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Name: Dev Black's Empire
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"I am Talking."
'I am Thinking'
Spells
Every act of creation is first an act of destruction.
~Pablo Picasso
INNOVATOR
-Dev Sagittarius Black
~~Chapter 23: The Divine Weapons~~
.
'Dodge. Parry. Punch!'
"Yes!"
'Swipe'
'Duck….NOW KICK'
Dodge. Block. 'DAGGER! YESS!'
'Jump back. Bend. Ki-Oh Fuck!'
'SLAM!'
"Fucking Hell!" Harry groaned as he panted on the snow white ground that he laid upon, he dodged another strike from the corpse of a former assassin that was being controlled by Commander Dramox.
"Wait, wait," He tried, "WAI-FUCK! Wait! Time-out! Time-out!" he screamed as he dropped on the ground and raised his arms above his head.
Dramox made a face at that, "Very disappointing," He shook his violet, scale-clad horned head as his eyes analyzed Harry, "And here, I thought that this time you would be able to defeat the assas-"
Just then Harry rolled forward, blocked the assassin's dagger clad arms and kicked it exactly where its solar plexus should have been before he pushed his hand forward and blasted the summoned creature to smithereens.
"You were saying?"
Dramox didn't say anything. His violet eyes just gave a glance to where the assassin once stood before he swiped his hands, the entire construct that had been made for the mortal's practice was cleared.
"So, you went with the path of deceit," The Commander summarized, "Quite surprising. I had hoped that you'd choose the path of confrontation this time."
"I had planned for that," Harry shrugged, "But this was an assassin, direct confrontation has less chances of working against them. And deceit had the maximum output with the least usage of my energy."
"True. What other paths could you have taken to finish the target?" He asked the boy who frowned.
"I mean, all of the eleven paths would have reached the same conclusion. It was just that deceit worked well in this case. If it was a gladiator, I would have used confrontation. If it was a demon, then runes would have been best. And if it was another inferi army, then I would have roasted them with Fiendfyre."
"And what if I had summoned a dog or a leech?" Dramox asked, amused with his…pupil's assessment skills. This was actually a new phase for the Artelean, this was the first time he was actively training a mortal human. Something that he had never done in the eons that he had served as the Commander of the Realm.
"Vampires need a tactical approach of dexterity, agility, and strength, while Werewolves need brute force and a well placed severing hex to their necks," The mage answered, "I would have gone with the seeker path for the Vampires and archer path for the Werewolves."
There was pindrop silence. Harry knew he was correct, so he didn't bother adding up anymore while Dramox thought about the possibilities and whether his first–and maybe only–pupil was ready for his first actual challenge or not.
Harry knew that he had done well. It had been almost two years for him in the realm. And after the first few rough weeks, he had settled as well as he could in a place where he didn't need food, water, sleep, or rest. It was quite an experience to just keep training all the time.
Since the need for food, water, and sleep was being fulfilled by his body, which was under the care of the Health and the Necromancers guilds, he didn't have to do any of those. This left him with plenty of time to practice, shape his body, and train himself. There were times when he almost wanted to give up, but then he remembered that there was no way that Dramox would let him live if he did.
The only way to leave the realms was to lose consciousness. And that had only happened once. Harry still remembered the day like it was only yesterday, despite the fact that it took place about one and half years ago.
That was the first time when he had almost 'slipped-out' of the realm through the crevice as his body had pulled his consciousness almost immediately. And that was also the first time when he had heard his mother.
Dramox said that it was impossible for him to hear his mother as this wasn't the Land of the Resting Souls where the souls rested. But he was sure that it was her and that she was watching over him. He was completely convinced that both his parents and his grandma, Dorea, were watching over him and were always supporting him, even though they didn't have any way of actually showing it.
The fact that they were, was enough for him. HIs loved ones were there. That was more of an encouragement than he needed to live through his training regime that was being overseen by the Artelean being who was the Commander of the realm.
And after that particular incident, Harry never looked back. He went continuously for two years. Cracking the skulls of every creature he faced, be it a human, a monster, or a demon. The Innovator never stopped even once as he forged his path through the bodies.
Dramox made him go through all sorts of things. Threw various creatures from the multitude of races on earth at him. Made him meditate to increase his concentration and connection with his inner self. He even imparted words of wisdom every now and then. They were rare, but they were there.
His mentor even taught him various torture methods that had been used by humans on humans. And a few that were used by demons on humans. They were either methods of punishment or used to extract information.
Personally, Harry preferred a method from each. For punishment he preferred the punishment to be delivered by the hands of those the culprits had harmed. And for information extraction? Well, let's just say that Harry now knew so many methods that there was nothing his victim wouldn't tell if Harry Potter set his mind to extracting it.
