Earth's Greatest Magus

Despite the number of complications surrounding Dawnstar City, Emery never wavered in his decision.

This planet would become his foundation.

Given the timeline he was working under, Dawnstar represented the highest probability path toward his long-term objectives. Its political fractures, economic decay, and proximity to major Alliance routes made it uniquely vulnerable-and uniquely valuable. Even if his attempt at consolidation failed, establishing a base here would still allow him to closely observe, interfere with, and ultimately dismantle the secret society’s plans for the sector.

Dawnstar was not merely a gamble.

It was a convergence point.

“We need deeper information on the Moonlight Syndicates,” Emery uttered calmly. “Most of Red Dawn’s debt is most likely a fabricated leverage to keep the faction on leash.”

Over the following days, intelligence continued to flow in from multiple channels. Reports flowed in from the Red Lotus Hall, from Gwen’s quiet movements through the lower districts, and from Tessa’s careful probing of ruling clans. Yet despite the growing mountain of information, Emery found himself circling the same problem.

Red Lotus Hall alone was not enough.

He needed a second anchor-something permanent.

Then a long-awaited reply message arrived from a friend.

The moment Emery finished reading it, the direction of his plan crystallized.

“Let’s commit!!” he said decisively. “We buy another property and relocate our forces here.”

Tessa, after learning of Emery’s specific intent, found the move brilliant.

The property they secured occupied a wide tract of land within a valley on Dawnstar’s outer suburban ring. It was far from a simple residential estate. In fact, it was already a functioning enterprise, one deeply embedded in the city’s culture.

At its center stood a grand mansion, surrounded by extensive barracks capable of housing close to five hundred warriors. Solid stone walls enclosed the grounds, reinforced with aging yet dependable defensive arrays. Several well-maintained training fields-both open-air and enclosed-spread across the valley floor. From a distance, the complex resembled less a private estate and more a small fortress.

Because that was precisely what it was.

The property Emery had purchased was a gladiator school.

In many magus alliance cities, gladiator schools served a role similar to mercenary guilds, but with far greater influence. They did not simply employ fighters-they cultivated them. Talent was trained, tested, and refined for the arena.

Their operations were tightly intertwined with the city’s rhythm. Weekly arena matches drew massive crowds, vast betting pools, and the attention of every major faction. A successful gladiator school did not simply earn money-it shaped public sentiment.

Fame, wealth, and political attention all flowed through those arenas.

The school Emery selected had once been well known, its name spoken with respect. However, decades of decline had eroded its standing. Continuous losses and internal decay had tarnished its reputation, leaving behind valuable infrastructure without the influence to protect it.

That made it the perfect choice.

The acquisition alone was enough to propel Emery’s group into Dawnstar’s high-echelon social circles.

Gweeneth entered the newly acquired grounds first, her steps steady as dozens of eyes followed her. Emery and Tessa remained a short distance behind, deliberately out of focus, content to let her presence define the moment.

Tessa’s voice cut through the courtyard as she reviewed the data. “Ninety-one gladiator trainees. Forty-two active fighters, five supporting specialists, and one grand magus-rank mentor.”

The numbers suggested strength, but the reality told a different story.

These gladiators stood in disciplined rows, their physiques hardened by years of combat. Scars crossed arms and torsos, and weapons rested easily in their hands. Yet their auras were muted. Their eyes held caution rather than hunger. Repeated defeats had eroded their confidence, grinding away the edge that once made them feared in the arena.

They looked like survivors-not contenders.

A bald, dark-skinned man stepped forward from the ranks, his presence commanding silence. His aura bore the unmistakable weight of a grand magus.

“Oeno,” he said, inclining his head. “Former arena champion. Current mentor of this school.”

From his sleeve, he produced a ceremonial whip and extended it toward Gwen. The symbol of authority passed smoothly into her grasp, marking her as the new Lanista. The motion was correct, ritualistic-yet hollow. The watching gladiators offered no cheers, no acknowledgment.

It was clear none of them intended to follow her willingly.

Emery felt no concern.

This response had been anticipated. Gwen’s role was never to command their loyalty-only to occupy the visible seat of power while he remained concealed. The gladiators, their mentor, and even the school’s current weakness were all part of a necessary façade.

In time, the empty barracks would be filled. Warriors from Terra would arrive under the pretense of training and contracts, followed by carefully selected local recruits. The school would provide a legitimate reason to gather armed forces within Dawnstar without provoking any scrutiny.

Gwen raised her voice, allowing it to carry across the stone courtyard. “From this moment onward,” she declared, “this school will be known as the Immortal Gladiator School.”

It did not take long for rumors to spread through Dawnstar. The emergence of the Immortal Gladiator School, coupled with the sudden rise of the Red Lotus Hall, stirred some interest among the city’s factions. Whispers traveled faster than official reports, passing through guild halls, noble estates, and shadowed meeting rooms.

“That new Immortal Gladiator School… It’s closely tied to the Red Lotus Hall.”

“Who owns it? A known faction?”

“Which of the three clans are they backing?”

Speculation turned into investigation.

Among those watching most closely was the Midnight Brotherhood. Their interest sharpened when they confirmed that one of their previous prisoners- the succubus Nix-had been seen openly within the Red Lotus Hall.

They dispatched a probing force.

Several magus were sent, led by one of their grand magus elder. Their intent was not confrontation, but assessment. That caution saved their lives. Before they could press deeper, they encountered a presence that froze their advance. A mysterious old man stood watch-his aura calm, ancient, and immeasurably deep. Three cosmos grand magus. A protector whose existence alone invalidated any reckless action.

Soltz.

The message spread quickly through both the ruling factions and the underworld.

Do not provoke the Red Lotus Hall. Do not test the Immortal Gladiator School. Aggression gave way to observation. Surveillance replaced intimidation. With Soltz installed as the permanent resident guardian of the Red Lotus Hall,

Emery no longer needed to appear in public. He directed both enterprises from the shadows, adjusting personnel, finances, and expansion plans with meticulous precision.

Tessa, however, remained tense. Managing the upkeep of two major operations simultaneously strained their resources and attention.

“They’ll start generating profit soon enough,” Emery told her calmly.

Renovations at the gladiator school concluded soon after. A freshly carved wooden sign was mounted above the gates:

IMMORTAL GLADIATOR SCHOOL

The timing could not have been better.

That same day, a long-awaited arrival passed through the gates.

A warrior freshly returned from the frontlines, his presence heavier than before, his aura refined by battle. When he saw Emery, a wide grin spread across his face.

His muscular arm reached out, clasping Emery’s in a firm warrior’s grip. “Brother,” he said, voice filled with warmth and steel. “You finally made it here.”

The man was Thrax.

Once a gladiator. Now a decorated warrior.