Earth's Greatest Magus

There were nine districts spread across Dawnstar City.

In its golden age, the city had once been celebrated as one of the jewels of Sector Thirteen.

Districts One and Two were famed for their grand markets, elegant avenues, theaters, gambling halls, and entertainment quarters where money flowed day and night. Districts Three through Five formed the industrial heart of the city, filled with factories, refineries, workshops, and transport depots that kept trade moving across the sector.

The outer districts—Six through Nine—each had their own importance. Some specialized in farming, others in livestock, mining, quarrying, or heavy resource processing. Together they formed a complete economic machine.

During those years, Dawnstar thrived.

There were still class divides as in any great city, but most citizens could work, eat, and live with dignity. Goods moved. Wages circulated. Streets were maintained. Opportunity still existed.

Then came decline.

Years of infighting among ruling factions hollowed out the city from within. Officials sold authority for profit. Criminal syndicates embedded themselves into trade routes, policing, and labor markets. Taxes rose while services collapsed. Honest merchants fled. Factories shut down. Farms were abandoned. Mines fell under gang control.

One by one, districts began to rot.

By the present day, nearly half of Dawnstar had become sprawling slums ruled more by gangs and hidden powers than by law. Violence became common. Disappearances became normal. Those with wealth gradually migrated elsewhere, leaving behind only the desperate—or those profiting from the decay.

On this particular day, unrest erupted in what had once been one of the city’s proudest neighborhoods.

District Two.

Hundreds of people had gathered outside an enormous private mansion built behind black iron walls and ornate stone gates. Their voices shook the avenue as they shouted accusations of injustice, kidnapping, corruption, and murder.

Many in the crowd came from lower districts. Their clothes were rough, their faces hardened by hardship, and their anger had clearly simmered for years.

Between them and the estate stood dozens of local enforcers, alongside heavily armed private guards loyal to the mansion’s owner. Batons, shields, formation rifles, and suppression devices had already been drawn.

One spark would turn the avenue into a battlefield.

###

Inside the mansion, on the second floor, luxury remained untouched by the chaos outside.

A long dining hall glittered with crystal lamps and polished silverware. Tables overflowed with exotic meats, fruits, imported wine, and delicacies rare even in upper districts.

Several men were in the middle of a feast.

At the tall front window stood Lord Carpus, master of the estate. He was broad, expensively dressed, and wore the practiced arrogance of a man long accustomed to buying solutions. Holding a plate in one hand, he stared down at the mob outside with open disgust.

“These maggots,” he muttered. “All they know how to do is complain.”

He turned sharply toward a gray-haired middle-aged man in a fitted vest.

“How did this become so messy?”

The man bowed at once.

“My apologies, my lord. There has been a recent shift of power in the city. One of our last deliveries became entangled in an incident.”

Lord Carpus clicked his tongue.

“So annoying.”

Another voice joined in.

A fat man in an expensive suit leaned back in his chair, swirling wine in a crystal glass. He wore the smug ease of someone who survived by attaching himself to power.

“Relax,” he said casually. “This is why you pay me. I may not recover your product, but no report will reach the Alliance.”

He glanced through the window at the protest.

“And as for this riot, it will be gone within the hour. Trust me.”

The speaker was none other than the Mayor of District Two.

Despite the mayor’s confident assurance, Lord Carpus was far from convinced.

He was not merely a wealthy noble hiding behind guards and influence. Carpus was one of the hidden members of the Moonlight Syndicate, which meant he understood how much the balance of power in Dawnstar had shifted over the last several years.

Since the rise of a certain new faction, too many things that were once stable had begun to unravel.

Smuggling routes had been disrupted.

Profits still existed, but certainty no longer did.

Carpus turned toward the final guest at the table, a man dressed in crimson robes whose calm smile only made him seem more dangerous.

“I should never have accepted that rushed order from your cult,” Carpus said coldly. “You promised this would remain quiet.”

The crimson-robed man showed no offense. He simply placed down his cup and answered with a faint smile.

“Do not trouble yourself, Lord Carpus. We have already begun cleaning up the matter for you.”

Carpus’s expression darkened with disgust knowing exactly what that meant. “Do whatever you want,” he said after a moment, irritation clear in his tone. “Just make sure it does not come back to bite me.”

He was about to order the gray-haired steward to assist when the doors of the dining hall were suddenly pushed open.

One of his guards rushed inside, pale-faced and breathing hard.

“My Lord!” the man shouted in alarm. “Someone has broken into the dungeon and released the prisoners!”

For a brief instant, the room went silent.

Then fury overtook Carpus’s face.

“Which bastard dares to do this?!”

###

At the same time, deep beneath the mansion, chaos had already erupted through the underground prison complex.

