"So you are saying there is nothing more to teach me?" my former student, Maria, asked anxiously, her hands fidgeting with her handkerchief. "But I do not know so much yet, Teacher!" she exclaimed with excitement.
I smiled at her. "Understand, Maria, a true magician or scientist never stops learning. I have made you into a mage who can be safely called a master in the fields of healing and maleficence, dark magic, blood magic, flesh magic, dreamwalking, astral magic, and mental magic, as well as apprenticed you in over a dozen other magical arts. In the thirty years of our training, I have provided you with a solid foundation and comprehensive understanding of magic in its entirety, not just in its various branches. Now, you are free to pursue the path of your own development."
In the year 1570, I had already attained the rank of master in all the magical guilds in Europe, which was my primary objective, as it allowed me access to their libraries.
Over the years, Maria had grown into a delightful girl, a beautiful and charming young woman, with a graceful figure and refined features. Her face was like an angel's, and she possessed a powerful magical gift. Even now, at the age of forty, she appears to be no more than twenty. And she will continue to look the same way for another hundred years.
But she still harbours feelings for me. I cannot say whether it is due to her familial ties or innate personality traits, but she is a cat. At first, I thought that her shy platonic sentiments would dissipate without my reciprocation. However, they did not. She is utterly enamored with me.
I have never offered her anything more than a peck on the forehead or cheek, which was her birthday present. She had hoped for a kiss on the lips, but I did not wish to fan the flames of her affection. Why should I? To whom else could she be attracted, and to whom could she turn her attentions? After all, there is no one who could compare with me in any respect. I am not a narcissist. Nevertheless, if one were to judge me objectively, I would be considered a handsome man, an erudite husband, and one of the strongest and most renowned magicians in contemporary Europe.
Moreover, I am a historical figure of almost mythical proportions. Nonetheless, my apprentice is aware of my middle name. My presence overshadowed every other potential suitor for Maria's hand in marriage, as chosen by her father. After she turned twenty-eight, the matter was dismissed with the words, "Let fate decide," leaving her to make her own choices.
By the time of her graduation, I had already prepared a gift, which I kept in a dimensional pocket that had expanded to twenty cubic meters.
"But how will you fare now? What of me? I do not wish to part ways with you, Master," she said, her voice fading to a whisper.
Thus, I saw only one solution: to either grant her freedom or offer us the opportunity for a strong bond.
Maria, I do not mean to say goodbye forever. I am aware of your feelings, which have not been a secret to anyone for long. All of Venice knows that you are in love with me. Therefore, listen carefully, my dear.
I am immortal, capable of living forever, unless, of course, something interrupts my existence. My future wife must also be immortal, as I desire a happy and enduring family. You now have all the necessary prerequisites for achieving true immortality. With continued development, you could achieve it in three centuries. I have nurtured you in every aspect. Your astral and sensual spirits, mental faculties, and magical intuition are all equally advanced. Four of your six layers are now beyond the master level. Once at least three of these layers surpass the Archimage stage, or one reaches the level of a High Magician, you need not fear death from old age. Should your feelings remain unchanged by then, they shall be reciprocated.
Alas, as I gazed into her eyes ablaze with fanaticism, imbued with unwavering faith and determination, I realized that she would achieve immortality and find me even beyond the realm of this world. There is no escape from her now. I cannot evade the pursuit of one so skilled in the art of tracking. Ha, who am I fooling? I have been nurturing her as my ideal partner since the day we met. All that remains is to bide my time and reap the fruits of my labor.
"Do you give me your promise, Svyatozar?"
"Have I ever deceived you, Marie-Françoise Badoer?" I responded with a question of my own.
She grinned with a predatory edge, her fangs seemingly sharpening as she connected with Koneko's essence. "Then you cannot escape our clutches!"
In approximately a century's time, she will become a werewolf. Why did she use the word "us"? It is because her surname has the ability to transform into a human form for fifteen years. However, she is not yet a Neko, as her cat ears and tail remain intact. This adorable feline shares the same sentiments towards me as its owner.
Maria frequently sent her cat to seek solace in my embrace, seeking affection. As a result, Konecki became fixated on my emotions towards her. This was a reciprocal bond. Whenever I touched or caressed Maria, her emotions resonated deeply with Koneko, creating a profound imprint. Now, Koneko experiences similar feelings towards me as she did towards her owner.
