It was Monday morning again—and though it was the first day of the week like any other, this particular Monday was the last week of a September that had thrown the wizarding world into continuous turmoil.
The weather in Britain was as expected: cool and damp, with a persistent drizzle. Yet, the meteorological inconvenience was nothing to the witches and wizards walking up and down Diagon Alley at ten in the morning, their wands pointed upwards as transparent, shimmering umbrellas deflected the steady fall of rain from the sky.
At a newspaper stand a few feet away from Flourish and Blotts, a group of witches and wizards had gathered, their conversation revolving around two main topics: Minerva McGonagall's ascension and rejuvenation, and Albus Dumbledore's trip around the world.
"Hey, did you see this? The French are calling Dumbledore crazy," one of the wizards standing by the stall asked, his question not directed at anyone in particular.
"Really? The French?"
"Yeah, mate. It's right here on the front page."
"What else does it say?"
"It's a small article of questions and answers one of their reporters got after encountering Dumbledore somewhere near Greece."
"What's a Frenchman doing there? A reporter, at that?"
"Oh, it says here they were going to do an article about a new type of miniature that appeared there."
"So it was a coincidence, then?"
"Seems so…"
"Okay, now I'm curious. What else does it say?"
"It says that Dumbledore is there looking for traces of gods."
"..."
"Really? Gods?"
"Hey!! It's Headmaster Dumbledore we're talking about. If he says there are gods, then you better believe it."
"Oh, come on. There's a limit to what one can believe, even if it was Professor Dumbledore who said that. Plus, we don't know if the French actually reported everything as is."
"Oh, don't worry, they did. It's all in here. The whole manuscript. From the first hello to the last goodbye."
"Why are you showing me that? I don't read French."
"That's true. David here barely reads English."
"Hahahahaha!"
Laughter erupted from the small gathered crowd, only to be interrupted by another voice.
"Hey, that French article is written here as well," a man hovering over the Daily Prophet section said, drawing the attention of the rest.
"No, it's not. I have the bloody paper right here and it's not mentioned!"
"Open the last page and you'll see."
The sound of ruffling papers echoed before the man exclaimed, "Well, I'll be. Who in their right mind writes something this bloody important and leaves it on the last page? They even have the ad for the Witch Weekly's new vote for most beautiful women before the bloody thing!"
"Hahahahah, that's because Professor McGonagall is on there this time."
"Seriously? They still haven't stopped talking about that? They've been trying to interview her since last Thursday."
"Yeah, well, she returned to her youth and became super powerful. It's living proof of why we shouldn't doubt Professor Dumbledore."
"You were a Gryffindor at Hogwarts, weren't you?"
"But of course."
"It's understandable, then. Still, I can't deny that this was a slap in the face to all those who theorized about dark rituals and stuff."
"Not necessarily. Otherwise, why hasn't Professor McGonagall met with the reporters yet?" a mousy voice cut into the conversation.
"Because she's taking care of the castle while Headmaster Dumbledore is out?"
"Oh, ignore him," one of the women in the group said as she shoved the man with the mousy voice to the back. "Tell me, what else does it say about the hunk—I mean, Headmaster Dumbledore?"
"….."
For a second, there was silence as everyone processed and decided to ignore the slip of the tongue, deeming it not worth it. It was a gesture that showed just how common an experience this was nowadays.
"Oh, right! Hear this… The reporter asked Professor Dumbledore, saying, 'Mister Dumbledore'—" the man started mimicking a French accent— "'what do you say in regards to the news that's circulating the globe, saying that you were the one who got the Dark Lord Grindelwald out of his prison cell?'"
"Hahahahah! That's the worst French accent I have ever heard!" "Right?" "Truly ridiculous!"
"Oh, shut up and let me continue…" the man said as he ruffled the newspaper in his hand. "Professor Dumbledore replied, 'Why would I say anything? I was in a meeting with almost all the ICW council members at the time we received the news. If it's all about throwing baseless accusations, then I almost certainly could do the same thing. But there's no use in doing that. The man is out, and if we don't want to get into another war, then we must unite…'"
"Yeah, that's Professor—Headmaster—Dumbledore for you," was the shared sentiment among the group.
The talk gravitated towards different things from there. Some discussed the recent sightings of dragons near Wales, others talked about the rumors circulating throughout the Ministry.