But what now? It was almost two years in the realm, two weeks of the outside time which meant it was the first week of January in his home world. Harry looked at the large hourglasses that were floating above him.
He still needed to thank Death for these, because there was no way his brain would have survived the time difference otherwise. One of the hourglasses had finished its work and had vanished, about one year ago. And it looked like the second one was about to join it sometime soon.
The Innovator remembered Death's words from when he had just entered the realm. The entity had told him that after the first two years, there would be a test for him at the end of each year. A test, which would determine whether he was capable enough to proceed to the next phase of his training.
There was a tinkling chime that echoed throughout the realm. Both Harry and Dramox looked towards the second hourglass as it finished pouring the black sand and then vanished. This signified the end of the innovator's second year in training.
"It seems that the moment of truth is finally here, Harry Potter," Dramox said in his usual calm yet bored demeanor, "I will admit that I am quite curious as to how you shall fare against the tests that the lord has prepared for you."
"And I am more than ready for these tests," Harry smirked, "So? What's my first test?"
"From today, at the end of every year, you shall be tested against three of the strongest weapons that any mortal has ever been able to wield," Dramox announced and he forwarded his hand to show the black and golden mist that was slowly taking shape.
"Today, you will face the weakest of the three, it's called, The Aatank!" The commander's announcement was punctuated by a gurgling loud roar that would have made any other mortal piss in their pants.
"Aatank?" asked Harry, "Do I get to know something about it, other than the name?"
"You are taking this quite well for someone who is about to face one of the strongest weapons that a mortal could wield. If you are thinking that this will be easy, then let me assure you that it will be one of the most terrifying and excruciatingly hard battles that you have ever fought."
"I am not saying that I will win," Harry shook his head, "But the problem is, I have to," The green eyed mage told his mentor, "Which means, either I win, or I lose the world and the reason I am doing everything for."
"And for that, I wish you all the luck that you have been granted, Harry Potter," said the Artelean, "Now each of the weapons have a weakness. As for Aatank, it's a weapon that is heavily based on blasts and brute power. Land is your enemy, as are the periodically released fireballs that it spits from its mouth. You will have to defeat the weapon into submission by chopping its body into several pieces so that Aatank is truly defeated once and for all."
Harry nodded and closed his eyes. He thought about all the faces that were close to him. His mom, Daphne, Blaise, Fleur, Sirius, Cho. His mom's voice echoed in his mind. Her love and support, the promise he had made her and how he intends to keep it until his very last breath.
The apprentice of Death released a deep breath as he opened his eyes and glared at his enemy. The third most powerful weapon that a mortal could wield: The Aatank….or as it was also known, Terror.
The twenty-foot-tall weapon snarled at Harry, flailing both of its thick muscular arms as it spat fire balls that blasted on contact with the ground.
Furious green eyes met the fiery golden ones.
It was time to defeat Terror.
"The boy's health hasn't shown any particular changes, headmaster," said the matron as she flicked her wand once more, causing the flickering lights over Alandale Potter's prone self to disappear.
"What do you think could be the reason?"
"I am not entirely sure, but it's my assumption that after his last episode with magic about a week ago–the night of the Ball. Alan's magic has stopped fighting and instead it has decided to work on healing the boy like it should. There have been absolutely no transpositions, and his magic is constantly working to keep his body in prime."
"That is a good thing," Dumbledore sighed, "We don't know what might have caused that mishap, or why, but it is good that his magic as well as his condition seem to be more stable now than it had been when he had been brought. Do you mind if I perform a few scans of my own, Poppy?"
The matron frowned a bit but shook her head, "Go ahead."
"I assure you, it will not take time," The chief warlock smiled as he pulled his wand out and began scanning Alan's scar. He suspected that Alan's magic had been fighting against the external possession, therefore he was quite worried. 'If what Poppy said is true, then the boy is either still struggling or Tom has taken control of his body'
The scans showed him a different result, he frowned and began the procedure once more. This time with more details, he needed to be sure that what he was perceiving was true.
Again, the scans showed the same thing; Alandale's body had only one soul in it. The scar was empty and there was minute amounts of dark magic left inside the boy's core. As if it was some sort of residue. The amount was much lower than the last time he had scanned the boy's core and scar.
There was only one conclusion with the results. And as much as Albus wanted to believe it, it was almost impossible to actually trust the fact that Alandale Potter, the boy who had been needed saving time and again by his elder brother.
The same brother who had left all of his work and was actually devising a ritual to successfully extract the horcrux from his brother without killing him. And was currently comatose under the care of two international guilds.
That Alandale Potter had somehow defeated and destroyed the horcrux that was residing inside him. It was a surreal statement. And a fool's hope to even think that it was possible, and yet the results said the same thing even after the fifth scan.
"Well….that is unprecedented," He muttered and left the hospital wing, leaving a confused healer in his wake.
