Earth's Greatest Magus

Emery walked beside Gwen as she led him through the foundation, his attention drawn not just to her words, but to everything unfolding around them. What she described was not a simple act of charity, nor a superficial effort to gain influence within the city. The foundation addressed something far deeper-an entrenched problem that had taken root in Dawnstar for generations.

Poverty here did not merely weaken people; it broke them. And among all who suffered, children bore the heaviest burden. Many were abandoned, left to fend for themselves in a city that provided no mercy. Others were pulled into crime before they even understood what survival meant, molded into tools for those who thrived in the shadows. Some were traded and sold, their lives reduced to nothing more than currency.

Against that reality, the Terra Foundation stood as a counterforce.

Within its walls, the children were given more than food. They were given structure, education, and something unfamiliar to most of them-stability. For some, it became a permanent home, an orphanage where they could grow without fear. For others, it was a sanctuary they could return to, a place where survival did not come at the cost of their humanity.

As they moved deeper inside, Emery observed older youths assisting with daily operations. Some managed supplies, others helped maintain order, while a few stood guard alongside trained personnel. These were not outsiders-they were former recipients of the foundation’s care, now choosing to remain and give back.

It was a cycle.

Not temporary aid, but a system designed to sustain itself.

Gwen explained how the most promising among them were given opportunities beyond the foundation. Those with talent were carefully selected and sponsored, sent to places where they could develop further-Neo Terra, the Immortal Gladiator School, Red Lotus Hall, and perhaps, in time, even the Magus Academy. The foundation was not simply preserving lives; it was cultivating futures.

Its scale was already far greater than Emery had anticipated.

Across the three branches, more than ten thousand individuals had passed through its care. Gwen believed that within one or two decades, these very children would form the backbone of Dawnstar’s future-individuals shaped not by desperation, but by guidance.

As she spoke, she continued to move naturally among the people, occasionally stopping to distribute food or speak with the children. There was no distance between her and them. No barrier of status or power. She blended seamlessly into their world, her presence bringing a quiet sense of reassurance.

Watching her stirred something familiar within Emery.

A memory surfaced unbidden-of a young princess in Britannia, slipping away from her duties to walk among her people, offering help where she could, unnoticed and unacknowledged.

The same spirit remained.

But then his attention shifted.

Amid the soft golden strands of her hair, there were streaks of white.

This time, there was no illusion masking it.

No disguise.

He stopped.

Completely.

Klea understood at once. Without a word, she gave Emery a brief, knowing glance before stepping away, leaving the two of them alone in a pocket of stillness amid the bustling foundation.

For a few breaths, neither of them spoke.

Their eyes met, and Emery said

“…Everything you’ve built here is incredible”

His gaze lingered, steady and unflinching.

“But that’s not why I came… i am here to see about your condition.”

Before Gwen could respond, Emery stepped forward and gently took her wrist. His expression shifted into sharp focus as his spirit energy flowed into her body, moving through her veins with precision, probing every corner of her internal state.

He didn’t need long.

The answer revealed itself almost immediately-and it was exactly what he had

feared.

Nothing had changed.

Kayelin’s diagnosis remained painfully accurate. Gwen’s life essence had already been consumed to a dangerous extent, leaving her body fragile and unstable. What sustained her now was not recovery, but delay-life-enhancing pills that allowed her to function, to walk, to work… but only by prolonging

what should have already ended.

She was living on borrowed time.

Emery’s brows tightened, and when he finally withdrew his energy, his voice came out quieter than before.

“… You have a few years left.”

Gwen let out a slow breath, as if acknowledging something she had long

accepted.

Yet her smile did not fade.

“I think my life should have ended a long time ago,” she said, her tone steady, almost serene. “So every extra day I have now… feels like a blessing.”

The simplicity of her words struck deeper than any dramatic reaction could

have.

Emery felt it then-a dull ache settling in his chest, tightening with each passing

second.

Guilt followed close behind.

He had told himself he would find a solution, that he would personally search for a cure. Yet time had slipped away, consumed by things that never seemed to

end.

Emery’s expression hardened, resolve taking shape beneath the weight of his

thoughts.

“If our apothecaries can’t cure this,” he said, his voice firm now, “then someone else will… in a universe this vast, there has to be someone who can save you.”

He had already begun forming a plan. Kayelin’s expertise, while formidable, was rooted in a realm where most beings had long surpassed mortal limitations. What Gwen required was something different-knowledge grounded in the fragile mechanics of mortal life.

Without hesitation, Emery sent a request through VIA, seeking for specialists across countless worlds-apothecaries who understood life essence depletion, aging, and the narrow line between survival and collapse.

And if that path failed- then a force Ancesion will be the last resort.

Even if it meant breaking natural limits, he would find a way to elevate her into

the magus realm.

Gwen watched him quietly, her expression softening.

“I’d like to live longer too,” she admitted, her voice gentle. “But I hate for you to

waste resources on me..”

Her gaze drifted toward the foundation behind them.

“If you have more spirit stones to spare… I’d rather we build more aid centers.”

Emery frowned, the answer clearly not one he was willing to accept.

“That’s not how this works,” he said firmly. “I’ll give you whatever you need-but

only if you rest more and stop pushing yourself!”

Gwen blinked, then gave a light, almost playful smile.

“Of course, you are the boss.”

The casual response only deepened his frown.

He could tell she wasn’t taking his words seriously.

Emery brought up the earlier incident, emphasizing the danger posed by the

syndicate.

Gwen merely chuckled. “There’s nothing to worry about… they only test me. They don’t dare go any further.”

“I see…” Emery replied, his tone cautious. “I just hope our Lady Star Maiden doesn’t grow too confident.”

The title carried weight, rooted in Dawnstar’s history-a figure known for guiding and protecting the people through compassion.

Gwen laughed softly at his remark, then, without hesitation, slipped her arm

through his so casually.

“You need not worried about me…”

The shift in tone was immediate, lighter, almost teasing.

“So… how’s married life?” she asked, glancing at him from the side. “I heard you

left your wife not long after the wedding”

There was amusement in her eyes now. “That doesn’t sound like a very good husband.”

Emery stiffened slightly, before he could respond, she leaned in just a little,

lowering her voice with a playful edge.

“If you keep disappearing like that…” she murmured, “…when am I supposed to meet my future little niece and nephew?”