SUPREME ARCH-MAGUS

6th Realm… Devil Mountain…

In the depths of the Sixth Realm, within the eerie yet tranquil Mountain Devil Forest, Kent stood alone. The towering trees surrounded him, their twisted branches stretching like skeletal fingers.

Kent had abandoned all luxuries, discarding the divine armors and weapons bestowed upon him. He stored everything away in the hands of Eternal Music hall spirit.

He stood in simple garments woven from tree threads, his bare chest exposed to the chilling mountain breeze. The man who once wielded legendary treasures now sought something far greater—a connection to an entity beyond the grasp of even the highest gods.

He already left the Eternal Music hall. At present the Eternal Music Hall floated near 6th realm Jean family castle.

Before leaving the castle Kent met the musical hall spirit, a translucent being wrapped in celestial mist, and solemnly handed over the complete control of the palace.

“I leave the Eternal Music Hall in your hands,” Kent said firmly. “Until I return, do not let anyone disturb this place.”

The Hall Spirit bowed. “As you command, Dragon Lord.”

At present Kent is ready, all alone before the Devil Mountain. Finally, a golden rift split the sky above him. The mighty War God descended in a blaze of sacred fire. The ground trembled under his weight as he stepped forward, his eyes burning with divine intensity.

In his hands, the war god carried a golden plate stacked with sacred tantric scripts written on shimmering leaves, bound together by yantric threads pulsating with divine energy.

“These scripts are the key to summoning the Three-Phased Old God. Follow them exactly, Kent. Any mistake, and the consequences will be beyond even my power to correct.” The War God spoke, his voice echoing through the valley.

Kent took the plate with steady hands and gazed at the golden leaves. Each inscription radiated ancient energy, almost whispering their own incantations into his ears.

“I understand,” Kent replied. “Thank you, War God.”

The deity turned to leave but Kent stopped him with a quick call. “War God, before you go… I need to know one thing.” Kent asked with a hesitating look.

“What is it?” War god asked in a questioning tone.

“What lies at the core of Devil Mountain? Even with my strength, I couldn’t able to reach it.”

The War God exhaled, his expression turning grim. “There lies the tomb of an ancient being. One whose origins remain unknown, even to us gods. I reached the core once… but I could not touch the tomb.”

Kent’s fingers tightened around the golden plate. “A dead being even more powerful than you?”

The War God nodded. “Powerful enough that its curse lingers even now.”

Kent wanted to ask more, but the War God raised a hand. “Focus on your task, Kent. The ritual has a strict deadline of thirty-three days. Do not fail. Don’t spoil your thoughts with the Devil Mountains secret.”

With those final words, the War God vanished in a burst of golden flames, leaving Kent alone once more.

Without wasting a moment, Kent walked deeper into the Devil Mountain Forest. The deeper he ventured, the thicker the air became, as if the very essence of the mountain was resisting his presence. His fingers curled into fists, and he summoned his Nirvanic Flames.

Focusing his energy, he struck a massive boulder, shattering it into large fragments. His eyes scanned the debris until he found a piece fitting his needs. Channeling his flames, he molded the stone into the shape of an eight-armed deity, as dictated in the scriptures.

Sweat dripped down his forehead as he worked tirelessly. He carved intricate symbols into the idol’s chest, embedding yantric spells that would serve as the foundation of the summoning ritual.

Next, he gathered sacred herbs from the mountain—Brahma Lotus, Astral Vines, and Celestial Mandrake—each placed at the statue’s feet.

Finally, Kent stood before his creation. His fingers traced the glowing inscriptions, feeling the power thrumming within. The air crackled with energy, a silent acknowledgment from the universe that his preparations were correct.

Stepping back, Kent took a deep breath and assumed his stance. Lifting his right leg, he balanced on his left toes and pressed his palms together in a praying gesture. His mind emptied, merging with the forces around him.

The golden leaves from the War God hovered in the air, turning one by one as the tantric scripts began their silent recitations.

The ritual had begun.

As Kent submerged himself in his meditation, the world outside continued its course.

Days turned like flipping pages and the momentum of war reached new heights on the 9 realms.

The news of the impending demon invasion had spread like wildfire across all Nine Realms households. Panic and fear were soon replaced by a burning determination.

From cities to villages, people raised their banners. Wizards, warriors, and even commoners volunteered to join the fight, driven by a singular cause—protecting their homeland.

The chants reverberated through streets, palaces, and battle camps. Noble families who once remained neutral now sent their private forces, offering wealth and soldiers to aid the cause.

Madam Clark, the mastermind behind the new government, oversaw the formation of the largest army the Nine Realms had ever seen. From her command center in the Seventh Realm, she worked tirelessly to ensure every soldier had weapons, armor, and provisions.

“Appoint new generals,” she commanded. “We need leaders who can manage this army efficiently.”

Messengers ran across the palace, carrying orders. New commanders were selected, powerful figures capable of guiding the massive army to victory.

As the preparations continued, unseen eyes watched.

In the distance, hidden from mortal view, the spies of the Space God observed in silence. They noted every detail—every movement, every strategy—but there was one thing they never discovered: Kent’s true plan.

They reported back to their master, believing the armies were gathering purely for defense.

–

9 days later…

In the Spirit World, Phillip, the Demon Lord, sat on his throne of bones, his fingers tapping against the armrest. He listened intently as the Space God’s messenger relayed the news.

“A mere twenty million?” Phillip scoffed. “They think they can stand against my sixty-nine million?”

The demons around him erupted in laughter, their monstrous forms shuddering with glee. But Phillip was not yet satisfied. He leaned forward, eyes narrowing. “Send shapeshifters to infiltrate the lower realms. I want to know every detail of their plans.”

The messenger bowed and vanished into the shadows.

As the torches flickered with eerie blue flames, Phillip grinned. “Soon, Kent… soon.”

“Hahaha…”

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