Dumbledore entered his office and sighed. He was indeed getting too old for these things. Sadly, as long as Harry was in a coma, he couldn't think of anyone else that would be of any help in these situations.
Alan's case had taken a really weird turn, something that he hadn't known would have been possible. To tell the truth, he was still suspicious of the result that told him the boy had defeated and 'somehow' destroyed another one of Tom's horcruxes without any further involvement from anyone else.
He really needed Harry now. If only the boy was here, Dumbledore could have simply taken both of them to an empty field and revived Alandale. That way, if Tom's soul was the one residing in the boy, then Harry could have defeated him and, if it was actually Alan's soul, then the scans would have been much more accurate since they work way better on a conscious and awake person than a comatosed one.
There was a soft trill from the corner and he reached to pet the bird, "I know, my friend, I know. I am the one who has to make sure that everything is going in the correct direction, but sometimes I just wish I could get an easy retirement. Away from all of this hogwash."
He fed the bird a few seeds that he was fond of having, "Sadly, such is the weight of knowledge and power, one has to use them most responsibly or they just might end up wrecking the world around them, leaving a trail of chaos in their shadows."
The aged warlock moved to his chair and flicked open the drawer that once held the resurrection stone. This time, there was another leather bag that was placed in it, and it held another artifact but one with the same curse as that of the stone.
This was the Cup of Hufflepuff which his former student and current guest, Narcissa Malfoy, had used to barter a deal with him in return for her, and her son's, safety. Therefore, right now Hogwarts was the safe zone for her and her son. A place where the both of them could live and breathe the terror-free atmosphere that permeated their own home.
'If Harry's calculation is correct, and Tom had indeed split his soul into seven parts, then…' Dumbledore made a quick calculation, 'Harry destroyed the diary in Alan's second year, the stone was probably destroyed or used by the Necromancer's guild, Tom used the snake for his resurrection, I have the cup and I am unsure about Alan…so that leaves…' the old man's eyes widened when he reached the conclusion.
'Two more. And this includes the one that was in Hogwarts. The same one that was forcibly taken from Draco Malfoy by Tom's spy who is in Hogwarts, and is probably already in his possession…or maybe not?'
Claps resounded around him and Harry looked up from the last piece of the monster that he had chopped. True to Dramox's statement, Aatak was indeed one of the strongest foes that he had ever had to battle against.
The fact that the beast had arms as thick as old tree trunks combined and the power to spit fireballs that blasted on contact didn't help him. The innovator had been pushed to his extremes with this one. But then Harry had timed the periodical blasts, their trajectory, and how the gravity affected it.
Sometimes, instead of blasting right away, the fireballs diffused and turned into freaking landmines. That was when he remembered Dramox' second bit of advice of land being his enemy. Surprisingly enough, it only took him a week to finally chop the beast's right arm.
After that had been done, Harry saw the arm regenerate. But that wasn't a problem for the mage because now he had cracked the code. He knew how to finally defeat the Terror. And so, after four hours of that realization, here he stood.
Amid the torrents of magic that were released from the chopped pieces of the third most powerful weapon that a mortal could wield.
"That was quite a show," Dramox announced, his thick scale covered tail waved lazily behind him, "I was sure that you would take at least two more weeks to come to that conclusion."
"I will take that as a compliment from you."
"Don't. Compliments are sweet words you mortals use to hide your insecurities or when you need something from someone," The Artelean clarified, "I don't have the desire for either, I merely stated a fact."
Harry shook his head, he had thought that he was the one who was thick when it came to talking to someone, guess he was wrong. Well, it wasn't like he had anything to complain about, he was getting what he came here for and that was what mattered more. He could practically feel the difference between his current and past self, and it shook his mind as to how weak he had been.
Yes he was head and shoulders above the student population, and maybe the average wizarding population too, but right now, he was probably at par with titan-mages like Dumbledore. Something that he took pride in.
"This brings us to the most important part of this test."
"The start of my next phase of training?" Harry's sarcasm fell flat on the commander who shook his head.
"That will be done later, for now…" He waved his hand and all the pieces of the weapon that Harry had just destroyed started revolving around them, creating a tornado with the two beings at the epicenter of it all.
"Wh-What are you doing?" Asked the mage. He was worried that maybe his mentor was trying to bring the monster back to life. Fortunately, that wasn't the case and it was proven when Dramox snapped his fingers that sucked the golden energy that each of the pieces held.
The energy accumulated to form a huge golden ball that floated a head above Harry in a mesmerizing display of magical waves.
"What is this?" Asked the innovator.
"This is the true energy of the weapon, this is the weapon," His mentor answered, "It was given a shape and form for you to be able to combat and probably defeat, which you did. And now, this is yours."
"I see…wait-what?!" Harry asked him, surprised when he registered the last statement, "What do you mean this is mine?"
