As one of the oldest spellcasters in the Magus World, Nergal had witnessed nearly the entire rise of the Magus Civilization from a medium-sized world to a top-tier power.

He was the kind of old monster who only grew more dangerous with age.

When he felt a faint but powerful presence lock onto him, Nergal did not panic. Instead, he let out a hoarse chuckle.

“Hehehehe... someone’s got their eyes on me. I wonder who it is?”

“This doesn’t feel like one of the Gallant Federation’s giant mobile suits... and it’s definitely not one of those useless overlords under their command,” he murmured.

“Hmm... Darkness and death, huh? The Amenkha Empire?” He let out another chuckle. “That works just fine for me. Under normal circumstances, I would’ve taken my time and played with you. But right now...”

His laughter abruptly cut off as a fit of coughing seized him.

Dark, viscous blood formed from elementalized energy seeped from the corner of his mouth.

This was the same apocalyptical weapon that had destroyed a Rank Seven Norman Federation android in a single shot.

Even with complete confidence in his own strength, taking a direct hit from the Infinity Light had left him in no condition to face another overlord of equal standing.

Black mages did not believe in head-on fights. If the odds were against them, they would simply leave.

Nergal had survived countless battles over the ages.

Just because a Rank Eight Pharaoh of the Amenkha Empire had locked onto him did not mean he was a sitting duck.

“Ugh... what a pain... Good thing I made a breakthrough with Puppet Reincarnation not long ago and prepared a vessel back then... I never thought I’d need it so soon,” Nergal muttered.

“I wonder how long I can keep him fooled. Either way, I need to get out of here first. Shaking him off completely is unlikely. I’ll need someone to lend a hand...”

He paused, getting his bearings.

“Behind enemy lines in the Gallant Federation... Looks like I have no choice but to go find him.”

With that, a cold, eerie laugh echoed through space. Nergal’s battered form dissolved into a murky, shifting cloud of law, which then streaked off into the distant starry sky.

At that moment, the starry sky around Nergal had been swept clean by the terrifying power of the Infinity Light. Only a few lingering anomalies and chaotic elemental storms remained.

Nergal left behind no obvious traces. This cunning Rank Eight black mage was a master of concealment.

As he departed the storm-ravaged region, he casually tossed out a scarecrow.

It had been crafted from the remains of an overlord—most likely a dendro elemental being, judging by the composition.

An obscure, mystical energy pulsed through it, carrying a strong, unmistakable aura unique to Nergal.

The moment he discarded it, the scarecrow shot off in the opposite direction of Nergal’s escape and vanished.

This was the Puppet Reincarnation.

For lifeforms below Rank Seven, this technique could indeed achieve something close to true “reincarnation”.

But for a Rank Eight like Nergal, it served a different purpose. Its function was to mimic his aura and life trajectory, throwing the Seventh Pharaoh of the Amenkha Empire off track.

This technique, layered with occult knowledge and ancient magus incantations, was commonly used by the magi—the oldest spellcasters in Magus World.

Beyond being a black mage, Nergal was also one of the two oldest surviving Rank Eight magi in Magus World.

***

While Nergal played hide-and-seek with the Seventh Pharaoh of the Amenkha Empire, events were unfolding on the battlefields between the Magus Civilization and the Gallant Federation.

First, the Amenkha Empire’s legions, led by the Tenth Pharaoh, were finally detected. The sheer scale of their energy fluctuations could no longer be concealed.

How to respond to such a powerful force from a foreign star domain quickly became the Magus Civilization’s top priority.

Given the Amenkha Empire’s strength, it was entirely possible that a new main battlefield would emerge in the star domains surrounding the Morpheus Asteroid Belt.

After more than a thousand years of steady advances, the Magus Civilization’s legions were finally facing another major turning point since the end of the Netherworld Star Domain War.

The forces that had pushed deep into the Gallant Federation would need to be pulled back, at least in part, to serve as reserves.

At the same time, some of the garrison forces stationed in Magus World would have to be redeployed. Tapping into greater war potential had become a necessity.

Beyond the threat gathering around the Morpheus Asteroid Belt, the distant war in the Grand Cosmic World was also drawing the Magus Civilization’s full attention.

The Amenkha Empire had vowed to reclaim full control of the Grand Cosmic World, but the Magus Civilization was clearly not about to give it up so easily.

Because of the vast distance, reinforcements and direct support from Magus World could not arrive anytime soon.

With the war already underway, Bev and the others had little influence over how things would unfold there. They could only rely on the overlords stationed on that battlefield to act on their own judgment.

Fortunately, a Fire Phoenix who had recently advanced to Rank Eight had been dispatched there not long ago, and the Magus Civilization had always maintained a strong military presence in that region.

For now, things should hold.

Bev was currently at the main base along the border of the Netherworld Star Domain. Just as she was about to end her call with the king of the Grand Cosmic World, a strange surge of energy interference caused his projection to flicker and fade.

“That’s—” The Cosmic King’s image froze mid-motion, his final expression one of unmistakable terror.

Though he was a seasoned Rank Eight overlord, he lacked Bev’s composure in the face of sudden danger.

“Oh? An overlord of the Amenkha Empire is launching a long-range assault here? It seems killing the Eighth Pharaoh really did anger them.”

Bev let out a quiet sigh and rose to her feet.

As the leader of a civilization, she did not always have the luxury of choice. When her father had entrusted her with this burden, her path had already been decided.

This was the path of the Magus Civilization—one of constant expansion. No retreat. No compromise. No fear, even in the face of enemies far stronger than themselves.

The Eighth Pharaoh of the Amenkha Empire had once stirred chaos within the Magus Civilization, inciting the Evileye Tyrant Monarch’s rebellion.

That chain of events had left the Ice Phoenix gravely wounded and cost the Magus Civilization dearly in the early stages of the Grand Eye Demon World War.

On the surface, it had seemed like the work of the Evileye Tyrant Monarch and the Gallant Federation. In truth, the Amenkha Empire had been the force behind it all.

Since the Eighth Pharaoh had chosen to provoke them, he had only himself to blame when Bev and her allies set a trap, captured him, and killed him.

Before and after his death, neither Bev nor the Magus World’s high command felt any regret—despite knowing their action would provoke the far more powerful Amenkha Empire.

“I’ve been waiting for you all. You’re later than I expected though.”

Bev idly spun the silver ring on her finger. Wearing the Radiant Necklace and gripping her staff, she flew out of the fortress base.

A sphere of soft, lawful white light floated after her into the starry void.