Earth's Greatest Magus - Chapter 2765

Chapter 2765: Machinist Tomb 6
The hall ahead split into three separate tunnels, each marked by ancient runic engravings that shimmered faintly in the dim light. Armory. Workshop. Vault. The words alone carried weight—each path promising treasures, or perhaps, death.

The magus halted, wary of what lay ahead.

“Could these paths lead to more traps?” Poseidon muttered.

Dravic’s eyes gleamed with greed, though he forced himself to remain cautious. He turned toward his formation master. The man bowed slightly and said, “I believe we have already stopped the tomb’s main guardians, but… it would be wise to remain alert.”

Julian folded his arms, thinking for a moment before speaking. “Then we stay together and explore each path one by one. It’s the safest option.”

His tone was reasonable, but Dravic let out a derisive snort. “And waste time crawling through this place?” His voice carried a sneer. “There must be countless treasures ahead. I won’t spend days here for your caution.”

The tension flared once again. In the end It was decided that each path would be explored simultaneously, led by each one of the two-cosmos magus.

Julian had expected Dravic, being a blacksmith, to claim the Workshop path—the very place where Randhall had forged his legendary creations. The room where every blueprint, every secret technique might lie. But instead, Dravic surprised him by choosing the Vault. He even brought along his master formation expert, leaving the workshop to Vashka.

To the Armory path, Dravic assigned his last Grand Magus, Gudkov the cannon user, along with their magus firing squads.

Julian quickly made his own arrangements. He sent Casiel the Seraph toward the Armory path, supported by Athena and Hephaestus.

He then turned to Emery. Being the strongest after Casiel, he asked him to accompany the mysterious female Grand Magus, giving him the choice to bring either Poseidon or Athar along.

Emery didn’t need anyone’s assistance. His concern lay more with Julian, who would have to face Dravic and the Volkov formation master alone. Yet before he could answer, Athar—the merchant grand magus—volunteered. “I’ll join you,” he said with an easy smile. “I have some concerns about that woman, Vashka.”

Julian nodded but added with a subtle smirk, “In that case, allow me one request.” He turned to Vic and said, “What about him joining my group instead? His expertise might prove useful.”

Emery sighed softly. He felt responsible for keeping Vic safe—if not for the young man’s sake, then to avoid the wrath of his daughter. Still, he let Vic decide for himself.

The youth straightened his back and looked at Emery with determination. “No, I’ll stay with you, sir. I promised your daughter I’d keep you safe.”

“…”

Emery blinked, momentarily speechless. He wasn’t sure whether to laugh or scold him.

With that, the three groups were formed.

Three paths. Three leaders. Three fates awaiting discovery.

Emery’s team turned out to be the smallest—Lady Vashka with three Volkov specialists, Athar, Annara, and Vic. They were also joined by two silver golems controlled by the female Grand Magus.

From the very start, Emery could sense layers of schemes brewing between both factions. The Volkovs were clearly preparing something—but knowing Julian’s nature, he likely had plans of his own. Either way, Emery had his own precautions in place.

He cast one last glance toward Julian’s group before turning to follow Vashka into the shadows ahead.

The Workshop path sloped downward, its air thick with age and dust. Every step echoed like a whisper of the past. Strange runes pulsed faintly along the walls—ancient power woven into the stone itself.

Vashka led impatiently, her cosmic aura flaring every time they encountered a trap. A deep rumble echoed beneath their feet, and suddenly rows of arcane ballistae emerged from the stone, launching bolts wreathed in elemental fire. The air blazed with streaks of blue flame. With a flick of her hand, Vashka summoned two of her silver golems, their massive frames clanging as they stepped forward to shield the group. The first bolts struck the constructs’ chests, scorching their surface but leaving them standing firm.

“Annoying relics!” she snapped, tearing through barriers with raw force instead of finesse.

“Maybe we should slow down,” Vic muttered nervously.

“I don’t need advice from a boy,” Vashka cut him off coldly.

The next trap was worse. A gravity field surged across the corridor, twisting the space into an invisible vortex that threatened to crush them flat. Vashka commanding her golems to brace the tunnel walls, their limbs creaking under pressure as the magic tried to implode the passage. She slammed her palms together, conjuring a burst of shimmering sigil and shattered the distortion with a pulse of raw energy.

Emery continued to watch the power of the two Cosmos Grand Magus, observing with quiet curiosity.

After nearly an hour of descending corridors and collapsing stairways, they reached their destination—a vast chamber sealed by a bronze gate. The metal door had long corroded, its once-grand engravings dulled with time. With a single gesture from Vashka, it shattered open.

Inside lay Randhal’s workshop.

Half of the chamber resembled a blacksmith’s forge, with towering furnaces, racks of unfinished weapons, and tools made from rare ores. The other half… was something else entirely. Machinery—cold, precise, and unlike any magus craft Emery had ever seen. Golem frames and mechanical parts lay scattered like bones of forgotten giants.

Dust thickened the air. Centuries had passed since anyone stepped here.

They spread out cautiously. The group found remnants of tier-seven metals, scraps of constructs, and fragments of artifacts—but nothing whole, nothing functional.

Vashka’s temper grew visible. Her eyes darted across the walls, searching for something. “Where is it…?” she hissed, tearing open shelves and smashing old containers.

Along the way, Athar shared what he knew about Lady Vashka. The female artificer was infamous across the Magus Alliance for her craft in puppet creation—living constructs and artifact-bound servants. Unlike most artificers who focused on weapons or armor, Vashka specialized in merging life essence with mechanical art.

Athar suspected that her true reason for coming here wasn’t treasure—it was knowledge. “Randhall’s legacy,” he explained quietly, “Astral Link—a technique that allowed him to command dozens of grand magus-level constructs at once. If the records here contain that secret, it would make her unstoppable.”

That theory proved true when they reached the workshop. Vashka immediately began rummaging through the room, scanning shelves and tearing through ancient scrolls, her impatience growing by the second.

But once again, it was Vic who came to the rescue.

“There’s another room… its right behind this wall,” he said suddenly, pointing at a section of smooth stone near the far end of the chamber.

Even Emery was taken aback—his divine sense detected nothing. Annara, who had been using her familiars and sound resonance technique to probe the area, frowned in disbelief.

Vic ignored their confusion. He placed his palm against the wall and began tracing a pattern, following invisible lines only he seemed to see. A few moments later, a faint click echoed, and the stone surface split apart—revealing a hidden passageway shrouded in dust and golden light.

Annara blinked, muttering under her breath as he glance at Emery with a smirk, “I’m starting to lose track of who the main character in this story is.”