Someone even said that the Triwizard Tournament was going to be revived, while others refused to believe it.
"I'm telling you, the tournament is going to happen soon!"
"That's not possible. Such things require thorough preparation, and with the current turbulence in global politics… it's just not likely."
"And I'm telling you, my information is accurate… I paid a pretty penny for it."
"Uh-oh. Someone got scammed."
"I didn't get scammed! I bought the information straight from Ludo Bagman. He said he was the one to deliver the cup to Dumbledore last week."
"Yeah, you got scammed." "Certainly." "You got nipped, mate."
"You'll see when the news gets out… you'll all see!" the man said and separated from the group, stomping and huffing angrily as laughter erupted behind him.
Still, this wasn't the only group discussing the recent news. If one walked a little bit ahead, they'd hear similar topics being debated. Even in the Leaky Cauldron, people were discussing such topics.
"Hey Tom, where's today's newspaper? This is yesterday's," a stout man with a heavy beard asked as he came closer to the counter.
"Over there, on table four," Tom replied as he continued to wipe the glass in his hand.
The man looked over and saw a group of three eating while discussing the news, so he didn't go over and just sat on the stool.
"Seems like I won't be able to read that anytime soon," the man muttered as he turned his head. "So, anything new?"
"Nothing. People still want to meet Professor McGonagall, but she's busy running the school for a while. The French are calling Professor Dumbledore crazy because he was investigating the anomalies, and the Americans are demanding that he attends MACUSA because he entered illegally and are threatening to detain him…"
"Pfffft, hahahhahahahah!" A sudden burst of laughter erupted, making everyone look for the source.
There, by the counter corner, sat a man in a black Auror uniform, with a half-finished plate of food and a cup of tea. The man was laughing so hard that the food he was chewing was now scattered all over his own goatee, uniform, and the counter.
"Detain Dumbledore…" he wheezed.
"Hahahahah!" He continued laughing…
"What is he laughing at?"
"I don't know, but he must have heard something funny if he's laughing like that," Tom replied with a chuckle, clearly swept up by the laughter.
"I'm sorry. I just heard you say that the Yankees are trying to detain Dumbledore and couldn't hold it in," the Auror said as he took out his wand. He pointed it at himself, muttered an incantation, and then did the same to the countertop.
It was a Cleaning Charm, evident by the fast-fading stains and crumbs.
"What's so funny about that?" the bearded man asked, curiosity evident in his tone.
"You haven't seen Dumbledore fight, have you?" The Auror chuckled and shook his head. "If you did, you would find that funny too…"
"Why? Is he really that strong?"
"Well, if before, a few dozen Aurors couldn't stop him, now even a few hundred wouldn't stand a chance," the Auror shrugged and went back to eating his food.
"It can't be that exaggerated…"
"Eh, believe what you want," the Auror shrugged again. "It won't be long before they annoy Professor Dumbledore enough to get a demonstration… and when they do, remember that I told you so…"
"We'll see… anyway, Tom, what else is in the news? Why was Dumbledore in America in the first place?"
"We don't know. The news said he was sighted near the Empire State Building or something like that…" Tom shrugged and put another glass on the shelf.
"Hmm, what could it be…" the man muttered before ordering something to eat along with some coffee.
X_
On the other side of the globe, reactions to the news were markedly different, especially in Japan, which had been the first country to utilize the Archive outside of Hogwarts and Britain.
The first few days since the installation of the Archive in Mahoutokoro School of Magic had been hectic, with the Japanese Ministry and various clans throwing their weight around in attempts to secure first access rights and, in some cases, monopolize the system entirely.
The Headmistress and her staff had fought hard against all attempts, as evidenced by the fist-shaped dents in the still-intact wooden tables, the piles of broken ones, and the various cracks and scorch marks on the doors, walls, and even the floor.
In a drastic move, the Headmistress had even gone so far as to renounce her clan name to ensure impartiality, pushing to accelerate the distribution of access to the students.
Then, the news of Minerva McGonagall's rank ascension arrived, and like a bucket of cold water, it doused the flames of their greed.
It wasn't that the information was new to them, but the news of someone else gaining such profound power while they were still squabbling for scraps among themselves struck a deeper chord than anticipated. They were forced to confront a stark reality: while they fought over the tool, others were already using it to gain real, tangible power.
This realization was compounded by the fact that access to the new elemental magic was partially restricted until users met specific requirements: higher magical control, deeper theoretical knowledge, and a stronger core, among others.
