SUPREME ARCH-MAGUS

Dark Sea…

The Abyssal Mountain loomed at the centre of the dark sea like a monolith of forgotten nightmares, its jagged peaks piercing the clouds and plunging their roots deep into the ocean floor.

Phillip, the new Demon Emperor, stood tall upon the rocky shore, his crimson eyes burning with relentless ambition.

“Keep the serpent ropes tight! Do not break lose!” Phillip’s voice thundered across the waters, shaking the very fabric of the dark sea. His massive black cloak fluttered in the wind, adorned with the skeletal crown of the previous Demon Emperor. The army of demons working behind him acknowledged his command with low growls and fervent nods.

Thick, abyssal serpent beasts coiled around the mountain, their scales glinting faintly under the eerie light of the blood-red moon. The demons had painstakingly bound the serpents to the mountain like colossal chains, their bodies acting as living ropes.

“Stop on the left side, Now, rightside, Pull!” Phillip raised his arm, and a deafening horn echoed from the cliffs. Rows of demons lined up along the shore, gripping the serpents’ tails, their claws sinking deep into the beastly flesh. With synchronized grunts, they heaved, and the great mountain groaned in resistance.

The dark waters roiled violently as the mountain began to shift. Waves lashed at the shore, and lightning cracked across the sky, illuminating the sweat-drenched faces of the laboring demons.

Phillip’s gaze never left the mountain base.

Hours passed, and the first shifts began to collapse, exhausted. Phillip ordered a second wave to take their place immediately. The work could not stop. The nectar essence of the Abyssal Mountain was too valuable—a prize capable of pushing him directly to the half-sovereign state without the years of enlightenment that others had failed to achieve.

“Ahhrereereerrrrr…”

Suddenly, a scream pierced the night.

All the serpent heads on rope, twisted violently, throwing demons from the shore into the raging sea. Their eyes burned with unnatural fury. “Emperor! The serpents are resisting!” a demon scout shouted from the cliffs.

Phillip’s eyes narrowed. He ascended into the air, his black boots grazing the wind. Drawing his abyssal spear, he hovered over the thrashing serpent.

“You will submit.” His voice was cold as iron.

The serpent hissed, jaws wide and ready to strike. But Phillip was faster. With a flick of his wrist, he drove the spear through the beast’s skull. Its body convulsed and then went limp, sinking into the water. The remaining serpents hissed but stayed bound.

“Tie another serpent! Replace the fallen ones! If anyone resists, kill it directly and replace it with a new one.” Phillip bellowed, landing gracefully upon the shifting rocks.

A demon general stepped forward. “Emperor, we are losing too many serpents. At this rate, the mountain will not churn by the next dawn.”

Phillip’s eyes darkened. “Then we will use our own ghost serpents. If they fail, I will bind you guys like a rope. So, stop complaining and work hard.”

The crowd fell into hushed murmurs. Demons sacrificing their own to replace the serpents was unheard of—not since the reign of the first demon lords.

The demons hesitated but obeyed, wrapping the shadowy serpents around the mountain as they had the abyssal beasts.

Phillip watched the scene unfold, his face unreadable. The churning continued.

–

Blue Planet…

The Council of the Nine Realms had not convened like this in centuries. The grand hall of the Nine Realms Association rang with an uneasy energy as the realm heads arrived one by one.

Their robes shined with the insignias of their realms, ancient powers radiating off each of them like cascading waves.

Jason Mama, the Association’s head, sat at the center of the crescent table, fingers drumming against the polished armrest of his chair, his expression cold and unyielding. Continue reading stories on My Virtual Library Empire

Everyone was tense. The news of Alaric’s death had spread across the realms like wildfire, shaking the very foundation of the association. Alaric wasn’t just a supreme magus of the Blue Planet Wizard Association; he was the leader, one that many believed untouchable. His death hinted at forces beyond comprehension.

One by one, the realm heads took their seats.

“Where are the Supremes of the Blue Planet?” Jason’s voice echoed, sharp as steel.

“They have declined to attend, Supreme Jason. Only me and the serpent lady Kriya arrived.” replied the dark-clad figure of Dagger Magus Thallic, his voice quiet but firm. “They are following the orders of the Supreme Sword Magus, who now leads their ranks.”

Jason’s eyes narrowed. “Sword Magus Elarin?”

“Yes, my lord. Elarin has taken control,” said Lady Serpent Magus Kriya, her emerald robes shimmering like a snake’s scales as she leaned forward. “The Blue Planet believes their matters are best handled internally. But Alaric’s death affects us all. I, for one, choose to stand by you, Jason.”

“And I,” Thallic added.

Jason’s gaze softened for a brief moment. “Thank you both.” He scanned the other seven. “I summoned this council to discuss not just Alaric’s death, but the gathering of forces within the Divine Deity Sect. Reports indicate thousands of soldiers are mobilizing, but no war has been declared. This is not a coincidence.”

Grand Illusionist Marlin of the Fifth Realm spoke up, his eyes glimmering with suspicion. “Alaric was no fool. If he fell, it was not by a simple blade. There must be a greater force at work within that sect.”

“Greater force or not, the gathering of soldiers is undeniable. Lord Jason, already said everything to me.” said Storm Herald Tyros, folding his arms. “But why send others and risk losing more of our people? Should we not address this head-on?”

Jason’s lips thinned. “Because a direct confrontation could spark something beyond our control. However, we cannot ignore the truth that lies before us. The sect has become a magnet for powers unknown.”

There was silence. Even the Obsidian Citadel seemed to still be at the weight of Jason’s words.

“You suspect a connection between the new enemy faction and the sect?” asked Lady Kriya, her eyes narrowing.

Jason nodded. “I do. The timing is too precise. Elarin’s silence, Alaric’s death and the movement of troops, —I cannot ignore the patterns. We need to go there together. As one force.”

“You ask us to march into the unknown?” scoffed Lord Flint, head of the Realm of sixth. “Why should I risk the lives of my men for the secrets of the Blue Planet?”

Jason’s eyes burned. “Because the next death may not be a single supreme. It could be you. Or all of us. The Divine Deity Sect has become a crucible of something far greater than we know. Ignoring it will not protect you.”

Murmurs rippled through the table. Each realm head exchanged glances, weighing the danger against pride and survival.

“I will go,” said Kriya, rising from her seat. “I’ve long suspected the sect of dabbling in forbidden arts. It’s time we peeled back their facade. Wake up, One Supreme died on my land.”

“I will join as well,” Thallic said without hesitation. “I have no desire to sit and wait for death.”

Slowly, one by one, the realm heads nodded in agreement, though some more reluctantly than others.

Jason stood, placing his palms firmly on the table. “Then it is decided. We leave for the Blue Planet in a few days. Send word to your armies. The future of the realms may well be decided at the gates of the Divine Deity Sect.”

As the realm heads dispersed, Jason remained seated, eyes fixed on the dark horizon beyond the citadel’s windows.

“Elarin,” he whispered to himself, “whatever you are hiding, I am going to rip it off.”

–

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