Koneko appears to be a thirteen-year-old girl with striking features: fiery red hair, deep sapphire eyes, and dark skin, likely inherited from her father Ifrit. I presented her with a gift box, which I summoned from my dimensional pocket. This gift was intended for both Koneko and herself. I must now depart to meet with Cardinal Amati, who requested my presence before my departure.
Three vials of the elixir, Dawn of the Dark Sun, were contained within the box. These vials would ensure that my student would not be concerned about her health or appearance, allowing her to dedicate the next three centuries towards her personal growth and eventual immortality.
Additionally, there were two rings imbued with the power of my artifact library. This library, which encompassed the archives of all existing guilds and my own knowledge, had already been integrated with the knowledge of Salazar and Morgana. Furthermore, it was periodically updated with data from the Vatican, which had begun to imbue the artifacts I had gifted them with knowledge just five years prior.
The rings themselves were crafted from consecrated silver, serving as a reciprocal offering from the Vatican in exchange for the artifacts-libraries.
The rings also contained a spell that protected them in the form of a basilisk. It could grow to the size of me in its snake form or shrink down to a few meters. Incidentally, when in kite form, my size is forty-five meters. The serpent created by this artefact served as a guardian. In terms of physical capabilities, it was only ten to fifteen percent inferior to me.
This serpent was the result of a synergy between the illusory aspect of my gift inherited from Kitsune and the magical essence of light, the patronus material. Its venom was nearly as deadly as my own, and its potency remained active throughout the duration of the guardian's existence. The basis for its effects did not lie in materiality; rather, it was a manifestation of an energetic illusion superimposed upon reality, convincing it of its reality and lethality. The consequences of being afflicted by the original venom of a six-hundred-year-old royal basilisk were remarkably similar. The infernal flames were only capable of causing minor scorching to their skin.. The summoned basilisk defenders were able to traverse a wall of infernal flames several meters thick with impunity, the flames not adhering to their bodies. They were summoned either by the will of their master or by the invocation of a spirit entity encased within rings, which scoured for any threats to their master.
The final gifts for my daughters in the box were two blades, crafted from the tails of seven-tailed kitsunes I had slain. These blades resembled small tantos measuring sixty centimetres in length. In their normal state, they appeared as fiery red steel swords.
A distinctive pattern adorned the steel, featuring finely pressed needles arranged in a herringbone configuration, with the apex pointing towards the hilt of the sword. However, these blades were more than mere weapons of exceptional strength and sharpness. No, they were artifacts imbued with mystical properties. When imbued with energy, they came to life and could extend up to thirty meters in length. They could be mentally controlled and bent at astonishing angles, even forming spirals if desired.
Depending on the type of energy infused into them, they possessed diverse abilities. For instance, when Koneko imbued fire mana into one of these blades, it emitted a glowing light, enabling it to effortlessly slice through armor enchanted with strength like a hot knife through butter.. What can it accomplish when imbued with the potency of Mary's vision? Everything is at the mercy of the master's imagination.
I could not depart so easily. As I rose from my seat, Maria pounced upon me, her arms encircling my neck, and her lips pressed against mine.
"Until later, my dear!" I turned to leave the student's chamber. All the belongings I had amassed over the course of my years under the roof of the Badoer household were already stowed away in my dimensional pocket. I bid farewell to each and every one of them last night, Francesco, the father of Maria, included.
My footsteps now led me to the sanctuary of San Giacomento, where Vincenzo Amati awaited.
"Greetings, Vencenzo. I am delighted to find you in robust health," I offered a smile to the man who, throughout our years of association, has remained a mystery to me. It is as if there are two distinct individuals within him: one rational, the other an enthusiast. He is like a host to two entities vying for control of his mortal form. How to approach him remains a conundrum for me. Yet, throughout our acquaintance, he has never shown any malice towards me.
"And greetings to you, Svyatozar," I replied, "you remain as youthful and unblemished as the day we first met."
Indeed, I have not aged in the slightest for the past 30 years, nor have I sought to deceive myself with illusory means. I saw no purpose in it, for powerful mages grow old only for a brief moment, and my intention was not to remain in Venice for an extended period. Yet, in retrospect, I have indeed spent 30 years here in Vencenzenzo. He, on the other hand, appears to have aged once more. Certainly, he now appears younger than when we first met at the Acquisti mansion, but 30 years have elapsed since his restoration on the day of the Miracle. Now, he appears to be a man in his late fifties or early sixties, though in reality, he is well into his hundredth year.