Only the Headmistress had access to more than half the information, and that was solely due to her administrative privilege. The gap between their current abilities and what was required became startlingly obvious after she tried, and failed, to progress beyond the most basic level of elemental practice.
These factors, more than any other, provided the final impetus the Japanese magical community needed. The internal strife ceased almost overnight, replaced by a unified effort to organize and plan the most efficient way to distribute the Archive's knowledge to all their citizens.
On the other hand, countries that had been interfering with the Archive's installation at Beauxbatons, Ilvermorny, Durmstrang, Castelobruxo, and others—such as France, the USA, Germany, Brazil, and various Northern European and South American nations—began sending a flood of missives and official notices, demanding Dumbledore meet with them at once.
It didn't matter if they were enemies, friends, or neutral; everyone had suddenly realized that Dumbledore wasn't talking nonsense and that they would lose influence and power the longer they delayed.
It was obvious that many factions, groups, and influential people had been trying to buy time—to investigate, to play political games, or simply out of stubbornness. But when confronted with the irrefutable evidence before their eyes, they, too, were forced to stop their stalling.
The evidence, of course, was the flood of moving pictures printed in the news: images of the now-youthful Professor McGonagall either teaching, demonstrating the new magic, or simply going about her daily life.
Those pictures, however, did not come easily. In just three days, every house in Hogwarts had lost two hundred points or more, leaving most houses with a negative tally on the scoreboard.
Still, to most students, it was an acceptable sacrifice, because one moving picture sold for enough money to pay off all outstanding student loans at Gringotts. Of course, this would only last until Professor Dumbledore returned, freeing Professor McGonagall of her additional burdens and leaving her time to give an interview or two.
Of course, politics weren't everything. Magic guilds, such as the Transfiguration Guild, which counted Minerva McGonagall as one of its most renowned members, and the Charms Guild, were the most vocal with their requests to meet her. Not that other guilds didn't ask; it was just that guilds such as the Enchantment Guild, Artificers' Guild, and even the Alchemy Guild sent only a single request for a meeting at her earliest convenience, and that was it.
Nevertheless, no matter how noisy and turbulent the wizarding world had been these past few days, Albus Dumbledore did not care. Aside from the impromptu interview he gave in Greece, he didn't say anything and just kept roaming the world…
Or, at least, that's what people thought…
X_
—Somewhere in Southern India—
• Monday, 10:00 Am •
[ Albus Dumbledore ]
"There are traces here too, huh?" I muttered, watching the frantic stream of data the Archive compiled as I scanned the different divine energy traces I kept finding during my flame-teleports across India.
This was the fourth day of me doing this exact same thing all over the globe, and problems just kept piling up. I hadn't even been in this world for a month, and I could already see my chances of success dropping with every passing day.
I kept doing this because I knew that it was about time I actually figured things out for myself. Sure, I had known about the DxD world merging with ours since the beginning, but the PJO verse was a complete unknown—if Cassius hadn't informed me, I wouldn't have found out until it was far too late.
'Would it have been better to be ignorant in this case?'
The thought was a contemplative whisper in my head, but it offered no answers. Every option has its own pros and cons. Some more than others, but everything has its price…
Still, the time spent roaming the world since Thursday afternoon was not in vain. I had gotten a lot more information than I anticipated—some worse than others, but all valuable in their own way.
"Was it, though?" I murmured, questioning my thoughts as I began recalling what I had done since I left Hogwarts…
-flashback-
• Thursday, 4:30 pm •
I left Hogwarts after informing my staff of urgent business that needed to be taken care of—a statement I am sure was misunderstood.
I knew they misunderstood the reason for my sudden departure because of the general vibe I got when I informed them. They all looked at me with hardened faces and clenched jaws, as if sending a comrade to war.
I am not sure what they thought I was going to do—okay, that's a lie—I am pretty sure they thought I was going to investigate Grindelwald's escape, but of course, I was not. I was going to investigate the world, see if there were any traces of gods, spirits, etc., as well as if there were any other places where magic in the air was different, like it was in Japan, and last but not least, the Muggle governments.
I didn't have any real motives behind that last one, other than confirming if the conspiracy theories in my past life were correct…
My journey started with our very own Britain. Disguised and invisible, I visited different departments and skimmed through the minds of dozens of Muggles, mostly those in high positions within the governing body.