"Just what I said, Harry Potter," Dramox said slowly, as if speaking to a toddler, "You successfully defeated the weapon, now the weapon is yours to use as you have established your dominance over it."
"Really?"
"Indeed, but you will have to be cautious," Dramox told him as he released his hold on the glowing golden core of Aatank, which immediately started to descend towards Harry, "There are only three rules to using all of the divine weapons; First is, you have to specifically order them who you want dead and who you want to save."
Harry nodded as he watched the ball of light be slowly absorbed inside his chest, giving him a golden glow.
"Second is, you will not be able to use any of the divine weapons in the Realm of Death, it's useless to even try. And last, the most important rule, the weapons work on a 'number of defeats' basis, therefore, since you have only defeated it once, you can only use it once."
"So let me get this correct, I cannot use it here, I will have to give strict orders on who to kill and who to spare, and I only have one chance to use it, right?"
"Indeed. After the first use, the weapon will be free from its debt to you, and will return to its original place."
Harry bobbed his head, "Alright, that is not a bad deal, I can work with something like this. It will be a big help against Voldemort and his army," he said as he cracked his knuckles and grinned, "So, when am I getting my chance against other divine weapons?"
"First let us begin with the next phase of your training," announced the commander of the realm.
"By all means."
"Do you think she will agree to this?"
"I don't think so, she will probably laugh at us."
"But you were the one who said-"
"I said 'if' she agrees, we will have a really powerful ally which would help your cause," She answered, "I am not sure she will, she needs to get something out of it to even remotely consider it."
"Then why are we here, Beaufort?"
"Because she is our best shot, Greengrass," Beaufort bit back, "We are fortunate that Malfoy didn't run back to You-Know-Who this break. And both of us are stuck with the problem of making a deal with Dumbledore, she is the only one that I know could even remotely be of any help."
"Good point, I am just glad Pansy couldn't keep her mouth shut about how happy she was that her boyfriend was staying here with her for the holidays," Daphne replied as the two girls stood in front of the black-painted door with a golden plaque on it.
She knocked on it twice and patiently waited for the door to open. Fortunately, she didn't have to wait long to hear the 'click' as the resident of the suite opened the door.
"Oh my, this is certainly quite a surprise," She smiled, her dark red lips falling into a smirk as she welcomed her visitors inside. "So, what brings my two friends to my doorstep this evening?"
Ashley Petrovia would have to admit, what came next wasn't something that she had expected in her wildest dreams.
After some time, the three girls sat around the coffee table that was in Ashley's suite. Said girl frowned at her visitors as if analyzing how she should take the news and what to do about the new variable.
"So, let me get this straight, you mean to say that the man who terrorized Britain, and is said to be one of the strongest dark lords in history, is back and you two 'somehow' possess something that he wants, right?" Ashley inquired with the duo who agreed.
"And you want my help with-what again?"
"Why are you playing this game, Petrovia?" Angelique interrupted with an angry undertone, "We all know you are smart enough to understand our situation, and what we want. Why don't you just give us your response and be done with it."
"I am more curious as to how you, of all people, were dumb enough to be caught up in all this. I guess I shouldn't be surprised, you were never the sharpest tool in the shed anyway." Ashley smirked at the French diva who glared at her.
"Now, as for why I want to know something?" She shrugged, "I am bored, and there is nothing exciting to do until Harry returns from wherever he is."
Harry's name brought a fierce glint in Daphne's eyes, something that both the girls noticed. Ashley was a bit confused with the reaction because as far as she had seen, the Greengrass heiress was called the 'Ice Queen' by her fellow classmates. A person who never dated a boy, no matter who he was. And the only people she was seen associating with were her friend and her sister.
'Perhaps there is indeed more to the picture than I have been able to perceive,' Ashley thought as she put the knowledge for future use.
Angelique, on the other hand, knew full well the lengths Daphne would go to when Harry Potter was brought into the equation. The Greengrass heiress had yet to share the reasons as to why she was so fond of the eldest Potter, but one thing was clear: there was an entirely different side of Slytherin's ice queen when the Innovator's name was mentioned.
A side that she, Angelique Beaufort, had no desire to witness for an entire lifetime.
"I don't think any of this should consider the elder Potter, or his return from wherever he is," Daphne said in a clipped tone, "What we want from you is your brains on the matter at hand. I need a way to barter a deal with Dumbledore. Something that would keep us and our families safe from both the sides of war."
"And what I am waiting for, is the part where you tell me 'why' I should help you," The Durmstrang champion smiled, "As far as I am concerned, I am just a champion from a school that will win the Tournament, bring prestige to my school and my name, and then will be off to my career in a country which is far away from a soon-to-be war plagued one."
