Greatest Legacy of the Magus Universe

The Potions of Explosions continued to fall from the sky, accurately landing on the decks of the tall-masted ships below.

One after another, the ships were consumed by the flames, blown to smithereens. The unfortunate ones who happened to be on the ships were… well, quite unfortunate.

A large, black feline creature with black-feathered wings soared above the Darkfang Docks, releasing potions from its space-type storage earring.

Valerian had transformed into his winged-panther form, his body sleek and darker than the night itself, providing him with the perfect cover.

It was the hour of dusk. The sky was the darkest shade of black, yet there were hues of orange and purple slowly emerging from the horizon.

Valerian looked toward the horizon of the Galestine Ocean, his topaz eyes narrowing.

Brother said that there would be ships arriving from the sea. Before they arrive, I must destroy Blackshore's fleet.

Hmph! I, the Great Valerian, will make my brother proud!

He flapped his wings, circling around the shoreline of the city before positioning himself high up in the air, right above the next ship.

Then, he dropped dozens of Potions of Explosions on the vessel. So many potions bursting all together at once caused a chain reaction, allowing the intensity of the explosion to compound.

Heh! Valerian smirked.

Explosions are nice!

…

Ember Heights.

Back inside the lavish two-story manor where the Magi of the Cult were residing, everyone was standing on the balcony, watching the ships exploding one after another with varied expressions.

The Cultists had indifferent expressions on their faces. Forget the fleet, they wouldn't even bother if the entirety of Blackshore burned to the ground.

After all, their objective was different from what the leaders of the thieves' guild believed.

The three leaders—Kissinger, Barnabas, and Wendell—had extremely dark expressions plastered on their faces.

The bald old man with an eye patch over his right eye, Barnabas Booth, roared in fury. "Those bastards of Ravenfell! How dare they!"

He stepped forward, about to leap in the direction of the docks and kill the one responsible for the explosions.

But right at that moment, a firm hand gripped his shoulder, preventing him from acting recklessly.

"What?!" Barnabas spat, his eyes spewing venom. "Let go, Kissinger! I'll deal with that flying beast this instant!"

Kissinger calmly shook his head. "It might very well be a trap."

"You…" the one-eyed Magus tried to retort but was unable to.

In the end, he snorted in immense displeasure and chose to remain standing in place with his arms crossed, and a very malevolent expression on his face.

Kissinger stepped forward, ordering the handful of Mana Liquefaction Magi from the Umbra Thieves standing below. "Go, take care of the beast."

The Rank 3 - Mana Vortex Magi on the balcony could sense that the flying beast had the strength equivalent to a Magus at the peak of Rank 1 - Mana Foundation Rank.

Yet, Kissinger chose to send five Rank 2 Magi after it because he believed it was very likely to be a trap.

"As you command, my lord!" The Magi of the thieves' guild respectfully nodded before rushing towards the dockside.

Wendell Cross looked at the dozen or so large ships that made up Blackshore's fleet burning in flames. He couldn't help but shake his head wryly, "Half the city burns, yet these ungrateful bastards do nothing to protect it."

Of course, he was talking about the Rank 1 and 2 Magi who lived in the city of Blackshore.

"A lawless city would only produce lawless residents, my lord," Malcolm said politely, however, his intended meaning was anything but polite.

"Did you truly expect them to prioritize the safety of the city before their own benefits?" He asked, a light smirk forming on his lips.

Inwardly, he mused to himself, As expected of the Brotherhood. This is exactly how they operate!

Wendell Cross gazed at the man with a dark expression. However, he didn't reply. This was not the time for quarreling.

Kissinger stepped forward, intently staring at Malcolm and the three other cultists. "My worst fear has come to pass. This city will now become a battleground. People will die."

He paused for a moment, his brows creasing together. "I need to know what your plan is—your true plan."

Malcolm gazed at the man with slight surprise. He couldn't prevent the smirk from widening on his lips. "Alright, Lord Kissinger, I shall be honest with you."

"Our first priority is not to help the Umbra Thieves, but to exterminate the forces of the Ravenfell no matter what it takes," he lied with a smile.

"Heh, as I thought." Kissinger snorted. "Then that still makes us allies at the end of the day, does it not? We do have a common enemy, after all."

"Indeed, my lord." Malcom's eyes narrowed, forming upside-down crescents.

He suddenly turned his head in the direction of the sea, his expression turning grave. "They are here."

"Yes." Kissinger nodded with a solemn expression. "Damned bastards of Ravenfell!"

He then looked at his fellow comrades, Wendell and Barnabas. "Alright, brothers. It is time to bathe in the blood of our enemies."

Barnabas grinned from ear to ear, cracking his knuckles. He stepped foot on the railing and was the first one to leap towards the dockside.

One by one, the leaders of the Umbra Thieves soared above the cityscape, leaping towards the Darkfang Docks.

Meanwhile, still on the balcony, the three members of the Cult of Bones gazed at Malcolm calmly standing with his hands behind his back.

"How should we proceed?" One of them asked.

"Have all our Rank 1 and Rank 2 Magi assist them," he commanded. He added after a moment, "Tell them to assist from behind and not join the front lines. Ravenfell has arrived with a decent amount of firepower, it seems."

At once, the order was given for the close-to-hundred Magi from the cult of Bones to help the Magi of the Umbra Thieves battle the armed forces of Ravenfell.

After the orders were relayed to the Rank 1 and 2 Magi of the Cult, Malcolm looked at his fellow Rank 3 Magi and nodded, "All of you disperse. Form a four-pronged net. Assist the Umbra Thieves in passing, but your first priority should be to locate Constantine."

The three Rank 3 Magi dispersed the following moment, leaving behind Malcolm standing on the balcony, gazing in the direction of the Galestine Ocean.

"The intel states that the Ravenfell forces consist of two hundred Magi, and half of them are the elite Magi of the Black Legion," Malcolm muttered under his breath with a confident smile. "But you only have three Rank 3 Magi."

His emerald eyes flashed with immense bloodlust and he added, "Whereas we have seven Rank 3 Magi leading an army of three hundred Rank 1 and 2 Magi… Not to mention an even bigger army of undead.

"Ravenfell... your doom is imminent!"