'Isn't this just awesome?' I remember thinking sarcastically, of course, as I organized what I had discovered so far.
What I discovered was not good news, but it couldn't be considered bad news either—at least currently. I found out that the government does, in fact, know more about the wizarding world than it portrays, and it's all thanks to those greedy goblins and the Muggle-borns.
That was why I found myself walking through that dimly lit corridor, my footsteps muffled and almost every trace of my presence concealed.
This place—which looked like one of those spy movie buildings, full of LED-lit panels and sleek surfaces—was one of the headquarters used by the MI6 and the Royal Magical Court.
'Pffft, the Royal Magical Court,' I shook my head at the name. It was just an organization that worked for the protection of the royal family against all things magical and nothing else. They didn't have much authority, really—just bodyguards with a fancy name…
Nevertheless, it was here, in this very headquarters building, that these organizations contracted, trained, and tested the qualifications of the last remaining candidates of all those who hoped to join them.
The door opened with a swoosh as two people wearing black, agent-like uniforms walked out, followed by a group of four wizards in war-robes.
I certainly didn't linger or stop as I continued walking past them and went directly into the room.
The room was big, with a circular black table in the middle, rows of computers against the wall, and even a white screen for the projector placed in the middle of the table.
'Are they trying to imitate the Round Table?' I mused as I pondered why the table was old, round, and made of wood.
I knew I was right, though, as 'the Knights of the Round Table' was what the group of fifteen department heads directly under the Queen called themselves.
I don't know why they were doing this, though, and I had been in their heads. They didn't have the complete information; all they knew were their own authority parameters and their jobs.
'So I have no other option than meeting the queen, right?' I pondered as I scanned the room, read a few files, placed a few subtle spells all over, and left quietly…
"Hey, there's news from our agent in the ministry, saying that Minerva McGonagall also went through the same thing Dumbledore did and now she has a new magic," I heard as soon as I was a few feet from the door, on my way out.
The door opened again and two men walked inside, completely oblivious to the fact that I was there.
"What exactly did they say?" a man with an impressive build, a slightly handsome, rugged face, and black hair full of white spots that told of his age asked.
"The news isn't confirmed yet, but they said some of the wizarding ministry employees who are connected to Dumbledore's new magic are discussing the news they got in some sort of an announcement."
"Ask them to get us concrete information first."
"Yes, sir."
I was impressed, really. If anyone saw my expression, they would say the same thing, yet I couldn't help but feel slightly miffed by the whole situation. I knew why wizards joined these forces on the Muggles' side, and I knew how these Muggles actually and truly felt about them.
'I need to make some countermeasures,' I noted, jotting down some ideas I had at the time before going about my day.
I spent the rest of the day roaming libraries, colleges and universities all over the isles, recording and saving the information I got into the Archive.
There may not be a lot of areas where magic and Muggle science meet, but that didn't mean the information was not helpful. It would help a great deal in the creation of the new magi-technology branch of magic.
• Friday, 8:00 Am •
By Friday morning I was already in Italy, where I spent the first six hours investigating the Muggle government, the church, and their Ministry of Magic.
In Italy I found out a lot of things, like the fact that their government's ties and beliefs regarding magic are strongly aligned with that of the Vatican—that 'magic is evil' kind of thing. That didn't mean they didn't have their own squad of wizards, and their own shares of deals with the goblins, though.
They truly showed that no matter what religion or beliefs you have, gold is still gold.
Nonetheless, it was also true that it was here that I found a few types of new energy traces. I took samples of them, which, to be honest, was just me using my magic to contain the energy and seal it inside a small vial.
Standard procedure, really; any Auror worth his salt knows how to collect traces. They don't know how to sense anything beyond magic, though, so they're kind of useless here.
Still, it was in Italy that I got the first three vials, which contained wisps of energy that looked like constantly moving threads.
I also came to know that there's in fact a being from outside of our world staying in the Vatican—a fallen one, at that—though I couldn't find them as they were not there at the time. The memories of the people there, as well as all the different types of magical protection, told me all I wanted to know.
'I don't know why, but it feels like this was done on purpose. Is it fate?' I wondered as I left the Vatican.
I didn't want to be entangled with something so troublesome just yet, so I left Italy after that.