At his observation regarding my appearance, I remained silent, seeing no need to comment.
"So you are departing our city without a change of heart," said Cardinal, "I had hoped you would remain in our city, but the odour of Venice grows worse with each passing year. Your original intention was not to settle here for long, and it is due to the ambergris, that eternal companion of the city.
"Before you depart, I have one final favour to request of you. My heart tells me that I shall never see you again. Please, take a look at this necklace and tell me your thoughts on it."
What on earth is this thing he's given me? I approached the ancient chest and saw what appeared to be a steel or silver chain with spiked links, reminiscent of Alfonso's demon-hunting chain. However, this one was forged from blood-soaked iron using the techniques of ancient Sumerian demonologists. I cannot determine the nature of this chain yet. I've already cast about ten enchantments and spells upon it, but none have provided an answer. My own magic seems to be draining away, which is peculiar. I would have expected that if I were casting these spells on cold iron or charoite, a rare mineral based on silicon. These two materials are naturally resistant to magic, dissipating any ordered mana flow. Yet this chain itself seems to emit mana of light. What could this mean?
I cast a diagnostic spell using the same mana, and that's when something extraordinary happened.
Oh, dear saints, what a predicament I find myself in once again! I have been through this before, yet life seems determined to teach me no lessons. The cursed chain, the moment my light charms touched it, lashed out at me like a coiled serpent. It wrapped itself around my arm and then my neck, taking the form of a gleaming silver chain that would befit a magister or a king, had it not been so sinister.
"Ah, I suspected something of the sort," said this… this… I cannot even find the words to describe him! "Might you enlighten me as to your suspicions and the nature of this chain?"
From the aura of holiness it exudes, I can tell it is some sort of Christian artifact. I can sense it clearly now, not just by its emanations of light mana, but also by the crosses adorning the battle chain. They now appear as mere ornaments and symbols of status, though what kind of status remains a mystery.
The battle chain in question once belonged to Saint George, the Victorious, who used it to chain the mouth of a dragon, slaying it with a spear thrust. In the year 1405, Sigismund I, King of Hungary, paid a visit to the Vatican, where he was granted permission to descend to the tomb containing the relics of Saint George and offer prayers to the Almighty, seeking intercession from the saint who had vanquished monsters.
At that time, in the territories of Romania, Hungary, Serbia, and Bulgaria, a malevolent beast was causing great havoc. A miracle occurred during Sigismund's prayers: the battle chain of Saint George suddenly appeared before him, transcending the walls of its stone coffin, encircling his neck and assuming its current form, which now adorns you, Svyatozar.
Sigismund was a mere mortal, but the artifact bestowed upon him the strength and ability to confront the malevolence plaguing his realm. Subsequently, Sigismund established the Order of the Knights of the Dragon as a means to combat these monstrous entities.. It existed for a period of one hundred and sixty years, until Vlad III Tepes, the Lord of Wallachia, assumed the role of its leader. The exact nature of the events that transpired remains shrouded in mystery, with only Vlad himself possessing the knowledge. He emerged as a formidable figure, adopting the moniker of "vampire", and for a century, he wrought terror upon his lands.
Several attempts by the Inquisition to eradicate this monstrous figure through extensive campaigns proved futile, resulting in the loss of all those who ventured into these lands. However, one event stands out: the return of George's chain to the coffin of the saint coincided with the transformation of the head of the Order of the Dragon into this monstrous being.
"Oh, splendid! Am I to assume the role of the head of this esteemed Catholic order of knights?"
"Beyond eliminating abominations and foes of humanity manifested as monstrous entities, there are no further obligations associated with this position."
Oh, splendid. Having cast the chain aside, I have learned that I cannot part with it. The cross, my fathomless well into the egregore of the One God, an infinite source of divine power, has immediately claimed the chain as its own the moment it touched me. They are of the same ilk. By granting it access to the energy of faith through its connection to the egregore, the cross has helped it to embed itself into my spiritual form, making it a second spiritual artifact. And now, the chain is an inextricable part of my very soul.
This is quite extraordinary. Yes, having a source of power that provides inexhaustible energy is remarkable. But not when it has its own will and a limited mind, deciding what is right and wrong for me. According to its perception, this chain has strengthened me because it grants me a boost in combat against monsters. However, now I am unable to overcome a creature that might threaten a flock believing in the Creator. Oh, woe is me!
