The line that flashed across Theodore's vision made his heart thump.
[Adamantine Body, Unclouded Mind attained.]
A power unique to those who sanctify the flesh; within the Three Realms and Six Paths, calamity does not cling, nor does the soul fall to rebirth.
Though your cultivation is shallow, bearing this gift is a colossal fortune.
Trait I — Body Like Adamantine, Undying Frame: resists spirit-forged flame and weapon, wards off outside evils, extends lifespan by a thousand years.
Trait II — Spirit Terrace Crystal-Clear: mind neither muddled nor broken, untouched by banes; bewitching arts that seize the soul fail, inner demons do not arise.
Trait III — Bulwark Against Mortal Calamity: a true Saint of Flesh steps beyond the Three Realms and knows no disaster; even at your current level, you can withstand one killing calamity every three years.
Even with his Seven-Apertures Heart, Theodore stared blankly for a beat. When the meaning finally landed, he clenched his fists and punched the air, letting the thrill bleed off his chest.
This wasn't just a win. It was daylight robbery.
To "sanctify the flesh" meant reaching an immortal grade through the body alone—no place on the Investiture Roll, no crutches—bone and blood refined until they shed the mortal coil. Across the whole Conferred Gods calamity, only seven ultimately did it. Compared to Saints it was still small—but anything stamped with the word Saint is never ordinary.
Power flooded him. Even with Copper Skin & Iron Bones, Innate Divine Strength, and Lotus Body Protection gone, his body and spirit were transforming, sloughing off the old. Heat surged through tendon and marrow like a spring tide. His raw strength leapt—past what Innate Divine Strength had given—and kept climbing.
His mind brightened to a clear, steady lake.
A sanctified body takes no calamity; a steadfast soul does not tumble into the wheel.
His mental defence now outstripped even Lotus Body Protection.
When the metamorphosis finally ebbed, Theodore opened his eyes—twin needles of light flickered and the corridor seemed to flash brighter for an instant. He lifted his hand; along his skin a sheen of gold rippled—akin to the lustre of Copper Skin & Iron Bones, yet denser, higher, older. Just staring at that faint aureate glow stirred a sense of the unwithering; as if nothing under heaven could truly touch him.
Before, with Copper Skin & Iron Bones, he could shrug off blades and flame and meet garden-variety jinxes with his face. Strong alchemy gear or vicious black curses, though, would still bite. As for Avada Kedavra or a basilisk's gaze—from a clean hit there'd been little room to live.
Now? With Adamantine Body, Unclouded Mind—his defence had stepped up a dimension.
Body like adamantine. Calamities cannot add.
A spark of mischief crossed his eyes.
"Incendio Maxima."
A fireball gathered before him, compressed and forced white-hot by Control Fire As One. Once, even Copper Skin & Iron Bones would have treated it with respect.
He flicked his wand. The fireball slammed straight into his chest.
Gold washed over him. Adamant, unwithering.
The spell did nothing.
Theodore grinned, satisfied. "Even Sectumsempra or Fiendfyre might get blunted by this."
But the sweetest part was Trait III: one killing calamity negated every three years.
In the wizarding world, Avada Kedavra is the most broken thing of all—an instant-death curse tossed around like confetti by Death Eaters. No matter how he'd stacked resistances before, a proper hit was still a coin flip with the reaper.
Now, once every three years, the reaper's scythe splinters.
Golden light slowly subsided along his arms. Theodore exhaled, forcing the giddiness down.
"Steady. Don't get reckless."
"One charge per three years. If calamities stack—two Killing Curses in a row, or worse—I could still die."
"Until I've got true crushing power, keep the profile low. Make more friends; make fewer enemies."
He glanced over his streamlined status. Where once it sprawled, now it was clean:
Core Talents:
Adamantine Body, Unclouded Mind
Command Wind & Thunder
Control Fire As One
Seven-Apertures Heart
Auxiliary Talents:
Night Sight, Veil the Breath, Dining on Wind & Drinking Dew, Chess-Mastery Aptitude
Methods:
Five-Colour Stone Method, Flying-Tiger Drill
And one new line since the smelting update: Dao Rhyme.
He eyed the faint counter—one wisp.
"Can I feed Dao Rhyme into Adamantine Body?"
A pulse from the System: Insufficient. Minimum one hundred wisps for visible change.
He tried the others. The headliners all demanded a lot. Even Control Fire As One needed ten wisps to budge.
"Too poor for the big boys," he muttered. "So… boost a support."
He didn't hesitate and poured the wisp into Dining on Wind & Drinking Dew—his lifeline for drawing in aura.
The counter dropped to zero. The talent's note updated:
You've grasped new subtleties. The rate of aura gained from wind and dew increases; there is a small chance to collect rare auras that descend from the Ninth Heaven.
"Good." Once he found a legal way to fly around Hogwarts, he'd test how much stronger the intake was—and what that "rare aura" did.
For now, he'd been out long enough. Time to slip back to the dorm.
He turned to leave.
From the far end of the corridor came a delighted meow.
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