• Friday, 2:00 pm •
After I had lunch in a nice restaurant in Italy, I Apparated directly to Berlin, Germany. It was here that I found some very disturbing things—Wizard Gangs.
'I mean, if Italy had a wizard mafia working with the local government, why wouldn't Germany have her own little gangs of wizards?' I thought, derision and sarcasm passing hand in hand with that thought.
The Muggle government was the same as the previous two and had their own wizard squads, only known and commanded by the highest authority.
I didn't linger much in Germany as I only passed through to make a list of things wrong and see if I could find something. I didn't, but the notes I made were good enough.
'Gellert will have a hard time… I can't wait,' I smiled at the thought and Apparated, leaving Germany and heading towards Norway, where I spent two hours roaming and collecting energy traces for analysis.
• Spain, 6:00 pm •
By evening I was already in Spain, Apparating or flame-teleporting through the cities while enjoying my time.
I was done with everything pretty quickly, even with the new types of monsters, plants, and energies I found around the country.
I spent my time checking the wizarding scene instead, which was one of the worst situations globally. Wizards here were ruled by one family, which was the royal family, just like their Muggle counterpart.
Under said family were multiple forces, mostly grey and dark aligned, as they were the ones enforcing the rules. The Ministry of Magic was just a front for the public, as it turned out, so I just left it as is for now.
These are problems for Gellert to take care of…
That's why I spent my time going around copying knowledge instead. It was Spain, one of the few countries that actually has some decent collections of spiritual magic and some other developed branches of dark magic like Voodoo and blood magicks.
I wanted all the knowledge in their possession, so I sneaked into the most fortified libraries they had. I copied almost every book I laid my hands on in the next two and a half hours, especially those stored within the royal family's library.
After that, I just sat down, ate some food, and relaxed. Okay, not really relaxed, but meditated, as one of the books on spiritualism stated that one needs to be able to sense his own soul.
Such a thing was easy for me as I had the essence of the Bright Lord, so I went further. I tried to eject my soul out of my body, like sorcerers did in Marvel. Turned out that is a stupid idea.
So there I was, somewhere in southern Spain, I think, sitting cross-legged in a forest clearing about half a mile away from one of the few wizarding villages in this area.
"Should I really be doing this?" I asked aloud, even though I was completely alone.
I looked over at the small stream of water passing by, unobstructed by the stones or dirt in its path, and shook my head.
'Yeah, I won't know unless I try,' I affirmed, closing my eyes, taking a few deep breaths, and starting to utilize my essence to help me sense my soul.
I don't know how long it took before I slipped into a trance, but I soon found myself looking at the vague, transparent outline of a humanoid being.
'Is this my soul?' I wondered, observing the different colors that circulated through the transparent, grey, human-shaped form sitting in a cross-legged position. The only thing that seemed solid and not see-through was the fist-sized ball in the chest area.
'That should be the core, turned reactor thanks to the Archmage essence,' I hummed to myself, circling my soul a few times.
"But what is this?" I asked, reaching out to touch the constantly shifting tattoo on its arm. As soon as I did, I understood what it was.
"Ah, so this is the contract, huh?"
I didn't like the fact that something like this was etched onto my soul, but I seemed to have no power over it. For now, I ignored it and returned to my examination.
I kept examining my soul for a while, observing how the energies inside my reactor leaked small streams that circulated and returned to it every few seconds.
"Now then, let's try astral projection," I muttered, somewhat excitedly as I tried to push my soul out of my body.
"Ughhhh!!!" I groaned in pain as soon as I tried, feeling like something was trying to peel out my skin. A golden energy emanated from my core and soon enough the pain subsided, going away as if it was a figment of my imagination…
I took a few seconds to re-examine everything, trying to find the reason for my pain but to no avail.
"It seems I need more information on souls," I concluded and willed myself out of there—wherever there was.
When I opened my eyes, it was already dark. I stood up, stretched, dusted myself off, and cast a few refreshing charms before bursting into flames and leaving the clearing, my destination: France.
• France, Friday 9:45 pm •
With a burst of fire, I finally landed in Lyon, France. The "City of Love"—by wizarding world classification. It was named such because it had one of the largest populations of Veelas in France.
Now, if it were up to me, I would call it the City of Sex. Alas, it's not, so I just call it what everyone else does. The reason I postponed my visit to France until nightfall was that I wanted to visit this city first, and what better time to visit than night?