I observe that you do not appear to be particularly pleased with the divine providence and the intercession of the saint. It is only through the sanction of Saint George in heaven that you have been granted the ownership of his battlechain. My Order of the Knights of the Creator and your Order of the Dragon Knights, of which you are the sole member, are the only Catholic chivalric orders that do not fall under the jurisdiction of the Vatican.
Well, thank you for your response. I would not have danced to their tune. I would rather see a second Sodom and Gomorrah, with the destruction of the Vatican and the entirety of the Church, rather than submit to these fools and degenerates. Yes, yes, this corruption has already crept into their ranks. I detected their leprous aura when I visited the Pontiff twice.
I must avoid places where I may encounter a being that could pose a threat to me. There is no escape: the chain demands that I confront it. I am unsure of the magnitude of its influence on me, nor of the consequences of failing to fulfill the obligations imposed by this accursed artifact. And I do not wish to see what it and its brother could do with a crucifix around my neck.
And why on earth did I decide to visit Vencenzo tonight? I should have departed from Venice without bidding farewell. My intuition! When it deigns to speak, it can be most vexing. I should have alluded to the consequences of my visit to San Giacomento and meeting with the Cardinal.
I have already forged a strong bond with the infosphere, and I have also cultivated the astral body, the sensual spirit, and the mental realm. Together, they should augment my natural intuition, rendering me almost prophetic. Ehhh, everything seemed to be progressing well for me. My plans have been fulfilled, and beyond that, I have acquired the power of Kitsune illusions, learned how to dream, become a recognized master of all magical disciplines, earned the title of Count, amassed a hundred tons of gold, raised a disciple, confidently pursuing a path towards marriage, motivated to the utmost, and now focusing solely on the goal.. Gratitude to the Spanish explorers and their treasure-laden vessels that never returned to their homelands. What was the price of all those thirty years of schooling for my daughter, Francesca, compared to what I achieved on my own? It was a pittance. Just when I thought I was prepared to move forward, here I am again.
Well, that's quite enough! What if I were to become a paladin, albeit with a fair chance of emerging victorious against the creatures? I am no pushover, and I have the advantage of two divine-grade artifacts at my disposal. Defeating creatures not only provides an opportunity for training in combat magic but also offers a plethora of valuable materials, opening up a world of experimentation!
Indeed, one must find the silver lining in every situation! Let others wallow in the mire of their own discontent, for I am thriving.
In this state of mind, I departed from Venice for England, intent on establishing an account with Gringotts, an institution that has stood the test of time. How Georgie's fighting chain would react to this development remains a mystery, but that is a concern best left to the malevolent little ogres.
******
Greetings, England and the ever-present Slant Alley! Having ascended the steps of the bank and entered the lobby, passing by the doors where a guard stood, glaring in my direction — oh, how menacing we must appear! — I glanced around the room. There were few others present.
May I offer a momentary indulgence, but today shall mark the final day in the annals of your existence, miscreants of the abyssal depths. My thoughts and sentiments regarding these beings were met with an approving response from within my soul, as if Salazar himself had a particular affinity for this diminutive race.
Approaching the clerk, who feigned ignorance of my presence, I addressed him with a command:
"Hark, you preposterous creature. I seek to acquire a strongbox in your vault and deposit gold therein. Summon the manager at once!"
Oh, how insufferable he is. Soon, I shall have you all quivering in fear. The legacy of Salazar, in the form of his sentiments towards this species, was passed down to me, unaltered. I have not eradicated it from my being, for I wholeheartedly embrace it. He despised them, and he destroyed them with every encounter.
The goblin responded in silence. However, he conveyed his message through the intricate runes etched on the table before him, and I could sense the attention of the banking guards. At last, the senior warden of the chamber appeared.
"What is your desire, mortal?"
Their services were exemplary, akin to a subpar hostelry in Sochi or a decrepit shop during the Soviet era.
"Let us depart to a place where our words cannot be overheard, and we shall converse in private."
A glimmer of delight shone in his eyes. As far as I was aware, according to their current terms of surrender following the recent rebellion, they were not permitted to harm a mage, provided they did not provoke them to endanger their lives. I had already twice insulted their species, referring to the clerk behind the desk as a freak and addressing the head warden as inferior.
And so I was escorted into the passage. It was no longer the office of favoured clients, but rather a place far beneath the floors of the bank. I did not wish to be guided directly to the boiler room, where the kitchen was located. I would go to the boiler on my own, and there, I could remove the head of whoever had dared to offend them.
