Just then, something strange happened. The pitch-black mirror behind the Silver Wand shimmered, and he stepped right out of it, like it wasn't a reflection at all, but a corridor from another world. His movement was fluid, as if walking through a veil of smoke.
He took the badge from Claremont's outstretched hands, turning it over once in his palm before tossing it casually back. Without saying a word, he raised one hand and fired a jet-black curse from his fingers.
The spell hit the badge's enhanced protego head-on. But unlike normal spells that explode or fade away, this one stuck, clinging to the surface like molten tar.
A soft sizzling filled the air as the magic ate away at the armor. It wasn't just any curse; it was the Silver Wand's signature move, the "Corruption Curse, Malignus Corruptum " Nasty stuff.
Usually, anything it touched would rot from the inside out. But this badge was no ordinary piece of gear.
The armor groaned under the pressure, but it held strong. The corrosion kept spreading slowly until, after draining all the magic within the badge, the curse finally faded.
When the smoke cleared, the armor was still standing. A large section at the center had been melted and badly damaged, but it hadn't broken through.
"Well now," the Silver Wand muttered, a note of surprise in his voice. "It actually held up against the Corruption Curse? Not bad at all."
He'd only used a portion of his power, but that was still no small thing. A defensive item that could take a hit like that was worth its weight in gold, especially in high-stakes combat.
Claremont stood frozen for a moment, shocked by how suddenly the Silver Wand had attacked. If the badge hadn't been strong enough, he might've been seriously hurt, or worse.
The thought left a bitter taste in his mouth. Was his life really that cheap to the higher-ups?
He was managing one of their largest magical park zones, and yet they treated him like he was disposable. He didn't say anything, but that quiet frustration lingered.
The Silver Wand, however, seemed completely unfazed by his own actions. After a moment of silence, he casually asked, "If Wilson Alchemica can really provide gear like this regularly, then we might be looking at a valuable partnership. How much are you short for the deal?"
Claremont's face lit up. Finally, a breakthrough. He didn't waste a second.
"They're asking for a 1,000 Galleon agency fee, 5,000 as a reserve funds."
He reached into his robes and pulled out a small notebook. "I've already paid a deposit of 2,000 Galleons, so we're just a bit short of covering the rest."
"That much?" the Silver Wand muttered, his brow furrowing as he processed the numbers.
Clearly, he hadn't expected Claremont to need that much support. Five thousand Galleons was a big ask, too big.
The request clearly struck him as excessive, and now he understood why Claremont had called Alex greedy earlier. This wasn't just ambition, it was daylight robbery.
Shaking his head firmly, the Silver Wand said, "Five thousand is too much. The club has other projects on the table right now. The most I can give you is three thousand. You'll have to find the rest on your own."
Then, almost as an afterthought, he added, "Also, once we secure the agency rights, the club will take priority on all equipment distribution, and we'll be claiming fifty percent of the shares."
Claremont nearly exploded on the spot. Only three thousand? And they wanted half the profits?
It was insulting. He was the one who had negotiated this deal, built the connection, secured the opportunity, and now they were trying to swoop in, pay less, and take more. It felt like all his work was being undervalued, stripped away in the name of the club's interests.
But he couldn't show how he felt. Not here. Not now. Forcing himself to stay calm, Claremont nodded and answered respectfully, "Yes, Master."
Still, the sting of the deal lingered, and he couldn't help but push a little more.
"But Master, I understand the initial cost is high," he said carefully, "but the returns will more than make up for it. This isn't just another business venture, this could give the club a foothold across Europe. Maybe you could… reconsider?"
His voice trailed off with cautious hope. Deep down, Claremont wasn't just chasing a profitable deal, he was chasing recognition.
He'd worked for years, doing the dirty jobs, taking the risks, helping the club expand in Germany and beyond. Yet he was still stuck on the outside, always treated like a servant rather than a real member.
He'd heard the rumors, of course. Whispers that full members of the Silver Wands had access to powerful, forbidden techniques, some said they could even extend your life, maybe even grant something close to immortality.
Whether or not that was true, Claremont didn't care. He wanted in. After all this time, he deserved to be in.
But the silver wand always found a reason to keep him out. They'd smile politely, tell him he was "valuable," but insist he hadn't made a "formal contribution" yet.
It was a convenient excuse, one that had kept him locked out for years. And now, even with this deal in his hands, it felt like the story was repeating again.
Silver Wand paused for a moment after hearing Claremont's request, trying to make sense of it. Given Claremont's long-standing contributions, his qualifications, skill, and years of loyal service, he should've already qualified to become a full-fledged Silver Wand.
But a few years back, the club shifted its attention to a broader strategy in Germany, targeting a handful of key local wizards. As part of that shift, they made the review process for Silver Wand candidates much stricter.
As a result, even senior collaborators like Claremont were left in limbo, not because they didn't deserve the promotion, but because the club had no immediate intention of officially bringing them into the fold.
People like Claremont were valuable precisely because they blended in, maintaining useful cover identities. Promoting them too soon would ruin that. So, Silver Wand had no choice but to turn him down politely.
"You've done well this time," Silver Wand said in a measured tone, "but since we haven't seen any concrete results yet, we can't approve your formal membership yet.
Don't worry, everyone recognizes your contributions. Once we hit the next milestone, your request will be at the top of the list."
Claremont, sharp as ever, could tell he was being brushed off diplomatically. Still, he knew better than to push his luck. Since Silver Wand had already given his answer, Claremont simply nodded, though he couldn't hide his reluctant expression.
Trying to shift the conversation, Silver Wand asked, "Have you heard anything from your side about those small groups in East and West Germany pushing for reunification?"