Borgin suddenly sensed an ominous surge of magic coursing through his veins.
The dormant magic within him erupted, transforming his body at a terrifying pace.
Despite the intense magical inundation, the pain was entirely eclipsed by intoxicating pleasure. He watched his strength escalate rapidly.
Borgin trembled, overwhelmed by the sheer ecstasy of absolute power.
Eventually, the swirling magic stabilized and settled.
Borgin delicately clenched his fists. Every inch of his body resonated with newfound, overwhelming might.
He yearned to scream in triumph. He craved a direct confrontation with Dumbledore and Voldemort just to test his new limits.
"Borgin, how do you feel?"
Ernst's voice sliced through the euphoria like a bucket of ice water.
Borgin froze. The realization crashed over him: the master who had granted this godlike power in minutes could extinguish it in seconds.
The casually bestowed treasure only underscored Ernst's terrifying, insurmountable prowess.
Borgin swiftly suppressed his aura and bowed deeply.
"Thank you for this generous gift, Master," Borgin murmured humbly.
"This power is extraordinary. Even if Dumbledore and Voldemort united against me, victory would be assured."
"Excellent," Ernst nodded.
"I have sealed the core entity into your body to merge seamlessly. The rest will integrate naturally."
Ernst raised a warning finger.
"With this, you can absorb magical energy directly from the air. Infinite casting. But remember: power acquired too easily breeds a lack of control."
"Do not absorb recklessly. Uncontrolled magic makes you vulnerable in battle. It can kill you."
"I will remember, Master," Borgin replied, carving the warning into his mind.
Ernst reached into his coat and produced a vial of thick red liquid and a parchment scroll. He handed them over.
"This is a specialized biological potion," Ernst explained.
"Formulated with the blood of a fire dragon."
"Follow the incantations on the scroll, and you can undergo an Animagus Transfiguration. You will transform into a true fire dragon exceeding one hundred meters in length."
Borgin accepted the items, his hands shaking with reverence.
"Acquiring true dragon blood... truly commendable, Master."
"Enough flattery," Ernst snapped.
"I have created over a dozen of these potions. You are receiving the most advanced variant because you are the only wizard alive capable of surviving the transformation."
"Why is that?" Borgin asked, his curiosity piqued.
"The magical toll to become a 100-meter dragon is staggering," Ernst replied.
"Only your new, silent reservoir of power can sustain it. If Dumbledore or Voldemort attempted this, they would be drained instantly and capped at fifty meters."
"Can it grow larger?" Borgin asked, a twinge of greed flickering in his eyes.
"Stop dreaming. One hundred meters is the limit of the blood source," Ernst replied coldly.
"Continue gathering materials for me. Books, creatures, ingredients. Keep up the hard work."
"I will not fail you, Master," Borgin promised.
Ernst vanished, leaving a vastly more powerful merchant behind in the shadows of London.
– – –
The Devil's Cabin - Pocket Dimension
Years flew by.
Ernst became a father. His priorities shifted heavily toward raising his son, Kyle.
He streamlined his experiments and minimized his laboratory time to spend his days with the boy.
But the business of the Devil's Cabin remained absolute.
Every seven days, the obsidian doors opened.
Initially, the Cabin attracted grifters offering counterfeit goods and empty promises.
But as the legend of the Devil's Cabin spread through the global underworld, the world's true elite arrived.
They discovered the ultimate commodity: Time.
Influential figures traded fortunes for longevity.
When their occult artifacts fell short, they paid in gold. One ton of gold bought one year of life.
Desperate billionaires gritted their teeth and paid the extortionate toll.
Ernst's protective amulets also became a premium export.
Extra life force didn't prevent a fatal car crash or an assassin's bullet. The amulets did. The global elite emptied their vaults to secure Ernst's physical wards.
Despite his isolation on Skull Island, Ernst watched the world turn through the Red Queen's global surveillance network.
Shaw continued his mutant revival operations, operating strictly from the shadows.
But Magneto took the spotlight.
Using the wealth and political connections abandoned by Ernst and Shaw, Erik Lehnsherr built the Brotherhood of Mutants into a global superpower.
He was loud. He was militant. He was a target.
His lack of vigilance finally caught up to him.
In a coordinated, highly classified ambush, the US government struck.
Riptide, the White Queen, and Angel were all captured.
Magneto himself was detained.
Only Mystique escaped, rescued at the last microsecond by Azazel on his orders, owing to the unique value of her shapeshifting genes.
Ernst observed Magneto's imprisonment with cold detachment. He wasn't worried about his safety.
With the global mutant population surging, executing Magneto would incite a planetary war.
Keeping him locked away as a living trophy was Washington's only play. It appeased the anti-mutant factions while keeping Professor X's moderates at the negotiating table.
The geopolitical board was shifting, and Ernst watched it all unfold from his sanctuary.
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