'I can't say I just wanted to come and whore around here in broad daylight, right?' I thought as I started walking.
'Maybe there's more of the old-fashioned Dumbledore mentality in me than I thought,' I chuckled, beginning my search for the entrance to the magical side.
Five minutes later, I was standing in front of the entrance: a statue of a naked woman in a prayer-like pose.
I eyed the statue for a second and saw the belly button glow. I took out my wand and made a circular motion over it.
Catchak... crack…. Brrrrr.
The sound of the statue moving back to reveal a staircase was not pleasant to the ears; the sound of friction between stones and dirt rarely is.
I went down the staircase—about fifteen steps—before a torch-lit corridor was revealed. I didn't bother looking at the engravings on the walls or the colors of the bricks; I was too busy observing the enchantments that made this place fascinating.
The way the limited space-expansion and extension enchantments were layered and linked with magic identification, trace registration, and number recognition was extremely fascinating. It made it so the entrance and corridor responded to the number of people entering and expanded accordingly.
'I guess there's a reason France is called the jewel of enchantments,' I mused as I entered the magical side—and it's not just because the Enchantment Guild is located here…
As soon as I entered the street, I was greeted by a scene that looked like it was out of a GTA game from my previous life, with a magical twist. The women were Veelas, the buildings were old, tilted, and mismatched in color, connected by what looked like a failed attempt to recreate the Hanging Gardens, with tree branches linking each building across the street.
The groups of Veelas standing together, inviting men over, combined with the way the magic in the air looked, smelled, and felt more like sex magic than anything else, painted a very clear picture of why this was called the City of Love…
I, of course, didn't go with any of the girls who tried to cling to me; I didn't want to get STDs. Sure, magic gets rid of sexual diseases pretty fast, but it's more a matter of principle than prevention.
I walked for about six minutes, observing and generally just watching the wizarding nightlife, before I arrived at my destination—the Blue Tulips hotel.
This is one of the three chains of international hotels in the wizarding world, which, to be honest, everyone knows is just a very high-class whorehouse, as most wizards and witches don't need such things as hotels.
'Anyway, it's time for me to enjoy my new life for a bit,' I thought as I entered, bypassing and rebuffing the waves of magical compulsions that suggested I undo any and all kinds of magical disguise.
It's a clever protection system, but unfortunately, it won't work on anyone with above-average Occlumency training.
That night was the first time I felt human since coming into this world.
Also, I might have discovered why wizards love and hate Veelas in equal measure…
• Saturday, 9:53 Am.•
My Saturday morning was busy, as I had to continue my investigation, so I started with the Muggle government in France… it was not a good idea, as I discovered a lot of pure-blood families using their Squibs to try and gain control over the Muggle side in secret.
"Tell Gellert to come back to Paris and finish the job…" I wrote a note to myself inside the Archive as I continued my investigation.
These imbeciles, like their British counterparts, don't seem to register just how much hatred their Squibs harbor for them, although unlike the British, these idiots are funding them…
The only good thing about France is how restricted these pure-bloods are in the general political scene. Although, now that I think about it, this might be the reason why they started looking towards the Muggle side…
Anyway, I was out of France by eleven-thirty, as I didn't find any new energy traces aside from similar ones I found near churches or other places of worship.
• USA, 11:45 am •
I Apparated directly to America next, as it was one of the places that would confirm if the energy traces I kept finding were what I thought they were. According to what Cassius uploaded into the Archive, the Greeks were situated here in the PJO verse. That's why I found myself in New York, standing in front of the Empire State Building.
I was on top of the Empire State Building when I noticed something off. I didn't find anything suspicious until I reached the top, where I saw a mist-like phenomenon. It wasn't magical, that I could tell; while it worked like a Notice-Me-Not charm, it was more powerful and had far stronger compulsion and mind-altering properties.
I wanted to take samples, of course, but as soon as I touched it, I was able to sense far more different and alien energies cloaked by it.
"So this is the Mist, huh?" I muttered as I took a few samples to experiment on and try to replicate with magic, as it seemed immensely helpful.
I took samples of the different energies, too, as I was now pretty sure that the heavy, concept-oriented energies I had collected so far were divine energy. The rest, especially those traces that felt more human and without much weight, were still unknown to me.
"Still, I should not jump to conclusions, no matter how obvious it may seem." I shook my head and started heading back down.