"You think that he will stay quiet once he takes over Britain?" Daphne sneered, "Sooner than you think, war will be at your borders too. He is a Dark Lord, there is nothing in the world that would satiate his thirst for power."
"Is this your attempt to get me to sign-up for your little 'girl-power-gang'?" Ashley laughed, "You really think I would fall for this stupid propaganda?" She laughed some more and wiped a fake tear.
"Oh you poor girl, let me tell you something," She took a deep breath, "Bulgaria is thousands of miles away from Britain, your dark lord will have to successfully conquer about twenty countries before he is even able to think of conquering Bulgaria, and I am really sure that the moment he steps foot out of his homeland, the ICW will consider him a threat and immediately discharge the Mage Task Force against him. He will be finished before he reaches Germany, much less Bulgaria."
There was pin-drop silence after Ashley finished her statement. Daphne frowned at the girl–no woman, because there was no way a simple girl could play with words like Petrovia was playing.
Daphne knew that what the Durmstrang champion had said was true, but this was something that she hadn't imagined that Petrovia would know of. It was indeed a mistake on her part, as she had assumed that Petrovia would be as easy to sway as Beaufort had been.
Daphne knew she shouldn't have painted both Beaufort and Petrovia with the same brush of negligence and stupidity, something that was probably going to become the reason for ending this fruitless talk.
"So you are assured of that fact, since you are enjoying immunity from you-know-who because of the distance and the ICW, right? What about your headmaster, it's a well known fact that he used to be a Death Eater under the Dark Lord's services." Daphne threw another attempt to sway Petrovia.
"Yes-yes, the Death Eater who gave names of several of his comrades, something that granted him a pardon from the ministry while giving him shame and death threats from said comrades," She smirked, "Karkaroff isn't a well-liked headmaster, and his position as the headmaster of the Institute gives his location. I won't be surprised if someday we come to know that someone infiltrated the institute and killed him, he probably deserves it anyway."
"Let's go Daphne, I told you she won't help us," Beaufort stood up from her seat, "She probably doesn't know how to do anything, anyway."
"Do what? A simple deal about protection for the artifact? Please, we both know that it would be harder for me to shoot a stunner than do that."
"Then why don't you?" Daphne asked, "If you are worried that we would snitch you in this then be assured-"
"Oh I know you won't. Your concern, even though noted, isn't needed, as we both know that your silence with my name is a given," Ashley said condescendingly.
"What is it that you need from us? And don't say nothing, there is always something that we need, something that we can't get ourselves. So tell me, Petrovia, what is your price?"
Ashley smirked at Daphne, this was refreshing. The world –as she knew it– was a droll existence. A place that she neither had to work for, nor work out. A smile here and a sway there, combined with some beautifully twisted thorns, would get anything she wanted. Things that she didn't get that way, were usually settled with money.
And no one refused money.
Her methods had worked perfectly. She always got what she wanted, always…except when it came to one person. The same man who had rebuffed her, time and again, for things that others would probably sell themselves for.
"I want information."
"Information?" Daphne frowned, "On what?"
"Not what, who. I want to know the lesser known things, things that others do not know about the one name that got a reaction even from one such as yourself, who is widely proclaimed as the 'Ice Queen'," Ashley leaned forward, she could see that the younger girl had reached the correct conclusion.
"Do you mean-"
"Yes, I want to know about Harry Potter," the Durmstrang champion smiled, "Everything that you know, and your relation with him."
It would have been fair to say that Daphne Greengrass and Angelique Beaufort left the room after some time. Their talk had been fruitless, as Ashley had been as much of a help as Peeves the poltergeist.
Worse was the fact that Ashley's words had ruined Daphne's mood even more, something that made Beaufort groan as she knew that the younger girl would probably vent out her frustrations by dueling against her. She really needed to know what was so important about one man that would completely turn a calculative mind like Daphne's into a nesting mother dragon.
'Just why couldn't my life be anything simple for once?!' Angelique thought as she followed Daphne up the staircases and towards the room of requirement.
"My Lord, he is here," Bellatrix announced as she went to open the door and allowed him inside.
The person who entered immediately gulped at the tense atmosphere of the throne room. He knew his family was made of stuck-up idiots, but to be this much of an idiot? How could they! Still, the man knew that he had to answer his lord, even if he was not the one who did anything wrong.
"Maste-"
"Crucio!"
Lucius Malfoy screamed in pain as he writhed on the carpeted floor of the throne room. He already knew that he would be on the receiving end of the Dark Lord's cruciatus, but knowing it beforehand most certainly did not mean that he was prepared for it.
Voldemort, on the other hand, glared at the writhing form of Malfoy senior as he poured more and more of his anger to strengthen the spell. He was at the end of his patience levels now. There was no way that he would leave the culprits unpunished.