Well, it was time to put an end to this journey, as we had already descended to a great depth. We now found ourselves in a cavern with lofty vaults and stalactites.
"Stop!" I mentally commanded, simultaneously caressing the goblins who now accompanied us as escorts beneath the illusory canopy. "Take me to your leader."
"Yes, I shall," replied the goblin, its voice devoid of emotion and mechanical.
We proceeded along a different passage than the one the hallkeeper had taken me earlier.
As we proceeded, we encountered an increasing number of goblins, who were taken aback by the presence of a human mage in their corridors. A subtle suggestion to their minds caused them to dismiss this encounter as inconsequential, and within a few moments, they had forgotten about it.
After another half-hour's walk, we arrived at a chamber as vast as a hundred football fields. The architecture of the buildings was peculiar, reminiscent of South American Indian structures, resembling truncated pyramids with kitchens atop each roof. Nearly every third building had a fire burning beneath a cauldron. I did not want to imagine what was being cooked in those cauldrons.
We proceeded along the central avenue of this subterranean city, and I cast an illusion of a goblin, taking the attendants completely under my mental control.
Having arrived in the heart of this metropolis, we proceeded to enter the grandest of pyramids. Within its confines, my companions were tasked with determining the subsequent course of action. The objective was to exert mental dominance over the local populace. One such individual was the commander of Gringott II's personal guard, the reigning monarch.
«What is the meaning of this, Grubbs?» Grumbles asked with a grin, addressing the largest toad in the local marsh.
It was time to reveal herself to him and explain that a highly dangerous serpent had entered the area. Gringott turned to her subordinate, Goblin. Since Grubbs' mind was entirely under my control, I seized the opportunity to use his linguistic abilities to translate his words for myself.
Now, my escort and I found ourselves in the chamber of the clan leader, which was occupied by a creature that preys on humanoids. The creature was enraged at its subordinate for having diverted its attention from its meal.
Having dispelled the illusion, I responded to him:
«Congratulations, Salazar Slytherin will be opening an account with your bank today. Can you tell me, creature, how pleased you are about this?»
As I spoke, I transformed into a Naga, causing the creature to emit a foul odor from its intestinal gases.
«Shut your mouth, or Gringott III shall be here soon!»
Upon hearing my threat, the creature's grey skin turned ash-like, almost snowy white.
«How do you do?»
He began to stutter as well. One can sympathize with him. When the founders had just completed the construction of their castle, but had not yet had time to enroll the first students, the castle was under siege by the largest clan of goblins at the time. In general, the early tenth century was marked by numerous clashes with these vermin of the magical realm. At the time of their conjugation, which occurred a hundred thousand years ago, their world had a connection not with Earth but with a realm now known as the magical world, which is contiguous with ours.
The goblins established themselves in a vast mountain range almost immediately; initially, their numbers were small. Given their rate of population growth, they ought to have long since emerged from the confines of their caves and underground dwellings to expand their territory. However, this did not occur until a relatively recent time.
It was not until three millennia ago that humanity became aware of their existence. These beings, who possessed unique abilities, chose to launch an attack against the Irish Celtic clans. These clans had long been subjected to the oppressive rule of the Sidhe, and their tolerance for outsiders was non-existent. These individuals were characterized by an inherent aggressiveness and insatiable thirst for bloodshed.
After centuries of de facto servitude to the faerie race, these people had gained a deep understanding of their own power. They defeated the goblins with such ferocity that the latter retreated to their mountainous realm in a neighboring realm of magic without a backward glance. Subsequently, they made a solemn vow never to return to the island that would later become the homeland of the Irish, lest they risked another confrontation.
It was not until a millennium and a half later that the goblins ventured once more to set foot on Earth. This time, they employed a distinct method of entry into our realm. They emerged in the heart of Londinium, a future iteration of London, at a time when the city was predominantly inhabited by Britons. However, the Roman legions had not yet departed from their northernmost province. Once again, the goblins found themselves caught in the crossfire, succumbing to the combined forces of the Romans and Britons, who reduced them to the status of cabbages in their wake.
However, after their second unsuccessful attempt, the goblins did not remain in their caverns for long. Some grave and unpleasant event transpired within their domain, compelling them to traverse through all the tunnels and passages leading to the surface of the Earth.
It was the ninth century, and human civilization had already achieved a significant milestone in its evolution, with a clear division of labor. Those who were peasants were confined to managing households and tilling fields, while shoemakers were limited to crafting footwear. In contrast, in the earlier and more primitive times, men were primarily hunters and warriors.