A group of young men and women in foundation uniforms moved swiftly through the stone corridors. Several of the strongest among them, already within the Magus Realm, were engaged in fierce combat against armed guards. Blasts of force shook the passageways, while sparks and shattered stone flew with every exchange.

Behind them, the others worked desperately to free the captives.

Heavy cell doors were forced open one after another. Chains were broken. Starved and wounded prisoners were lifted to their feet and guided toward an escape route carved through the lower wall of the dungeon.

A fresh tunnel had been dug in advance, leading toward the outer drainage channels beyond the estate grounds.

The “product” Lord Carpus had mentioned upstairs had never been goods.

It was people.

Kidnapped men, women, and children prepared to be smuggled out of the city and sold through hidden trafficking routes.

When their previous shipment failed, the operation had become exposed. Fearing investigation, the crimson-robed cultists had descended below to eliminate every captive before the truth could spread.

Some cells had already become slaughterhouses.

Blood stained the floor.

Bodies lay where chains still hung from the walls.

That was why Gwenneth had chosen not to wait for reinforcements.

The moment she realized the killing had already begun, delay was no longer acceptable.

She led the rescue force directly into the dungeon.

“It’s Lady Star Maiden…”

“We’re saved…”

Several captives recognized her at once. Their voices trembled with disbelief and relief. Some began to cry openly, while others struggled to kneel despite their injuries.

Gwen moved quickly among them, cutting restraints, supporting the weak, and helping children into safer hands.

“There is no time,” she said firmly, though her tone persisted calm. “Everyone stay together and move through the tunnel carefully. Help those who cannot walk. No one will be left behind.”

Even in the middle of panic, her presence steadied the room.

Fear lessened.

Movement became orderly.

And where despair had ruled moments earlier, hope began to return.

However, the rescue had barely begun when a violent explosion thundered from the dungeon entrance.

The shockwave raced through the corridors, shaking dust from the ceiling and sending frightened captives screaming back against the walls. The heavy iron gate at the far end was blasted apart, twisted metal crashing across the stone floor.

More guards surged inward through the smoke.

At their front walked two figures whose presence instantly changed the atmosphere.

The gray-haired man in the fitted vest and the crimson-robed cultist. Both radiated the oppressive aura of the Grand Magus Realm.

The young rescuers immediately felt the pressure.

Several of the strongest youths who had already stepped forward at once, placing themselves between Gwen and the approaching enemies. Their faces were pale, yet none of them retreated.

“My Lady… please withdraw to safety.”

Though fear was clear in their voices, their resolve was stronger still. They were prepared to throw away their lives if it meant buying even a few moments for her escape.

Gwen’s heart tightened.

Behind her stood dozens of weakened captives, many unable to run, others barely conscious. For a brief moment, anxiety crossed her face. Then her expression changed.

A familiar shadow slid soundlessly across the floor.

It moved between broken stones and fallen bodies before rising beside her like living smoke.

“You came at the right time, Livi.”

The darkness gathered and took the form of a young girl with curved horns and bright, mischievous eyes. She stepped forward confidently, placing herself before the two Grand Magus as though their pressure meant nothing.

“I had to,” she said lightly. “Master would hate me if anything happened to you.”

Even in that tense moment, Gwen nearly smiled.

“Did you bring help?”

Livi’s grin widened.

“Of course.”

At that very instant, a deep mechanical roar rolled across the sky above the mansion.

Everyone in the courtyard and upper halls glanced upward.

Breaking through the clouds came the massive silhouette of the Void Wolf Ship, descending like a steel predator over District Two. Its engines shook the district, while the symbol of Terra gleamed along its armored hull.

Before it had fully halted, hatches opened.

Streams of figures shot outward from the vessel and lowered through the air.

Among the first to land was the fully recovered Fjolnir, whose aura now burned sharper than ever. He swept a fierce gaze across the estate grounds before speaking in a commanding tone.

“We are fighting in a crowded district. Ensure extra safety to the civilians.”

The battle that followed was swift and decisive.

Though numerous, the mansion guards were crushed between the Terra forces above and Gwen’s rescue group below. Carpus’s hired fighters either surrendered or were cut down where they stood.

Inside the dungeon, the two Grand Magus experts mounted a final resistance.

They did not survive.

Lord Carpus was dragged from a hidden chamber where he had attempted to flee with his valuables. The District Two mayor was seized while desperately insisting that he had only been maintaining order.

Less than an hour, the entire situation had been resolved.

Exactly as the mayor had boasted.

Only in the complete opposite manner of what he had expected.

Though casualties had occurred during the fighting, most of the abductees were rescued and escorted safely out of the underground prison.

As dawn approached and the story spread through streets, taverns, factories, and worker blocks, name echoed across Dawnstar City with renewed admiration.

The Terra Faction—

And in particular, Lady Star Maiden.

Thank you for reading