Still, he relented a bit, not because he was suddenly feeling generous, or merlin be damned pitiful, over Lucius Malfoy no. He relented only because he needed news. He wanted to know why, exactly why a simple task of retrieval was taking so long.
He had sent Draco Malfoy before yule and the boy should have been here during the winter holidays. Now, January was coming to an end and he knew neither about the Malfoys nor anything about his horcrux that the boy was sent to retrieve.
"So Lucius, I presume you have something to tell us?" Voldemort sneered at the blonde man, who was panting for air, as he slowly got up from his prone position on the floor.
"Ye-Yes, My Lord," Malfoy gasped, "I have already sent letters to both Draco and Narcissa, day before yesterday regarding..regarding their delay."
"And what did they say?"
"My dearest sister, Cissy, says that Dumbledore suspects foul play in her presence at Hogwarts, and is therefore searching her and Draco's belongings every time they try to leave the school." Bellatrix chimed from his right, "She says that she is bartering a deal with the old fool to let her go."
"The old coot is too kind to do something like this, and even if he did, there are about ten secret passages that can take anyone out from Hogwarts," Voldemort growled, "You are telling me that neither Narcissa, Draco, nor anyone they know inside Hogwarts knows of these passages?"
"I-I asked them, My Lord," Lucius interrupted, "I even told them about the three that I knew of, but yesterday Narcissa's letter tells us that due to the tournament, there is additional security inside the castle. Each and every corridor, as well as the common room doors, are patrolled by aurors and hitwizards after the debacle of the first task."
Voldemort slammed his fist on the side table, making the things placed on it rattle before they fell, "I do not care how they do it! I have been waiting for a month now, there is no way your wife and son can be so incompetent as to not smuggle a simple artifact with them. And if their belongings are being inspected then tell them to send it with someone else, they can come after that."
"I will, My Lord," Lucius immediately agreed, "I will do my best to make sure that the artifact is brought to you by tomorrow. Cornelius is going to inspect the school to ensure that there is no hindrance in the conduction of the second task, which will be conducted in February. I will join him. There is no way that the old fool will even suspect Cornelius, or his entourage, of carrying something remotely dubious."
"Make sure that you do, Lucius," the Dark Lord hissed, "Or you know the price of failure."
Malfoy gulped and tried his best to show his agreement, "Indeed, My Lord," He bowed, "If there is nothing else, Master?"
"There is."
Lucius blinked at that, he had thought that he would be sent away with this, "Anything for you, Master."
"It has been some time since I had an audience," Voldemort hummed, "I have heard that you have been a loyal member of 'The Council' for more than half a decade now, is that true?"
"Indeed, Master," Lucius gulped, "Bu-but, is it wise to get involved with them? I-I don't think we have anything that they would be interested in…especially after the last time."
"Lucius…" Voldemort hissed in warning and smiled when the blonde Lord got the hint. He knew that if his lord had made up his mind, then there was no way that he could sway it anyways. Not unless he did what he wanted and saw the results himself.
"I am not asking you to teach me about the past, the past is not something we should dwell in," Voldemort added, "I want you to use your connections to garner an audience with the Council. Tell them that Lord Voldemort is back, and this time he intends to stay for another eternity to come."
"Understood, My Lord," Lucius bowed, "I will contact the Council's spokesperson, and will immediately let you know their response the moment it arrives."
With this, the Malfoy Lord left the throne room, his mind swirling with memories regarding the international organization and their past dealings with it.
'The Council of Paragons', or 'The Council' in general, was a small group of ten highly influential and ancient families. The Council had been founded about nine centuries ago for reasons still unknown to him. What is known is the fact that, together the members hold about ten percent of the total wealth of the world.
Each of the families are given an area that comes under their jurisdiction. They are shadow monarchs of those areas. And they are the highest level of authority that one could have in those areas.
For the world, they showed themselves to be normal humans who never did anything that would upset the law or the government, but Lucius knew that each of the ten families in the Council were like the law themselves, they did not need any rights or powers over anything. Not because they didn't want it, it was more because they didn't need it.
The Council was a shadow organization with maximum power that worked on international levels, no one knew the Council's real power, or how many people worked for them, but one thing was quite clear. If the council wanted something done, there was almost nothing that could ever stop it.
During the last war, when his lord was on the rise, the Council had contacted him. They had offered him a seat of power with their ranks, access to vast amounts of knowledge, man-power, and resources that one just couldn't get anywhere else.
In return, they would be getting absolute control over a country as prestigious as Great Britain, something that added a really powerful kingdom under their command. It wasn't a favor, more like a deal between The Council and the Dark Lord. The Morte Tower was also made to establish the Council's rule over Britain, and was supposed to act as his lord's headquarters.
Unfortunately, Lord Voldemort's defeat at the hands of a toddler wasn't something any of them had expected. The backlash had been immediate as the Council pulled back all of its funding, resources, and man-power. They even went on a hunt to decimate the one who had caused this.
