SUPREME ARCH-MAGUS

Jason Mama, head of the 9 Realms Association, narrowed his eyes as he stepped to the front of his troops. Beside him, Emperor Ryon Lionheart gritted his teeth, rage boiling just beneath the surface.

Madam Clark’s voice rang out, clear and mocking.

“Welcome, esteemed invaders, to this death island. I see you’ve come to add more bodies to the collection. How generous of you.”

Jason’s face darkened, his aura flaring as he stepped forward. “Enough games, Lady Clark. Your little show of defiance ends here. Surrender, and we might spare your miserable life.”

Clark threw her head back and laughed, the sound echoing eerily over the silent battlefield. “Spare me? Oh, Jason, you’ve always been a coward. Tell me, do you want to die?” She pointed her staff at the corpse mountain beneath her feet. “Care to join them?”

Ryon roared, his golden armor blazing as he summoned his bow. “We didn’t come here to banter with a madwoman! Soldiers, prepare to attack!”

Madam Clark smirked, raising her staff. “By all means, come. But remember this: those who walk into a lion’s den never leave alive.”

“Attack”

Jason snapped his fingers, and a volley of long-range spells—fireballs, ice lances, lightning bolts—streaked through the sky toward Madam Clark. The air hummed with power as the army’s full force bore down on her.

But with a single, lazy wave of her peacock-headed staff, the spells disintegrated into harmless motes of light before they even touched her.

The silence that followed was deafening, broken only by Madam Clark’s taunting chuckle.

“Was that it? I expected more from the mighty 9 Realms Association.” She tilted her head mockingly. “Perhaps I should be leading this army instead of you.”

Jason’s face flushed with anger, his pride stung. He turned to his troops and bellowed, “Advance! Bring her down!”

The army surged forward like a tidal wave, and Jason himself leaped into the air, his hands glowing as he unleashed a barrage of powerful spells. Fire and frost, wind and earth—all converged on Madam Clark with the force of a hurricane.

This time, the sheer intensity of the attack forced Lady Clark to raise her defenses. Layers of enchanted barriers, glowing talismans, and ancient treasures protected her from the relentless onslaught. Her expression grew serious as she began countering Jason’s spells, deflecting some while enduring others.

Jason smirked, sensing her struggle. “What’s wrong, Clark Sheep? Losing your mind?”

But Clark’s voice rang out defiantly. “I’ve only just begun.”

As the battle raged, Madam Clark’s movements grew more calculated. Despite the overwhelming force of Jason and the advancing army, she stood her ground. She is using all her strength to hold onto the

Then, when half the army had crossed onto the island, she raised her staff high into the air, its crystal glowing a deep, menacing red.

The ground beneath the soldiers trembled violently. From the edges of the island, hidden magical arrays activated, their symbols glowing ominously.

“What is this?” Jason shouted, sensing the sudden change. Your next chapter awaits on My Virtual Library Empire

Madam Clark’s voice cut through the chaos like a knife. “You fools thought you could march onto my island unscathed? Welcome to Hell domain!”

The first explosion ripped through the front lines, sending weaker wizards flying like ragdolls. Screams filled the air as traps activated in rapid succession—pits of fire, poisonous gas, razor-sharp spikes erupting from the ground.

The stronger wizards tried to counter the traps, but the sheer number and variety overwhelmed even them. Spells misfired, barriers shattered, and chaos spread like wildfire.

Slowly the army of sworn wizards surfaced, beginning the surprise assault.

Jason, still in the air, shouted orders to regroup, but his voice was drowned out by the cacophony of destruction.

Ryon, his face pale with shock, drew his bow and released arrows at an incoming spike of dark energy. “This is a trap! Get away.” he roared.

Lady Clark hovered above the chaos, her laughter ringing out like a death bell. “Did you really think you could walk into my territory without consequences? You’ll all die here, just like the last army.”

Jason’s face twisted with rage as he charged toward her, ignoring the carnage below. “I’ll kill you myself!”

Clark smirked, deflecting his attack with a barrier. “By all means, try. But know this, Jason: Your death is certain.”

–

Spirit World…

The Eternal Music Hall floated through the serene skies of the Spirit World, its harmonious aura a sharp contrast to the chaos that loomed ahead. Without warning, the massive structure came to a jolting halt, sending waves of unease rippling through its inhabitants.

The first to react were the companions and travelers who had taken refuge aboard the music Hall. They rushed out of their chambers, gathering on the open deck, their faces marked with concern and curiosity.

“What’s happening?” Jean asked in confusion.

Fatty stepped to the front, his bulky figure standing out among the crowd. “Why have we stopped?” he muttered, his tone uncharacteristically serious.

Moments later, the Storm Knight arrived in a blur, his armor gleaming with an electric aura. He rushed toward the deck, his face a mixture of urgency and tension.

“Everyone, remain calm!” he commanded, his voice cutting through the murmurs of the crowd. “There’s a danger ahead that we cannot ignore.”

Fatty’s eyes narrowed as he stepped forward, folding his arms. “What kind of danger are we talking about here? Be clear.”

The Storm Knight hesitated for a moment, as if weighing how much to reveal. Then he spoke, his voice grave.

“Ahead lies the Dark Sea, and from it is emanating a strange poison. This poison is spreading uncontrollably, corrupting everything in its path. All the Demi-Gods, including the War God, are already there, working tirelessly to contain it. But it’s unlike anything we’ve ever encountered before.”

A collective gasp spread through the crowd. People exchanged nervous glances, their earlier sense of safety now replaced with dread.

“What kind of poison could trouble the gods themselves?” Fatty asked, his tone skeptical yet tinged with worry. “Surely they can handle it?”

The Storm Knight’s expression darkened. “This is no ordinary poison. It’s believed to have originated from the Abyssal Mountain in the Dark Sea, from a being so ancient and vile that even the gods tread cautiously. The poison spreads without end, devouring land and life alike. If it’s not stopped soon…” He trailed off, the implications clear in his silence.

Fatty’s bravado faltered for a moment before he straightened up. “Then what do we do? Stand here and wait for it to reach us? We will run away as far as we can, right!”

The Storm Knight shook his head. “No. We need young master Kent’s opinion. He can only control the movement of this musical hall.”

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