Seeing that last line on the System screen, Theodore Ashbourne's mouth twitched.
Another survival-maxed reward for Close Friend—no surprise there. But the Life-and-Death tier? A backstab-type talent, flagged as "extremely potent," with a note that it could even affect a Saint?
Figures. That's exactly the kind of thing the Long-Eared Dingguang Immortal would hand out—a traitor capable of stabbing Tongtian in the back.
Saints stand at the very top of the Great Desolation: near-omniscient, on a different plane entirely. Treasures that make paragons below the Saint realm look helpless turn into toys in a Saint's palm. Through the carnage of the Investiture calamity, countless cultivators fell; the Saints remained unscathed. Even Jiejiao's catastrophic defeat left Tongtian merely confined by Hongjun—crestfallen, yes, but unharmed.
Anything that can touch a Saint is vanishingly rare.
If only that Saint-tier gift weren't… a backstab boon. With something else of that calibre, Theodore would be soaring already. He sighed.
"Five minutes to Hogwarts… five minutes!" a voice boomed down the corridor.
That pulled him out of it. Hogwarts was almost here. Inside those walls, his network would grow far faster than out in the world—plenty of chances to meet people whose rewards bent fate, maybe even more of those Saint-touching talents.
Heat flickered behind his eyes.
Harry and Ron jolted at the same time. "We're almost there?"
"We haven't changed!" Hermione yelped.
And then the Empress of Getting Things Done switched on. "I'm stepping out. You have two minutes to get into your robes—I'm a girl, I need three. Now. Immediately. Go!"
The door clicked shut. Theodore, Harry, and Ron traded looks—and dove for their trunks.
Ron wrestled with a robe obviously too short, trying to hide his battered trainers beneath the hem. No luck. He exhaled, resigned… then blinked as Theodore pulled a fresh set of robes from his trunk and held them out.
Ron's face went red to the tips of his ears.
Before he could speak, Theodore rattled it off briskly:
"First, I didn't buy this—Madam Malkin tried to rope me into modelling. I said no, but promised I'd find her a tall, skinny first-year at Hogwarts. Your measurements scream 'perfect fit.'
"Second, don't feed me the 'old robes are comfy' line. Harry won't buy it, and I grew up on hand-me-downs—ill-fitting clothes aren't 'comfy,' they're penance.
"Third, it's the first day. Odds are we parade in front of the entire school. Who doesn't want a fresh set? What if there's a photo? You don't want to immortalise those trainers.
"And finally—we've got fifty-two seconds. I can feel Hermione's murderous aura through the door."
Ron's nose twitched. "Thanks," he muttered, and changed fast. The new robes fell clean and straight; the hem swallowed his trainers. For the first time in eleven years, he was in brand-new wizardwear: current cut, crisp fabric, no frayed collar, no peeking shoe leather.
He caught his reflection in the window and brightened. "Bloody brilliant."
The door snapped open. Hermione swept in like a small hurricane. "Time's up."
She hooked Harry and Ron each by an elbow and frog-marched them out, then levelled a look at Theodore. He flashed a guilty grin and slipped past before she needed to tug; the door locked again behind him.
Outside, the three boys stood in reverent silence.
When the door opened again, Theodore's eyes went wide. "Wha—"
In three minutes flat, Hermione had transformed. The frizz of chestnut hair lay sleek and glossy, falling like silk and pinned with a bright orange clip. Even her prominent front teeth looked slightly… tidier.
"Right. Let's go," she said, trying and failing not to smile as she tugged Theodore toward the corridor. Mum's whisper at the kerb had rung in her ears: Some of those girls are dressed to dazzle. There might be a welcome dance… Just in case, she had practised a hair-smoothing charm and a discreet tooth-shrinking cantrip at home. Judging by Theodore's face, they'd worked.
And if there was a dance? She tightened her grip. She would very much prefer that Theodore not be dancing with anyone else.
The train rolled to a stop at a small, dark platform. A massive silhouette waved a lantern.
"Firs' years! Firs' years, this way!"
Hagrid's voice boomed over the clatter. He broke into a grin when he spotted them. "Harry! An'—Theodore? Together, are yeh? Friends now? By Merlin, tha's grand! Love ter chat, but—firs' years with me!"
He led them down a narrow path. Even Theodore, who knew exactly what was coming, couldn't help joining the chorus of "Whoa—!" that rose from the first-years.
The Black Lake. The castle. The moon.
Hogwarts, at last.
And on the inner screen of the System, silver text unfurled like starlight:
[Congratulations—after crossing the vast lands of the Great Desolation, you arrive at Kunlun, Ancestor of Mountains; the Jade Void Palace stands within sight.]
[When the golden bell of the Jade Void rings, you will be counted among the line of Chan, entered under a Saint's gate. Boons unending; fortune without end.]
[At that time the System will upgrade. The "Talent Fusion" feature will unlock. Please anticipate.]
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