Earth's Greatest Magus

As the Night Raven descended toward orbit, the first thing that caught Emery’s eye was the colossal mountain dominating the planet below.

Three massive stone statues surrounded its peak.

Each stood well over half a mile tall, carved with such extraordinary precision that, even from orbit, every scale, muscle, and claw seemed poised to come alive.

The first possessed no legs at all. Its serpentine body coiled around the mountain’s northern face, its tail disappearing into the sea of clouds far below while its head rose proudly above the summit. Long fins ran the length of its spine, while the scales near its tail retained the appearance of an ancient sea serpent rather than a true dragon.

The second stood firmly upon four powerful legs, planted in a vast field of carved stone grass where not a single blade appeared bent beneath its immense weight. A single majestic antler-like horn swept backward from its brow.

The third has enormous wings stretched so wide they cast a shadow across the other two. Every feather-like scale had been carved impossibly thin, giving the illusion that a single gust of wind might lift the statue into the heavens.

Together, the three monuments represented the founding bloodlines of dragonkind.

Yunlong, the Sea Dragons.

Qinlong, the Earth Dragons.

Tianlong, the Sky Dragons.

Each bloodline ruled its own Grade Four faction and its own homeworld, scattered across the sector.

Vaelmere was an endless ocean world where the Yunlong built floating cities upon the waves. Kharun was a mountainous realm of vast forests and sprawling stone halls, home to the Qinlong. Aureth, meanwhile, was not truly a planet at all, but a collection of floating continents drifting within the storm belts of a colossal gas giant, where the Tianlong had ruled the skies for countless generations.

Each faction possessed hundreds of Grand Magus and Supreme experts of its own, making each strength comparable to that of the Karat Empire.

The world Emery had come to, was build and shared by all three.

Upon the planet’s single great continent stood three ancient temples, each occupying one corner of the landmass and serving as the sacred heart of its respective dragon clan.

At the exact center, rose a single shared metropolis.

Draconic Prime City.

Emery guided the Night Raven into a slow descent, deliberately taking his time to observe the city below.

Draconic Prime sprawled across the coastline like an immense marble acropolis. White stone terraces climbed the mountainside in broad tiers, linked by towering stairways and elegant bridges. Fluted columns supported vast halls whose pediments were carved not with ancient gods, but with dragons frozen in flight and battle. Soft streams of rune-light pulsed beneath the polished stone, veins of ancient magic quietly flowing through architecture that had endured for countless generations.

Above the city, dragon riders patrolled in loose formations, their scaled mounts gliding effortlessly between sleek starships hovering high overhead. Ancient tradition, cultivation, and advanced engineering existed side by side, none seeming out of place beside the others.

Emery had no intention of docking.

Once the Night Raven descended close enough to the city outskirts, he stepped into open air and, with a thought, recalled the entire vessel into his inner domain.

The rest of the journey he covered alone, flying toward one of the city’s outer gates.

Although only cultivators who had reached the Magus Realm or higher were permitted to enter Draconic Prime, flying over the city itself was strictly forbidden. Even Grand Magus were required to descend outside the walls and enter through the designated gates.

Emery landed alongside dozens of newly arrived cultivators and quietly joined the flow of people approaching the checkpoint.

Rows of Dragon Knights stood guard along the entrance, their polished silver armor gleaming beneath the afternoon sun. Every one of them possessed cultivation ranging from the middle to the peak of the Magus Realm, and despite the endless stream of arrivals, not a single formation showed the slightest sign of disorder.

The ordinary entrance queue stretched far. Fortunately, Grand Magus cultivators had their own inspection line.

Even then, Emery had no intention of revealing his true strength. He quietly suppressed his aura, concealing everything beyond the One Cosmos Realm. It was a level respectable enough to receive proper treatment, yet ordinary enough that no one would pay him any special attention afterward.

When his turn arrived, the dragon half-blood overseeing the checkpoint greeted him with practiced professionalism. Beneath that courtesy, however, Emery could still sense the quiet confidence—perhaps even arrogance—that seemed deeply rooted in nearly every dragon-blooded cultivator.

"Name and affiliation."

"Emery Ambrose. Earth Faction."

He handed over his Alliance identification token.

The administrator barely glanced at him. After scanning the token and confirming the information, he gave a brief nod before waving Emery through without another word.

In most places across the Magus Universe, the title of Grade Two Faction Leader commanded immediate respect.

Here, in the heart of Dragon Holyland, it was little more than another entry on a registration record.

Past the gate, the city revealed itself in full, and despite his purpose for coming, Emery found himself slowing to take it all in.

Broad cobbled streets wound between elegant buildings that climbed three and four stories into the air. Storefronts displayed floating signs written in dozens of scripts, some familiar, many entirely foreign, while merchants called out from colorful stalls piled high with treasures.

Only after wandering for several minutes did Emery remind himself why he had come.

Before his departure, the Ouroboros Queen had warned him about the city of it’s laws and regulations, many of which did not bend even for Grand Magus cultivators. Her advice had been simple: seek out the local branches of either the Serpent or Wolf half-blood factions, that could provide him with a proper foothold.

Emery, however, had no intention to do so.

Not yet.

He casually turned into a quiet side alley. Moments later, four identical figures emerged from the opposite end, each dressed in the same dark green robe with a hood partially concealing their faces.

Three of them were his shadow clones.

These were the clones he normally kept within his Khaos Domain for personal use, but today they served a different purpose. Without exchanging a word, the three quietly disappeared in different directions, blending effortlessly into the crowds as they began exploring separate districts of the enormous city.

Their eyes would become his own.

Meanwhile, Emery continued wandering through the bustling streets, allowing the endless stream of pedestrians to carry him past plazas, markets, and towering halls until his curiosity was finally satisfied.

Only then did he stop before one of the busiest establishments along the avenue.

The Dragon’s Breath.

"...Looks proper enough," he muttered before stepping inside.

The interior was just as lively as the streets outside. Dragon-blooded cultivators, merchants, mercenaries, and travelers crowded the spacious hall, their conversations blending into a constant hum accompanied by laughter, clinking cups, and the aroma of unfamiliar dishes.

Emery ordered the house specialty, chose a seat with a clear view of the room, and settled in to eat.

Rather than asking direct questions, he struck up casual conversation with the bartender.

At the same time, through the connection linking him to his shadow clones, his divine sense quietly expanded, allowing him to experience three other parts of Draconic Prime simultaneously through his clones.

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