That had been the reason why the Potters had been targeted almost a decade ago. The team had been sent to kidnap Alandale Potter. Unfortunately, the boy had been out with his grandmother, the late Lady Dorea Potter who had later died when The Council had razed the Potter Manor to finish everything that the Potters had.
Fortunately, the team didn't return empty handed, they knew the consequences of doing so. Therefore, that was the time when Lily and Harry Potter had been captured and placed in the Morte Tower as captives.
Dumbledore took precautions regarding the Boy-Who-Lived's safety, and sent him to live with the Weasleys under the Fidelius. That severely pushed back the Council's attempt for revenge on the youngest Potter.
Something that they delightfully took out on the elder one. After a few years, when his relation with the minister, and the ministry by extension, was solidified, he had applied to get an audience with the Council, whereby he had successfully integrated himself in the Council as they recognised his power within the ministry.
Unfortunately, it was the day of his joining that the Morte Tower had a feast in his honor, something that gave one of the traitor guards an opportunity to free Harry Potter from the cells. Something that the Council regretted almost four years later when said boy went on carnage and massacred ninety–four wizards, as well as torched the tower so that it could never be rebuilt again, not unless they wanted to spend a huge amount of gold.
Lucius still had nightmares regarding what he had witnessed that night. It was only through his intellect that he had not only managed to run away from the monster, but also safeguard his family to date. He still thanked his lucky stars, as, if not for that unbreakable vow, he was sure that the Malfoy line would have ended years ago.
The only drawback was that he wasn't allowed to tell anyone, including the Council, that it was Harry Potter who had killed everyone and destroyed the Morte Tower. Something that the Council didn't appreciate. In their view, Britain had been the most fruitless venture of theirs, something that they didn't wish to live through for a couple of centuries at the very least.
And now, his lord wanted an audience with them once more.
Lucius shook his head tiredly, there was nothing he could do to divert the Dark Lord's thoughts once he had set them to gain something. The elder Malfoy only wished that this time they would gain more than they lost.
When he looked back on his stay here, Harry knew that he had learned many things. Things that he knew weren't possible to learn in the Realm of the Living. Dramox had been a strict mentor, pushing him past his limits every single day. By now, he didn't know how many creatures he had slaughtered, he had stopped counting after his first twenty-thousand and that was two years ago.
It wasn't that the commander only taught him to kill creatures of earth. After the first few months, Harry learned that since Death was a multiversal entity, the plane in which he trained with Dramox, as well as the Realm of Death, was made up of creatures from different universes.
Something that he later learned the hard way, by facing many weird creatures from different earths and planets in different universes.
Last year, he had also defeated and gained the allegiance of the second strongest weapon that a mortal could wield: The Parmanu or, as it was also known, 'The Unit of Existence, itself'.
After his battle with Aatank had ended, his Artelean commander had proceeded to teach him the art of flying. At first Harry had been skeptical, because the human body wasn't made for that sort of thing. The anatomy required was just not possible to be incorporated with the delights of avian nature.
His doubts had been followed by detailed explanation on the uniformity of magic and its usage in transforming your 'magical' self. He still hadn't been able to completely map this entire theory as Dramox only gave him the small part that was required.
The explanation had followed with a small example where the commander, complete with his heavy, purple scales and thick tail, had folded his huge, bat-like wings and floated as if he was made of helium and gave a display of incredible maneuverability in the air without the use of his wings.
After that, Harry had learned the art of flight, even though it took him a few months of constant struggle. Then, for the first time, he faced creatures and fought battles in air. It was definitely a lot easier than what he had done on land. Which gave rise to the question of 'Why hadn't Dramox taught this to him earlier?'
Answer? Dramox had shrugged and muttered the three magical words: 'You weren't ready'.
And although he had learned the art of flight, it had not been that efficient in his battle against the red monster that was Parmanu.
Facing Parmanu was like facing a living, breathing giant made of molten lava and had the power to shape shift anything into anything. Its biggest asset was its ability of self destruction. If one somehow got near enough, Parmanu would immediately turn itself into a self-destructing, angry beast and would blast every single thing in a predetermined periphery. Anything that came in contact with the heat was immediately turned to nothing. There was not even ashes left.
The four pairs of arms as well as its five glowing red eyes gave it the ultimate situational awareness, and it had the dexterity to dodge as well as fight back. It was a miracle that Harry had cracked the code of defeating the weapon after fighting with it continuously for only a month.
He had perfectly timed the weapon's self-destruct blast and had proceeded to force the weapon to fight at that exact same moment, something that had created instability in the Unit of Existence causing the blast to go inside itself. The energy hadn't found a way to be unleashed like usual, which had caused the weapon to be blasted from inside.
