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The Black Sea and the isolated island slowly faded into the mist, dissolving layer by layer like the unraveling of an enchanted tapestry.
At first, Ian's mind drifted into the remnants of his dream, but as his senses sharpened, a chill crept across his face, seeping through his skin like a ghostly touch.
Beneath the thin blanket, the night air seeped through the fabric, carrying the crisp bite of the season's change from late autumn to early winter. Slowly opening his eyes, Ian became aware of the muffled sounds outside his window.
Rain lashed against the glass, driven by fierce winds, yet the storm did little to disturb those lost in slumber.
The rhythmic snoring of William and Michael, his two dormitory mates, filled the room. For Ian, such sounds had never been a nuisance; his years at the orphanage had made him more adaptable than most. He rubbed his eyes and glanced at the enchanted clock on the wall.
12:07.
The familiar numbers glowed softly, unchanged, even though Ian was certain he had spent much longer in the Twilight Realm than ever before.
Previously, his visits there had lasted mere moments, but today had been different— he had been drawn into its depths for nearly half a day. He recalled Professor Mara's cryptic words: "Next time will be different."
"Perhaps it has to do with my magical reserves." The only tangible change Ian could identify was that he had eaten the fabled Golden Apple that Pandero had discovered in the Twilight Realm.
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Name: Ian Prince
Occupation: Bloodline Sorcerer
Magic Reserves: Level 8 (Explosive Surge Imminent)
Skills: [Wisdom's Insight (This ability cannot be upgraded)]
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Unnoticed, his magical reserves had advanced overnight. He couldn't precisely gauge his current level, but it was certainly beyond that of most seasoned wizards.
The Golden Apple's effects were undeniably potent.
"The Dark Lord's self-inflicted transformations are perilous, likely because they belong to a branch of magic developed after the Golden Apples had already vanished from existence."
Ian's speculation seemed sound. If consuming a Golden Apple could elevate one's magic to unfathomable heights, who would willingly undertake a dangerous, irreversible transformation upon themselves?
Just look at He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named— his warped existence bore witness to the consequences of unnatural magical alteration. How could such a grotesque metamorphosis compare to the effortless, elegant enhancement granted by the Golden Apple, which neither disfigured the body nor clouded the mind?
If given the choice, no rational wizard would resort to Dark transformations when something far safer had once existed. Ian suspected that human body modification magic had only emerged in the aftermath of the Golden Apple's extinction.
"Professor Mara is truly ruthless. Fortunately, I'm not much better, or my conscience would never allow me to learn from her."
Ian had always been keenly self-aware. He didn't consider himself evil, but he certainly didn't see himself as noble either.
At times, he didn't even recognize just how far removed from normal human behavior he had become.
"Level 8 still isn't the Golden Apple's limit."
The words "Explosive Surge Imminent" remained next to his magic reserves, signifying that his power was still growing— rapidly.
And they would at least increase by one more level.
This was undeniably good news. While his current age didn't demand overwhelming magical prowess, his awakening of the extraordinary trait [Shaping All Things] in the Twilight Realm changed everything.
Gamp's Laws of Elemental Transfiguration no longer bound him. This extraordinary gift allowed him to defy the fundamental rules of magic— creating magical artifacts, multiplying Transfigured objects beyond standard limitations, and more.
Of course, while theoretically possible, conjuring edible food or animating lifeless objects remained constrained by his current proficiency. He could infuse conjured meals with temporary nourishment, but the magical cost was exorbitant.
However, unlike ordinary Transfiguration, once the influence was withdrawn, the food wouldn't vanish or revert. Ian had possibly stumbled upon the edges of perpetual Transfiguration— a phenomenon akin to breaking another law: granting true life to inanimate objects.
Typically, Professor McGonagall could transform a desk into a pig, but once her magic ceased to act upon it, the pig would revert to its wooden state.
Ian, of course, couldn't permanently bestow life. Perhaps not even Rowena Ravenclaw herself could. But he could ensure that Transfigured meat remained as meat, even after a magical attack had struck it. This nudged him closer to the domain of a true Creator, though he still had a long path ahead.
For now, he wasn't about to attempt anything too extreme. Instead, he planned to test two transformations beyond the reach of most wizards.
"Vera Verto!"
Seated at his dormitory desk, Ian waved his wand over his water goblet. Instantly, the cup split into three identical copies before shifting into tiny, squeaking field mice.
Even at Level 5 Transfiguration, they were incredibly lifelike— while not quite as flawless as Professor McGonagall's infamous Animagus demonstration, they were a far cry from mere conjurations.
But the most remarkable feat wasn't their realism. It was their number.
Tripling a Transfigured entity— creating three from one— was something no other wizard could achieve, no matter how advanced their skill.
Of course, for Ian, achieving multiple transformations would exponentially increase the consumption of Magic Power. The more numerous the transformations, the more terrifying the Magic Power consumption would be.
"Vera Verto!"
Little Jerrys kept appearing. When the number reached twenty-four, Ian felt he had reached his limit. His Magic Power's Influence was almost completely released.
"Only twenty-four? Not even seventy-seven? That's disappointing!" As Ian withdrew his [Influence], the group of little Jerrys on the table turned back into a single intact water cup.
The fatigue from Magic Power uses wasn't too severe. It was worth noting that soul transformations were special. Once a soul was twisted, even if the [Influence] was withdrawn, it couldn't return to its original state.
This was why out-of-control transformation products couldn't be reversed. The transformation of Voldemort's remnant soul in the Twilight Zone wouldn't permanently occupy Ian's Magic Power influence.
"Vera Verto!"
Different Transfiguration incantations would affect the utilization of [Magic Influence], determining the difficulty of certain directional transformations.
However, Ian currently only mastered the basic Transfiguration spell, so the conversion efficiency of Transfiguration's [Magic Influence] wasn't high. Still, he managed to transform the water cup once more.
The water cup twisted and turned into a Niffler with a magical pouch. Transforming magical items or even creatures was a form of transfigurative creation that Ian temporarily granted himself with Magic Power.
Normally, the stronger the Magic Power granted, the stronger the transformation creation would be. It was possible to conjure a paper griffin or a Welsh Green, but the large size of a Welsh Green would consume a significant amount of Magic Power.
(To Be Continied…)