In an instant, a terrifying, deeply ominous premonition crept up his spine, leaving the old professor chilled to his very marrow.
...No, it was impossible.
Creating life—perhaps even creating an entire miniature world...
Those were powers reserved for Merlin himself.
Did Ethan truly intend to become—?
"How long do you estimate it will take to research the Blood Malediction Potion?"
Slughorn shuddered violently. He turned his head in a panic, meeting those piercing, cobalt-blue eyes. His throat tightened as he whispered tremulously, "W-with Ravenclaw's Diadem, it would likely take three or four years..."
"Excellent." Ethan nodded, offering a thin smile. "Have it ready for me within two months."
Slughorn: "..."
Then why did you even bother asking me?
"Of course, I'll be assisting you," Ethan said, patting the old professor on the shoulder. "And we shall also have the help of our esteemed 'Half-Blood Prince'—pfft!"
Slughorn looked bewildered. Is there actually a Potions Master in this school with such an edgy, adolescent name?
At that moment, Helena Ravenclaw drifted over. She cast a brief glance at the professor before leaning close to Ethan, her voice a soft murmur:
[You truly purified my mother's diadem... Thank you. I shall honor our previous agreement, Honorable Lord Vincent.]
[I will guide you to a place now forgotten by all—the legendary secret core of Hogwarts.]
"Good," Ethan replied, his eyes brightening.
[But... please, prepare yourself emotionally.] Helena straightened her back, her hands resting at her sides. [As I cautioned you before, the core is no longer whole...]
[In fact, it can no longer be activated.]
[It is nothing more than a furnace core that has long since grown cold.]
"A cooled furnace core..." Ethan murmured.
A spark of inspiration flashed through his mind as he recalled new entries from the Necronomicon—the Ritual of the Map's Domain. High-level magical paintings acted like a protective layer on the surface of Hogwarts. However, if one wished to fundamentally transform the castle—to make Hogwarts a fortress more formidable than any goblin stronghold—one had to start with the "furnace."
The surface and the interior; the painting and the forge. They had to support one another.
But the crux of the problem was...
He lacked the "kindling" to serve as the source of it all.
Helena continued: [According to my observations, the furnace lost its efficacy because it exhausted its fuel over the last millennium.]
"What kind of fuel was used back then?" Ethan asked.
[I apologize, I am not entirely certain... but the concentration of magic a thousand years ago far exceeded what exists today. I fear it will be nearly impossible to find fuel of sufficient quality now.]
Ethan lowered his head, sinking into a silent contemplation.
It was true. A thousand years ago, magic could move mountains and part seas; today, a student is showered with praise just for mastering a standard Levitation Charm. Hufflepuff's Cup could power a Primal Giant, but Hogwarts Castle was countless times larger than any giant.
"If such fuel could truly be found, Dumbledore wouldn't have left the core abandoned," Ethan sighed softly, his gaze deepening. "Is there only one way left...?"
That was to use the Ritual of the Map's Domain to force the core into motion. With the assistance of complex incantations, the requirements for the fuel—or "kindling"—could be relaxed.
As long as he sacrificed a single, magically profound believer.
"...Oh, Fate! How cruel thou art~!"
Ethan finally looked toward the ceiling, shouting in an exaggerated, operatic tone. The flames of the forge had always been sparked from the remains of the dead.
"Regardless, let us go down and see for ourselves," Ethan thought. He glanced at the bewildered professor and said solemnly:
"The Great War is approaching. We must utilize everything at our disposal. I have a feeling that the Blood Malediction Potion is the key to breaking the stalemate!"
"I-is that so?"
"It is. During this brief respite, I intend to prepare the school as thoroughly as possible."
Even if the ritual lacked fuel for now, Ethan planned to engrave the runes first. That way, the moment a turning point appeared, he could activate it instantly.
Ethan turned his head, his cobalt-blue eyes staring out the window toward the distant horizon. "The Ministry of Magic, the personification of Death, the remnants of Voldemort's followers... Soon, the greatest battle in the history of Hogwarts—no, in the history of the Wizarding World—will begin!"
"And my goal is to lead everyone, without exception, into a glorious new era!"
Dumbledore, Fred Weasley, Remus Lupin, Nymphadora Tonks... and all those nameless students and Aurors.
Why should they suffer? Why should ordinary wizards bear such heavy blows and agony the moment evil strikes?
Why should evil be allowed to act so wantonly?
Why?!
"This time, I will change destiny!"
Ethan clenched his fist, a blinding light erupting in his cobalt-blue eyes.
"I will not allow light and justice to be trampled upon. As the Lamp that guides this world, I shall paint the most perfect future!!"
Accompanied by his deafening declaration, a sliver of morning light seemed to be summoned from the edge of the night sky. It spilled across Ethan's brow, crowning him in a brilliant, golden glow.
Both Helena and Professor Slughorn were frozen in place. The old professor's mouth hung open; for perhaps the first time in his life, his power-hungry heart was stirred by mere words alone! It thudded wildly against his ribs.
"Everyone survives... everyone lives..."
Slughorn lowered his head, and before he realized it, tears were streaming down his face. He forced a strained smile and whispered hoarsely:
"Ah... if only you had appeared ten years sooner. How wonderful that would have been."
With such a great and luminous leader present, perhaps Lily wouldn't have had to die.
Slughorn took several deep breaths to compose himself. His fat cheeks set into a look of grim determination. "I will develop that Blood Malediction Potion within two months, Headmaster!"
"I swear it on my family name!"
To hell with 'creepy and terrifying biological experiments'—this was clearly a birth of love and light!
Helena watched the professor, who had gone from skeptical to blindly devoted in an instant, and couldn't help but feel a sense of awe.
...Is this the true power of the Light of Ravenclaw?
Mother, are you happy now?
[It is indeed a grand ambition.]
The corners of Helena's mouth curled into an almost imperceptible smile.
While Hogwarts was in the midst of intense "war preparations," other factions were stirring in the shadows.
The British Ministry of Magic.
BANG!
Minister Scrimgeour had lost count of how many times he had destroyed his own desk. He clawed at his hair, his eyes bloodshot, muttering under his breath:
"Failed again... failed again!!"
"I never expected there to be moles among those Germans. To think they would just hand over a weapon capable of winning the war in a single stroke to Ethan!!!"
"...I should have realized it sooner. Back during the Triwizard Tournament, Ethan was already close with the members from Germany and France... I cannot trust anyone else."
Minister Scrimgeour looked up, staring intently at the Auror standing before him with her hands behind her back.
"The only person I can trust now," he said raspily, "is you."
"Miss Connie Rosier."
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