satisfaction. The orcs they had fought were disorganized wild orcs. There was no sign of elf commanders or any structured influence behind them. ʀ𝐚ℕ∅ꞖËş

As if sensing his thoughts, Klea approached. "It was still a good first battle," Emery's features softened, and he nodded, acknowledging her words.

Taking a final look at the cleared battlefield, he raised his voice to rally the acolytes. "Alright, everyone, let's move out!"

The sand boat sliced through the arid expanse of the desert, its engine roaring as it propelled them forward, leaving a trail of swirling dust in its wake. The relentless sun beat down, but inside the vessel, the atmosphere was electric with adrenaline from their recent victory.

As they traveled, Emery remained vigilant, pausing occasionally to confront small groups of orcs that wandered too close to their path. Each encounter was swift and decisive, even those orcs who showed signs of surrender were not spared, ensuring the area remained clear as they made their way to their next destination.

After a few hours, they arrived at their next checkpoint.

Rising before them was a desolate, ruined city, its crumbling buildings reaching like skeletal fingers out of the sand dunes. Some of the structures, half-buried and weather-beaten, showed the scars of past battles and decades of abandonment.

Among the ruins, they spotted an old arena repurposed into a makeshift fortress, its walls reinforced and patrolled by vigilant sentries.

As they docked the sand boat, a sense of foreboding hung in the air, amplified by the absence of civilian life. Unlike the previous outpost, this place was starkly militarized, filled with 2,000 soldiers, one in every ten a Magus realm individual.

"The supplies are here!" shouted a high-ranking officer as he spotted them.

Emery could feel the weight of the officer's power—a Grand Magus wielding two cosmos realms, overseeing this critical outpost in the vast desert.

As the officers inspected the cargo, Emery took the opportunity to converse with those in command, eager to learn more about the unfolding situation in the desert.

Recognizing that Emery would still headed toward another post, the officers were more than willing to share details with him, appreciative of the support and the continuity of his mission.

Emery spoke with them, learning what he could about the desert's current situation and any changes in orc or elf movements.

However, both Magus Sirri and Sergeant Vorlax couldn't help but grow anxious as Emery showed a keen interest in learning all the elf base and orcs' hives locations within the planet.

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