Snow clung to the windows of Blackthorn Manor like sheets of frost-bitten lace, the biting wind howling softly through the ancient trees that lined the estate. Winter had fully embraced the land, yet within the stone walls of the manor, the air shimmered not with cold—but with magic.
Elias stood in the center of the dueling hall, his wand held loosely in one hand. Before him, several conjured dummies floated in place, encased in layered magical shields. With a quiet breath, Elias flicked his wand, murmuring a powerful spell in a tongue lost to time.
"Trima'Valorash!"
A sphere of pale blue energy burst from his wand, rippling through the air like a living pulse of nature. It struck the first dummy with precision, shattering its shields in a brilliant shower of sparks before blasting the construct backward.
The others fell moments later.
Elias stood still, his expression unreadable as silence returned to the chamber. His magic was sharper now—more reactive, more alive. Since the ritual, he could feel the power flowing inside him with a constant hum, like a second heartbeat. Not wild and uncontrollable as it had been in the first few days after the core expansion, but refined now, honed by hours of practice.
He was stronger. Unquestionably. MC feels his power and estimate his magic reserve to be of expert level now.
But mc wanted to become more stronger as he knows this power is still not enough to fulfil his dreams.
After collecting the dummies with a flick of his wand, Elias moved toward the study tucked behind his private chamber. The moment he entered, the scent of parchment, ink, and faint alchemical oils greeted him like a familiar friend.
On the desk before him lay the Book of Gods, now less mysterious than before—though still, in many ways, untamed.
With the help of several ancient text references and a self-study plan drawn from rare manuscripts, Elias had managed to translate almost half of the book's cryptic content. The process had been painstaking. Each page required careful comparison to multiple dialects of proto-magical script and esoteric rune-based systems. Even so, the effort had been worth it.
The spells he had uncovered were nothing like modern wizardry.
There were invocations of nature's wrath, techniques to summon tempests, earthquakes, and spells tied to ancient spiritual power—rituals used by the ancient magical kings to appear divine. There were fragments of lost soul arts, enchantments that whispered of soul-linking, memory echoing, and even power augmentation drawn from natural ley lines.
And yet… the book still held more. The further he went, the deeper the language twisted, as though the pages themselves grew more resistant. As if the book was testing him.
By summer, Elias thought, his hand gliding over the worn leather cover, I'll have it completely translated. Then… I'll know the truth about you.
He closed the book and secured it in his private shelf, protected by both password enchantments and blood locks. Only he could access it now.
Later that evening, Lucian Blackthorn entered Elias's study with his usual quiet poise. He was already dressed in elegant traveling robes of black and emerald green, the family crest gleaming on his shoulder.
"I'll be leaving for Germany by tomorrow morning," Lucian said, inspecting his gloves. "A political affair, mostly. Old families discussing the recent motions in the ICW. Wilhelm Morgenstern is hosting. I was considering bringing you along."
Elias looked up from his journal. "A chance to meet German purebloods and politicians?"
His father gave a faint smile. "Naturally. But more importantly, a chance to observe how influence shifts across borders. You'll need to understand such things eventually."
Elias leaned back in his chair. "Tempting, but I'll pass this time. I want to keep up with my magical regimen. The more I learn to control this power, the less risk I'll be to myself or others. Besides, I have unfinished work."
Lucian regarded his son for a moment, then gave a short nod. "Very well. I trust your judgment. Though remember—magic is power, yes. But knowledge and alliances are what sustain power in the long term."
"I'll keep that in mind," Elias replied.
A few days passed peacefully, filled with long hours of training and study. It was during one such quiet morning, while sipping spiced tea near the drawing-room window, that a house-elf appeared with a scroll tied in silver ribbon.
"A letter for young master Blackthorn," the elf squeaked before vanishing with a pop.
Elias untied the scroll and immediately recognized the flowing, slightly sharp handwriting.
Elias,
Mother insists you must visit before term begins again. She claims it's been "too long" since the House of Blackthorn has graced our halls.
Father also said it would be good for you to see the new collection in the west wing. Something about "ancient Nord relics" he acquired from the Berlin estate.
Daphne will be here as well. We'll have a few private duels, perhaps even test the new training room Father installed.
Do consider coming.
—Draco
Elias chuckled softly. He could almost imagine Draco's tone—eager, proud, and subtly trying not to sound like he was asking.
Elias replying to Draco letter and telling him that he will visit tomorrow morning.
The next morning, the sun broke lazily over the frost-laced rooftops of Blackthorn Manor. Snow clung to the hedges in neat, sculpted lines, and the air held the kind of cold that made each breath visible like ghostly wisps.
Elias Blackthorn stood in his private study, carefully wrapping a polished, rune-carved obsidian sculpture in silver-embroidered cloth. It was a relic from his family's collection, rumored to have belonged to a Babylonian sorcerer who once served a Sumerian king. Not only was it a powerful protective artifact, but it was rare enough to appeal to Lucius Malfoy's refined tastes. It would make a fine gift.
Apparition.
The magical ability to teleport at will—one of the defining spells of a truly advanced wizard.
It wasn't lost on Elias how often he had to rely on house-elves or other means to travel. Apparition would grant him much-needed autonomy, and it would no doubt become essential in his journey ahead. But he was also aware of its dangers—splinching, misdirection, and worse. The spell demanded not only power but precision, focus, and nerves of steel.
Not yet, he thought to himself. There's still time before I need it. Until then… no need to take risks unnecessarily.
The elf appeared with a shimmer of green magic and mc touch elf hand and disapperared.