Erwin summoned the enchanted ring with a thought. It materialized in his palm, its face etched with a purple lotus emblem that matched the Cavendish family crest perfectly. He slipped it onto his index finger, where it resized itself for a flawless fit. Impressed, Erwin couldn't help but admire the craftsmanship.
Emboldened, he triggered his final ten draws. To his astonishment, a purple light flared once more. He blinked in disbelief. After the frustration of his earlier pulls, this felt like a stroke of pure fortune. Excitement surged through him, drowning out everything else.
[The draw has concluded. Prizes distributed!]
[...]
Guaranteed Blue Reward: 1 Talent Point!
Purple Reward: Apparition Set x1! (Includes 1 Apparition Spell Card! 1 Custom Apparition Opportunity! 1 Exclusive Mark!)
Erwin stared at the purple reward, utterly perplexed. What on earth was this? He selected to claim it immediately.
A flood of memories poured into his mind, clarifying everything. The spell card granted instant mastery of Apparition, the wizarding art of teleportation. But the custom Apparition took it further—a personalized twist, akin to how Death Eaters dissolved into black mist or Order members streaked away in white light. Crafted by a leader for their followers, it combined teleportation with flight, all tailored to the user.
Then there was the exclusive mark, Erwin's own version of the Dark Mark or Phoenix Blessing. It enabled that specialized Apparition for bearers, forging a direct link.
Erwin scratched his head, a wry smile forming. Why did everything he acquired these days echo the Dark Lord's arsenal? He was starting to feel like he just needed a cadre of fanatical followers to complete the set.
Shaking off the thought, he poured a talent point into Apparition, bumping it to level three. Next, he activated the customization option.
Customizing... Please wait!
Customization complete. Preview video available?
Erwin nodded eagerly. A preview? This System never ceased to surprise him.
A light screen flickered to life before him. On it, his own figure stood in an empty room. In a flash, purple light enveloped him. He vanished from his spot, leaving behind a blooming purple lotus in his wake—like a spectral flower unfurling in the air.
Erwin's eyes widened. "Brilliant," he muttered. It was stylish, efficient, and far superior to any broomstick. Without a second thought, he confirmed the choice. Another memory surge detailed the incantation and mechanics: less magical energy drain, seamless shifts between teleport and flight.
Now for the mark. He called Tom into the room.
"Tom, hold out your arm."
Tom complied without question, extending it calmly, curiosity lighting his eyes rather than fear. Erwin tapped the spot with his wand. A purple lotus symbol etched itself onto the skin, glowing faintly before settling.
Erwin lowered his wand. "This is my mark. If it heats up, that's me summoning you. And if you need me, speak my name through it—I'll sense it right away."
Tom nodded, flexing his arm to inspect the design. Unlike the Dark Mark's sinister pull or the Phoenix Blessing's warmth, this one pulsed with Erwin's essence, courtesy of his System. The two-way communication made it uniquely practical.
"Right," Erwin said. "Now, round up the others and have them meet at the old house. I've got instructions."
Tom turned and left to obey.
Alone, Erwin tested the connection. With a mental nudge, he pinpointed Tom's location instantly—down the hall, already making calls. Handy, he thought. Pity Tom lacked magic; without it, the mark's full potential was wasted.
Erwin resolved to probe the wizarding world for solutions once at Hogwarts—potions, rituals, anything to awaken magic in Muggles. Or perhaps his System held untapped options. Either way, his loyal Cavendish retainers deserved the chance to rise as wizards, bound by blood allegiance. They were far preferable to recruiting outsiders; their devotion was absolute.
The meeting was straightforward. Erwin outlined contingencies: Tom would oversee operations in his absence, escalating to him via owl if needed. For that, Erwin had slipped into Diagon Alley days earlier and purchased a reliable barn owl—swift and discreet.
The next morning, August 31st, dawned crisp. Departure for Hogwarts loomed. Old Tom bustled about, packing Erwin's trunk with practiced efficiency. He waited by the door as Erwin emerged, yawning and rubbing sleep from his eyes.
"Good morning, young master."
"Morning, Tom. Everything I asked for ready?"
" All set, sir—in the basement. But do you really need to haul all that?"
"Better safe than sorry," Erwin replied with a grin. "Let's check it out."
They descended to the basement, where Rivers stood guard by the door. Spotting Erwin, he hurried over with a salute.
"Young master! Finally up."
Erwin nodded. "Open it up."
Rivers swung the heavy door wide. Inside, the space brimmed with firepower: rifles lined the floor, pistols stacked neatly, AK-47s gleaming under the low light. Grenades nestled in crates, flanked by RPGs. Ammunition crates overflowed with brass-cased rounds.
Rivers whistled low. "Sir, you planning a siege? That's enough to outfit a small army—medium-scale assault, easy."
Erwin rolled his eyes. Rivers and his dramatic flair.
Tom chimed in. "I agree, young master. You can't possibly carry it all."
With a casual wave, Erwin summoned the lot. The weapons lifted in a swirling vortex, bullets clinking as they funneled into his enchanted ring. In moments, the basement stood empty.
Tom and Rivers gaped, mouths agape.
"Incredible magic," Tom breathed.
Erwin touched the ring, a surge of security washing over him. Who could fault him? Even in peaceful Great Britain, every lad harbored a fascination with firepower, inherited from tales of bolder ancestors. Hogwarts might be a wonder, but it never hurt to go prepared.