I noticed a few wizards and witches here and there, but I ignored them as I was done with what I needed to do. I didn't have the time to waste on the Muggle government here, as I had a premonition that doing so would give me a headache.
"I'll leave that to Gellert," I sneered and left with an almost inaudible pop…
• Greece, 2:00 pm, Saturday •
The food here is great…
Yeah, let's leave it at that…
• Turkey, 4:00 pm •
The food here is also great, and their magical community is doing way better than their neighboring countries, and most of the European ones, too.
I didn't find any new energies, but I did hear some very interesting news about discovering new tombs.
I ventured south for the rest of the day and visited some of the Arabian magical communities, found some other interesting things before heading to Egypt two hours after nightfall.
• Sunday, Egypt 7:00 Am •
"Problems just keep piling up, don't they?" I said to myself as I prepared to leave India and head to a desert somewhere.
I have collected enough samples of divine energy and other trace materials to attempt replication using my own essence. If I can become a god from the get-go, I will do it. I am far too old for the shounen protagonist route…
• Monday, 1:30 pm •
I stood somewhere in the vast emptiness of the Arabian desert. The sun was high and merciless, the heat scalding, a palpable force radiating from the sky above and the sands below. Mirages shimmered in every direction, the air wavering from the intense temperature.
"This place is good enough," I muttered as I looked around and started casting a few wards to keep the area for a mile and a half inaccessible and undetectable to anyone else.
It was a precaution against being interrupted while attempting what could be considered a stupid move. I didn't actually know what combining these traces would accomplish, nor if absorbing or recreating the energy would succeed.
I waved my hand and conjured a carpet to sit on, then started arranging some of the vials I had gathered, making sure to save samples for later.
I started by uncorking the vial of divine energy trace that I got in Italy, before guiding it into the transparent sphere of energy I had hovering over my left hand.
I did the same with some others, testing for any incompatibility by observing the energy's behavior. There were some polarity reactions, but they settled as soon as I added some of the spiritual energy traces I had found in Africa and India.
Still, no matter how hard I tried, the energies didn't seem to want to combine.
"What if I added this?" I asked myself, looking at the thick, silver-colored wisp of energy moving inside a small glass vial. I didn't know what this energy was, but I knew for sure that it was of mortal origin.
As soon as I added this wisp into the sphere, it went directly toward the unstable, constantly shifting marble of divinity that was trying to take form.
In that moment, I felt the world go quiet. I was in the desert, so I imagined it couldn't get quieter than that. Yet, I was wrong.
It felt as if the world was holding its breath. Was it in anticipation? Or something else? I did not know.
Yet as I stood there, watching the marble-sized divinity in my left palm spin and shift, I was struck with inspiration. An epiphany, if you will, and I instinctively knew that if I wanted to succeed, I needed to add my own energy into it.
I needed to erase all lingering will and influence that the divinity I held possessed. And so I did.
I started to slowly infuse my magic—pure, holy power—into it, slowly and methodically.
I don't know how long the state lasted, and I didn't care either, for as soon as everything clicked into place, I felt the world become more vibrant and alive.
The marble-sized energy in my hand looked like a transparent golden glass that held a rainbow within. It was very small, no bigger than the tip of my pinky finger, yet it was also impossibly heavy, as if this small thing had the weight of the world resting upon it.
Just as I was admiring it, the marble dissolved and seeped into my hand. I felt it travel through my veins, into my heart, and stop there.
For about five seconds, everything seemed to be alright. I sighed in relief, but it was short-lived. I suddenly felt my heart ache as if stabbed by thousands of needles.
I felt my blood boil, my veins heat as if transporting lava instead of blood. I became acutely aware of every small vein in my body. Then, as if to mock me, I felt the energy seeping into my head, and that's when the real agony started.
If before I could hold on with sheer willpower, now even that seemed futile.
"So this is how I die… huh," I croaked before I fell face first onto the carpet, my body spasming and twisting in pain.
"Ughhhhhhhhh!" I yelled with all my might before I blacked out…
X_
A/N: sorry for the delay. I had to take care of family emergency—my uncle died—and so we (me and my brother) had to take care of everything, ensuring the kids are okay etc…
Anyway, I just found the time to finish this chapter, and I will start writing the new one in a few hours when I am home.
Thank you for your support and understanding…
PS/ if you want to read in advance ( until chapter 21) or just support me you can join my p@treon/hunter20