Earth's Greatest Magus

I wait beneath a weeping sky,

Days fade like breath that passes by

Months kneel and whisper your name,

Years draw near, unchanged, the same

Binding my heart in endless pain.

“Emery… where are you?”

The question surfaced again and again, sometimes whispered into the emptiness of her chambers, sometimes echoing silently in her mind while she cultivated, trained, or simply stared at the artificial skies of the Sanctum.

Years of waiting, of loneliness, slowly converged into a single, unavoidable realization-what had been holding her back all this time was not talent, nor effort.

It was her Dao Heart.

Among cultivators, the Dao Heart was spoken of as something rare but far from unheard of, a manifestation of one’s deepest longing and emotional truth. When the heart received what it yearned for, it became a blessing capable of pushing a cultivator beyond their limits; but when denied, when that longing was met only with loss and silence, it twisted into something far more insidious.

A curse.

A slow corruption.

Klea refused to accept it.

Instead, she buried her heart beneath layers of denial and threw herself into relentless cultivation, hoping that exhaustion, pain, and progress would drown out what she refused to confront.

The Aero Thrones became her medicine and her punishment alike.

She challenged them again and again, enduring trials that shredded her body with cutting winds, crushed her spirit under invisible pressure, and left her cultivation foundation trembling on the edge of collapse. More than once, she was brought so close to death.

Yet she did.

She completed the trials.

She gained the legacy of the Garuda, protector of the skies.

She earned the reverence of the Sanctum elites and reclaimed her reputation as a genius.

And still, the Dao Heart remained unmoved.

No tribulation descended.

No sign came from the heavens.

In fact, the harder she resisted-forcing herself to cultivate, forcing herself to advance-the stronger the curse became, tightening around her spirit like invisible chains that mocked every breakthrough she thought she had earned. Fifteen years passed since Emery vanished.

Each day grew heavier than the last, until even effort became meaningless. Eventually, Klea spent months in near silence, sitting alone without the will to cultivate or train, doing nothing but waiting, waiting without hope.

This stagnation did not go unnoticed.

Elder Oberyn, who had placed immense expectations upon her, felt both concern and disappointment growing in equal measure. His commitment to Klea had never been purely altruistic; she was his greatest achievement, the jewel he had pulled from the lower realm mud.

For years, other Overseers praised his disciple, a prodigy who rose from a lower realm to challenge Nephilim elites.

Now, he feared that the jewel might crack.

Quietly, he investigated Emery’s fate through every channel available to him and came to a conclusion he did not wish to share-the chances of Emery returning were slim to none.

And so, reluctantly, another idea took shape.

If the Dao Heart could not be fulfilled, perhaps it could be soothed.

If reunion was impossible, perhaps replacement was necessary.

A companion. A bond strong enough to redirect her heart.

Using his status and Klea’s rising reputation, suitors soon appeared-Nephilim nobles, heirs of secondary clans, even elites of higher realms who believed her beauty and talent worth the risk. Klea rejected every one of them without hesitation, her refusal cold and absolute.

Some accepted it with wounded pride.

Others did not.

To be dismissed by a woman they considered inferior was an insult they carried openly, and soon her days within the Sanctum grew harsher. Training grounds became hostile. Encounters became provocations. Accidents became

intentional.

“It’s time to go home.”

The thought came without hesitation, quiet yet final. For the first time since entering the Nephilim Sanctum, Klea accepted what she had long refused to admit-no matter how far she climbed, no matter how much power she gained, the path to the Grand Magus realm would never open for her here.

Not like this.

Not while her heart remained unresolved.

If cultivation would not answer her longing, then she would stop chasing it.

She would return to Earth and spend the rest of her life waiting for Emery, even if that wait led nowhere.

However,

The moment she stepped beyond the Sanctum’s boundary and entered the outer Nephilim sector, an ambush was set.

Ishtar was waiting.

So was Hera-and with her, several former Kronos magus who had survived the

faction’s collapse, all of them carrying resentment sharpened into hatred. To them, Klea was the root of Kronos’s destruction.

They struck without warning.

But Klea was no longer the woman Hera remembered from the duel fifteen

years ago.

Lightning and wind answered her call in perfect harmony as she moved

through them like a storm given form. What once would have been a desperate battle ended in minutes. One by one, the attackers fell-some unconscious,

others broken beyond the will to fight.

Hera never stood a chance.

Yet even as Klea stood victorious, something felt wrong.

Hera had never been the true threat.

She was merely bait.

The real danger revealed itself, two Grand Magus assassins emerged at once-

each one prepared specifically to end her life.

This battle was different.

No matter how fiercely Klea fought, no matter how brilliantly she summoned her two Acons, the gap in the realm was merciless. Worse still, the Dao Heart restrained her at the worst possible moment, disrupting her rhythm, dulling her reactions, and weakening her resolve.

She was overwhelmed.

Bloodied, exhausted, and surrounded, Klea felt her strength slip away. As the final blow descended, she did not think of cultivation, nor power, nor fate.

She thought only of Emery.

And then-someone came.

A figure tore through the battlefield, scattering assassins with overwhelming force. Klea barely registered what was happening. Half-conscious, vision blurred, she mistook the silhouette before her for the man she had waited for

all her life.

Emery…

She lost consciousness in his arms.

When Klea awoke, she was no longer in the outer sector but safely within Ebiru

6, the homeworld of the Amarhikks. Only then did she learn the aftermath- Hera and the former Kronos magus had been executed, the Grand Magus assassins captured and imprisoned.

Only Ishtar had escaped, shielded by status and lineage.

Days later, the man who had saved her came to visit the Grand Overseer’s

estate.

He was young for a One Cosmos cultivator, his presence calm yet commanding. His brown hair and tall frame carried a faint resemblance to Emery, just enough to stir something painful in her chest, though she knew the similarity was only

her Dao Heart playing cruel tricks on her.

He arrived bearing gifts-treasures sealed in ornate containers, each worth fortunes beyond what most cultivators would see in a lifetime.

Then he introduced himself.

“I am Denard…. Denard Astiel. Crown Prince of the Astiel clan.”

The room fell silent.

The Grand Overseer’s expression shifted instantly. He knew better than anyone

the tension between the Astiel clan and the Earth faction, and Denard’s

presence here-of all places-made no sense.

“What do you want?” the Overseer demanded. “Why are you here? And these gifts-don’t tell me you intend-“

“I don’t,” Denard interrupted, his voice steady but strained. “I am not worthy to

stand as Lady Klea’s suitor. Not after what my family has done to her… and to

her faction.”

He turned to Klea then, meeting her gaze without avoidance or arrogance.

“I came to apologize,” he said. “For my cousin’s Ishtar actions. And to seek a path toward amends-between the Astiel clan and the Earth faction.”