Earth's Greatest Magus

Chapter 2633: Underdog

Damo’s victory over Hera sent shockwaves rippling through the coliseum. The queen of Kronos, broken and bloodied, had surrendered to a young half-moon warrior. Cheers erupted across the Earth faction’s stands, a celebration of hope rekindled. The scoreboard now read 5 to 4 in Earth’s favor.

But the triumph was short-lived.

The moment Hermes announced Earth’s lead, Damo collapsed to his knees, his body trembling. Blood trickled from the corner of his lips. He had been burning his spirit pool to maintain the [Deva Awakening], forcing power far beyond the limits of a half-moon magus. His breathing grew ragged as his vision blurred, sweat poured down his brow, and his face was pale as paper.

Klea, ever alert, made a swift decision. She called out to Damo. “Surrender. Now!”

The pale, stoic monk hesitated for a heartbeat. But then, with a subtle nod, he obeyed.

Hermes’s voice rang out. “The Earth faction concedes the next match. The score is tied once again: five to five!”

The crowd erupted once more. The duel was now neck and neck, the tension surging like a storm.

Even though the score was now even, the situation was dire. The Earth faction had only three remaining fighters: Chumo, Julian, and Morgana, not counting the highly anticipated Emery. Meanwhile, the Kronos faction still boasted five warriors, three of whom were Grand Magus-level: Poseidon, Zeus, and Kronos himself.

Julian turned to Klea. “Who should go next?”

Klea pressed her hand to her forehead, mind racing.

Hardy, standing nearby, offered his analysis with grim precision. “If we want a chance to win, we need to defeat their Magus-level champions to rack up points. But after what happened with Hera, it’s almost certain they’ll send a Grand Magus next.”

From the side, Damo managed to speak through clenched teeth. “I should’ve stayed in the fight.”

Klea shook her head. “No. You’ve done enough. Besides, pulling you out before they picked their next fighter—it was part of the tactic.”

She turned, gaze settling on Chumo, who stood quietly at the edge of the platform. His pale skin was paler than usual, but a chilling, near-aura-like calm surrounded him.

“You’re next,” she said.

Chumo blinked once, then nodded silently.

“Why him? Send me instead,” Julian asked.

Klea replied. “To them, Chumo is the weakest link. They won’t waste a Grand Magus on him.”

Her logic was sound, and Klea’s prediction proved correct. The Kronos faction had reviewed their intel on Chumo—he was labeled as the weakest among Earth’s five.

But their choice of champion sparked murmurs of confusion.

A muscular, bearded man stepped forward from the Kronos stands. His beard was iron-gray, and his long, calloused fingers were adorned with dozens of metal rings. The crowd murmured as the man was not a renowned warrior.

He pointed directly at Chumo. “You will face me—Hephaestus!”

Hephaestus was not known for his combat prowess, but as a master blacksmith and artificer. His creations were feared, his artifacts unmatched. The Earth faction knew him. He was a half-moon magus that once beaten by Emery.

Yet Klea’s instincts screamed. Something felt wrong.

Hermes signaled the match to begin.

Hephaestus grinned as he raised his right hand. “You all get to see my greatest creation!”

He tapped the ring on his finger, and in an instant, metallic streams poured out, snaking across his limbs. Metallic suits began to cover his body. A deep rumble echoed across the coliseum. Intricate runes flared to life, resonating with divine power.

“Ferrum Divinus,” Hephaestus bellowed. “Molten adamantium crucible base, blessed by the eternal inferno and tempered with…”

But before he could finish his boast—

BANG!

A searing pulse of black light burst across the battlefield. An energy arrow had slammed directly into Hephaestus’ chest.

The smith-god was thrown off his feet, stumbling backward half a dozen steps as cracks spiderwebbed across the glowing runes on his breastplate. He let out a ragged grunt, coughing from the sudden shock.

All eyes snapped to the source.

Chumo stood silently across the arena. His cloak fluttered in the unnatural wind his power conjured, and in his hand, a black bow shimmered with threads of Khaos energy. His face was cold, his eyes half-lidded with disinterest.

“Not impressive,” he said, his voice like a death sentence.

Hephaestus seethed. “Urgh… you brat! I wasn’t finished!”

With a roar, he reached into his spatial rings again, pulling out a cascade of artifacts. Two massive gauntlets, crackling with molten heat. Sleek, rune-etched greaves that hissed when they hit the ground. A chestplate as wide as a battering ram, pulsing with buried runes. The components clattered together like the forming skeleton of a metal titan.

“This—this is the full form of my creation! Crafted from tier-6 divine alloys! Tempered under a forge that never dies! It is…!”

BAAM!!

Another arrow lanced through the air, smashing into the nearly-assembled armor. Sparks and mana fragments exploded from the impact. Hephaestus braced, only sliding back two steps this time—but his frustration was boiling.

“YOU UNCULTURED BASTARD!!” he bellowed, his voice echoing like a forge hammer. “LET ME FINISH!!”

Chumo tilted his head slightly, unbothered. “Why would I let you finish?”

Then, from the shadows beneath Chumo’s feet, a storm of corrupted power began to surge. He pulled the bowstring back again, not one, but five arrows at once. Five ethereal arrows shimmered into existence, shaped from darkness.

With a single breath, Chumo released them.

Hephaestus’ eyes widened. In desperation, he slammed the final artifact onto his head—a grand helmet inlaid with ancient circuitry and burning orange runes. The moment it locked into place, a chain reaction fired through the entire armor.

Each piece began to glow.

The gauntlets clanked into the chestplate. The boots locked at the knees. Plates folded over each other, sealing gaps with hissing steam and mana seals. An explosion of golden light erupted around Hephaestus as his final form activated.

The five arrows struck.

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

The impact shook the arena floor. Stone cracked beneath Hephaestus’ boots. A column of dust and energy surged into the air, obscuring him from view.

But when the dust cleared, he was still standing—hulking, radiant, and seemingly untouched. The armor was vast, like a walking tank. Plates upon plates layered with runes. A furnace glowed in the chest. His eyes behind the helmet burned with artificial light.

He stepped forward, the earth trembling beneath each footfall.

A deep, machine voice echoed from within the suit.

“Behold… my proud Titan Breaker.”

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