Earth's Greatest Magus Chapter 2739: Sword Master

Ery was startled to find that his old ntor, Master Atika, had beco one of the leading instructors of the Twin Halls. It was a decision made after Lucius Corvin had been recalled to the frontline, leaving the top half-blood hall vulnerable. The insectoid clans could not spare their strongest grand magus to replace him for the sa reason, so Klea, working with Shinta and summoned Atika—a leading figure of the Ouroboros faction—to take the post.

Even with her presence and guidance over the past decade, however, the Twin Halls had yet to reclaim their place among the top ten ranked halls of the academy. The fact puzzled Ery, but Grand Magus Atika show no interest to discuss about the academy politics and began to probe Ery’s strength instead.

"I see you have improved greatly, Ery."

Feeling a nostalgic excitent, Ery could not help but ask her for guidance once more. Atika’s expression softened, and instead of offering words, she proposed sothing more fitting for their surroundings.

The announcent spread quickly across the training grounds. The acolytes of both Halls— a hundred of them—were thrilled to learn that their master and the visiting old master would hold a match. What they did not expect, however, was to be part of it.

Atika called all the acolytes to assemble in the arena, each ard with identical practice swords. Ery, standing on the opposite side, responded with a faint smile. He raised his hand, and portals shimred open behind him.

"Kuang! Kuang! Chwiik! Chiwikk!"

From the rifts erged a hundred figures—young orcs and chizpurs, sturdy and spirited, each below the magus realm but well-trained. Ery handed them the sa academy swords, giving them a chance to match the acolytes on even ground.

Kat stepped forward to explain the rules. It was a sword-only match—no spells, no external abilities. Both Master Atika and Ery would join the battle, but not directly; they could only instruct and guide their forces through command and formation.

"Let the match begin!" Kat declared.

The clash began at once. The acolytes swiftly arranged themselves into disciplined units—groups of five, each led by a senior third-year student. These small units combined to form larger formations, their movents synchronized into an organized structure. A dense aura began to radiate from them, the energy of grounded stability.

"These are the Five Hill and Mountain Formations," Atika explains.

On Ery side, the orcs and chizpurs stood ready, waiting only for his command. But he offered them no formation, no instruction—only a simple order.

"Attack."

The orcs roared, their voices echoing through the arena as they charged. The chizpurs, smaller but far sturdier, rushed ahead as the vanguard, their bodies slamming into the acolyte lines with thunderous force.

BAM!

The first collision shook the defensive lines, but the acolytes held firm. Their formations flexed but did not break, redirecting the montum and stabilizing within monts. From above and to the flanks, orcs leapt into the fray, attacking from multiple sides.

Seeing their lines pressured, one of the acolyte leaders shouted for a formation shift. Instantly, the rows contracted and overlapped into a layered defense.

"A turtle like formation," Ery noted, his eyes glinting.

Despite their youth, his orcs and chizpurs fought with relentless vigor. They had been trained within his domain—hardened by discipline. Yet even so, they struggled against the structured unity of the acolytes.

Soon enough, Ery realized that the Five Hills and Mountains Formation was not rely a defensive technique—it was a rotating formation capable of seamlessly shifting from defense to offense. The acolytes’ unity and rhythm were remarkable; each line of defense rolled like a living tide. Whenever the orcs pressed too hard, the formation pivoted, closing around them like a trap.

Several of the young orcs, driven by their natural ferocity, stepped in too aggressively. Within monts, they found themselves surrounded by interlocking sword arcs. Dozens of shimring blades struck from all directions, overwhelming them. One by one, they were disard, subdued, and pulled out of the match.

"Impressive," Ery murmured under his breath.

Recognizing the finesse of the acolytes’ formation, Ery decided it was ti to take the contest seriously. His eyes glowed faintly as his divine sense expanded outward, touching the minds of every orc and chizpur on his side. Within seconds, the chaotic groups began to reorganize under his ntal guidance.

"Reform," his calm voice echoed across their thoughts.

The orcs gathered in disciplined clusters of thirty-two, while the chizpurs mirrored their structure on the opposite flank. The rest—those too exhausted or injured—fell back to recover. The battlefield shifted once again, order rising from chaos.

This ti, the change was imdiate. With fewer numbers, Ery’s side grew stronger, their movents sharper and synchronized. The two clusters—orc and chizpur—moved in unison, weaving through the field in symtrical precision.

It was the Hexagram Sword Formation.

The orcs embodied the Sky Arrays, their swords blazing with the fierce montum of storm and thunder. The chizpurs took the Mountain Arrays, their strikes grounded and steady, like shifting stone. Together, they ford two interlocking symbols of balance.

The clash intensified. Despite being outnumbered, Ery’s side began to regain ground. The orcs and chizpurs fought as one, and Ery’s continuous rotation of the exhausted with the recovered fighters kept their montum alive. Slowly, they began to push the acolyte lines back.

Atika’s serpent eyes glimred with quiet approval. "Very good," Then her own aura flared.

Her divine sense descended upon the arena like a gentle, enveloping tide. The acolytes instantly adjusted, their breathing synchronized, movents refined. She guided them with surgical precision, their formation tightening and rotating in perfect rhythm. Defense thickened; strikes sharpened.

This was the true form of the Five Hills and Mountains Formation.

Ery could sense the overwhelming Earth Domain radiating from its structure. Such a formation allowed these hundred acolytes to stand their ground—even against multiple magus-level opponents.

Within monts, the montum swung back in their favor, forcing Ery’s troops to falter.

But Ery was far from done.

He exhaled slowly, letting his soul strength surge to its fullest. His presence blanketed the entire field; each of his warriors beca a vessel of his intent. Through their swords, his will flowed like a living current.

The air trembled.

From the Sky Arrays, radiant sword energy erupted—imbued with the Laws of Ice, Lightning, Wind, and Fire. Brilliant streaks of elental force danced across their blades, carving arcs of light through the air. anwhile, the Mountain Arrays pulsed with the Laws of tal, Earth, Water, and Plant. Their movents grew heavier, denser, more grounded—like nature itself had awakened within their stance.

Eight elents surged in perfect harmony, intertwining through Heaven and Earth to form the second layer of Ery’s sword formation.

Atika’s eyes glead. She could feel the balance in his control—the elegance in the fusion of raw instinct and refined order. To instruct non-human such complex formations was no small feat—but to bring them into elental alignnt was sothing far greater.

In the end, it was the orcs’ indomitable strength and the chizpurs’ unwavering defense that beca the deciding factor and the match concluded with the acolytes utterly exhausted.

"Alright, that’s a good training session"

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