And that was how Harry gained the allegiance of the second most powerful weapon that a mortal could wield. Unfortunately, Dramox later told him, "Since Parmanu has a million different uses, being the Unit of Existence itself, if someone defeats it, they only gain the power of which they used to defeat it."
Therefore, since he had defeated Parmanu with its self-destructive power, Harry had the power to self-destruct himself once and destroy everything in a perimeter that he set. But like Parmanu, he would remain unharmed through it all. It was like carrying a bomb in himself that would protect him but would kill everyone in a set range.
There was a soft chime that made the Innovator sigh. It was the fourth one, and he opened his eyes just in time to see the fourth giant hourglass vanish. His fourth year had ended. Four long years, that was time he had spent in the Realm of Death.
In the real world, he assumed that it would probably be nearing the end of January. Which meant his physical body had been in a coma for a month now.
"Open your eyes, Harry Potter," Dramox announced, "It is time for you to face the most powerful weapon that a mortal can wield."
Harry slowly opened his eyes, he was as ready as he could be. This was the strongest weapon that he could wield, and he couldn't wait to see the landscape changing powers that this one would have.
"I am ready."
"Indeed, and so is the weapon," Dramox forwarded his hand, and the mortal mage followed it to witness a serene looking creature. He couldn't say that it was a monster, for once the weapon wasn't attacking him on sight.
The weapon was blue and black in color, it had several root-like branches sprouting from its head and moving upwards to form a hallow. Three glowing blue eyes, and a glowing blue heart in the center. Two pairs of arms and a pair of wings that sprouted from its back, depicting the weapon's ability to fly.
Despite the fact that Harry knew it was a weapon, the serene face and energy around it made it more like a benevolent being who was just waiting patiently.
"Wondering why it isn't attacking you on sight like the previous two?"
Harry nodded, "Yeah, it's like the weapon doesn't want to fight at all."
"And it won't unless you attack it first, this is the one weapon that you can't defeat. Not only you, there isn't anyone who can ever defeat it."
"What?!" exclaimed Harry, "Then why am I fighting it? How am I supposed to gain its allegiance?"
"You won't fight the weapon either, the only way to gain its allegiance is when the weapon decides that you have what it takes to have it in your arsenal. For this is not a normal weapon, Harry Potter, you will soon be going against The Tandavam or as it is also known, 'The Dance of Destruction'."
"The what? Dance?" Harry asked in confusion.
"Indeed, but not a simple dance that you might have thought," Dramox clarified, "The Dance of Destruction is exactly what it says. Everytime the weapon's legs hit the surface a new monster is born, and every new monster is more powerful than its predecessor."
Harry gulped when he looked at the blue and black weapon, now looking at it in a new light. This was indeed the most dangerous power that one could have. Creating monsters non-stop and each would be stronger than the one before. A terrifying power indeed.
"You will keep fighting monsters created by the Tandavam. And this shall go on until either you give-up and die or the weapon deems you worthy enough and blesses you with its allegiance."
"But there is no definite time for that?" Harry inquired from his mentor who shook his head.
"No, Tandavam judges everything that you have; your resilience, strength, abilities, will-power. There is absolutely nothing that escapes its judgment. It is even said that this is the only weapon that has the power to visualize your past, present, and future all at once. And once it comes to conclusion, the weapon then either decides to kill you or it heals you and grants you its allegiance."
"Do you have the power of Tandavam?"
"I do not," the Artelean answered, "I have never tested myself against the Tandavam. I have had neither the need nor the urge to face it. And therefore, I have yet to face it on my own. You have the choice of denying it too, neither me nor my master would force you to fight against a weapon as powerful and devastating as the Tandavam."
For a moment Harry wanted to agree. He already had two of the most powerful weapons, he had years of experience and had mastered a multitude of branches in various fields that a simple human, or any creature could not even dream of.
But that had been just a fool's thought that resided within him for a fleeting moment. The Innovator knew the risks of facing Tandavam, but the benefits were way beyond human comprehension. They were much more than what the earlier divine weapons gave him.
Having the allegiance of Tandavam was like having an entire army with you. An army that was made of unlimited creatures, each stronger than its predecessor. Something that would definitely help him, if, by some chance, he is unable to kill Voldemort in time and unable to close the Crevice of Creation.
The mortal, who was arguably the most powerful mortal on earth, closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He released it as he thought about everything. Finally he opened his eyes, and instead of the usual emeralds, they were glowing silver. Meaning he had activated his Runes of Potentia.
Apparently Dramox sensed the change in his student too, "So I take it, you have made up your mind, then?"
"Beyond a doubt," Harry promised, "Let's see how it goes."
Ending Note: And there you have it fellas, chapter of INNOVATOR. Do tell me if you liked it or if it needed any improvements.
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