Magic Emperor 223 Novels & Stories

" His tone was cold and unquestionable. Emperor Aurelias' expression changed. He said coldly, "It seems like you are here to stand up for Heidi. I know that she resents me. But, do you think it's worth going up against me just for her?" Magaera was not bothered by his questions. He shouted, "Shut up and take this." Magaera had just acquired the power of the ancient cherub. He was extremely confident. Buzz! At that instant, divine power exploded from Magaera. He headed straight for Emperor Aurelias.

[Emmanuel - Level 12] HP- 109 DEF - 89 ATK-67 SPEED - 33 MANA - 980 Skills: None Examining Emmanuel's status, it became evident that he had no prior knowledge of magic before arriving in the city. Additionally, his mana circle appeared filled with impurities, resembling an unused car engine in need of maintenance. Despite this, Emmanuel possessed an exceptionally large mana pool, surpassing that of anyone I had encountered, save for individuals like Duchess Isla or the Headmaster of Brightwing Academy, Cleo.

"You promised you were the anchor." She pushed magic into him—gentle, healing warmth. But his body felt like a void. It absorbed the magic but didn't react. "Useless," a voice rasped. Saoirse spun around. The Emperor was pulling himself out of the wreckage of his throne. His exoskeleton was sparking, one leg dragging uselessly, but he was alive. And he was furious. He raised a gauntleted hand. A plasma cannon built into the arm whirred to life, glowing red.

He had to install hundreds of Javelin to be able to attack long range into the air. “Son, how many archers have experienced by our side?” asked the Emperor quietly. “Including me, there are about thirty,” replied Ezekiel. The Emperor slumped back against the throne. He was vexed and didn't know what to do. Thirty who used bow and arrow and some Javelin alone would not be enough to protect the capital. "Mages." As the Emperor, Ezekiel and everyone else was racking their brains, Heinrich suddenly came forward.

I could feel her hesitation in her voice. " We can argue later. Hit me on my head. " I said to her. " You can pretend. " She said. " He is Duante Rego, The Mafia Emperor. He will easily get this. " I heard footsteps increasing, " He's coming. Do it fast. Give both guns to Duante. You know the summary. " I said. She nodded and hit me with the back of the gun on my head. I felt hot red blood, dripping down. It got black all of a sudden as I hit the ground.

said Coralis. “He’s decent, I worked with him a few times,” said Sonylla. “For our District V, in the most central part of our territory, we have recruited a mage who has been loyal to us for decades, helped us train fierce warriors and has proven to be one of our greatest assets to help us navigate this war, despite being one of the Most Wanted Witch across the globe. Emery has joined our ranks as a sub-elder, and he will now be known as High Mage Emery,” said Ellya.

“The only person I know who could do that is…” Rex’s face flashed in my mind, and my chest tightened. “Who are you? Really?” Lucian tilted his head, the smirk returning. “Oh, sorry for not doing proper introductions,” he said, his tone mockingly polite. “I’m Lucian, former leader of the Eighth Tribe.” He said it with pride, his chest straightening slightly. “I’m a Magyc , Aqua and Terra, to be exact. Though I can tap into other cores if I focus.”

I felt a gentle pulse of magic brush against my skin. “Fascinating,” the archmage murmured. “Your soul is too strong for this vessel. It is like trying to pour an ocean into a cup. The world resists it, yet you remain stable. How?” “I refuse to break,” I said simply. Valerian chuckled. “Pride like that is dangerous. But useful.” Magnus crossed his arms. “Can you help him control it?” “I can try,” Valerian replied. “We will start with simple exercises. Learning to balance the flow. If we do not, the instability may grow. It could affect the palace itself one day.”

Debris and freezing wind, as well as an overwhelming, draconic pressure, crashed down from above. A tall figure descended. Golden hair, golden-slitted pupils, and scales faintly emerged across the figure’s body. His features were sharp, cold, and utterly inhuman. He was the Dragon Emperor. He stood amid the ruins, his gaze like a blade, locking directly onto the golden tail around my ankle. My brain was completely short-circuited. The next second, a small, golden figure shot up from the bed. The little guy transformed mid-air into his dragon form—a small, golden-scaled dragon—and blocked the opening.

I turn to look at the owner of the voice and my breath hitches. I am not sure if my concussed head is the reason, but I think I have never seen a being so ethereal in my life. Not even Clyde Basilisk looked like this in my eyes. The man’s height is similar to that of the Dragon Lord’s. His features are sharp and almost like that of the Dragon king’s and it is obvious to me that they are somehow related, but still, the strange attraction that I feel towards him, at first sight, is slightly concerning seemingly because I have never been this drawn towards someone. However, what draws my attention is the scar that runs from just above his left eyebrow and ends just below his left eye. The jagge