This time, however, the xenos cannibals encountered a stroke of luck. During their initial few weeks in England, they encountered only small villages with minimal defenses. These settlements were located deep within the island, away from the coastal regions, and the primary threat to the Anglo-Saxons at the time were the Viking raids. The goblins celebrated a grand feast, consuming more than ten thousand human beings in a matter of days.. And when the local sovereign emerged on the scene, having already assembled a retinue of several thousand warriors and more than a hundred sorcerers, these vermin hastened back to their lairs in the realm of magic. In their haste, they carried off a number of captives. Thus, goblins began appearing here and there, with varying degrees of success. In some places, they were fortunate, while in others only a few were able to escape and make their way home.
At this time, during the period of goblin incursions, Hogwarts Castle came under siege. There were only the four founders present at the time, with no students. One Godric could have easily destroyed them all, but Salazar would not allow it. Instead, he captured a few of the intruders. To accomplish this, he launched a stealthy sortie, a task that was easy for him.
Through his study of goblin physiology, blood composition, and identification of vulnerabilities, this wizard was able to develop an airborne virus within three days. However, its viability outside the goblin body was limited, lasting no more than a few hours in open air. This was not enough for Rowena, who attached a curse to the virus. This curse drew mana from the goblin bodies, weakening their immune systems and strengthening the virus, resulting in faster replication within the goblin hosts.
On the fifth day of the siege, Slytherin unleashed his offspring with Rowena in the Xenos encampment. Within six hours, the first casualties appeared among the enemy forces. A contagion swiftly spread throughout the camp, leaving half of the goblins beneath the castle walls to die a grisly death on the following day, their bodies bleeding from every orifice.
It was on this fateful day that reinforcements arrived. Upon witnessing the horrors within the camp of their brethren, the newcomers fled in haste back to their dens. However, in their haste, they inadvertently worsened the situation for their own kind. Most of them were already infected, carrying the plague with them to their own homes. By the end of the week, barely three percent of the initial goblin population remained alive. The Gringott clan and a few stragglers who had avoided the contagion managed to survive, having been away on distant raiding expeditions. The clan itself was an ostracized group, which is why it survived.
Much later, the fame of the Founders extended throughout Albion and beyond its borders. The goblins then realized who was responsible for the calamity that brought their race to the verge of extinction.
Salazar was already renowned as a master potion maker, an alchemist, a chimeraologist, and a Dark Lord recognized throughout the world. From the moment the xenos learned the name of their executioner, his name became a household word. He was responsible for the death of over four hundred thousand goblins, and mothers used his name to frighten their children, while their elders warned young men not to venture to the human lands, where they would find only human flesh to devour.
As long as the Founders lived in England, the goblins remained hidden in their burrows. And, as I can infer from the king's response to these diminutive creatures, his mother likely told him terrifying stories about me when he was a child.
"Do not tremble!" I said, accompanied by a mental rebuke. It was intended to clear his mind and help him detach himself somewhat from the fear before me. "I have come to deposit my funds with you, of course, on an interest-bearing basis. You will have access to my resources for your purposes, but at a rate of ten percent per annum. Are you comprehending me? Respond!"
"Y-y-yes, L-l-lord!" he replied, still trembling but now more coherent, having realized that I did not intend to take their souls, but merely to engage them as a client.
Indeed, I had made some extraordinary demands. However, he was willing to pay me personally, without any financial investment, to spare their lives.
Now, the most favourable terms are offered to depositors from ancient clans of wizards who were compelled to surrender during the recent conflict. They receive only five percent interest annually. The number of these depositors is relatively small, with only fifty families known to the king.
All others receive three percent, provided their deposit exceeds ten thousand gold coins. If the deposit is less, there is no possibility of accepting it. A wizard can only rent a secure storage unit at the bank to keep their savings. The cost of the unit is fifty gold coins, and an annual subscription fee of ten gold coins is also required.
I invested ninety tonnes of gold, of which ten remain in a cache on my island, accessible only to myself, Maria, and Koneko. Yes, I have finally waited for the advent of apparition charms. Having already gained full knowledge of these spatial enchantments, I was able to create port keys that modern magical science has not yet achieved. I have bound both of these personally crafted port keys to Maria and Koneko with blood. My intention was to allow them to travel to the island's bungalow and unwind by the sea. Indeed, my cabin, located in the heart of the island, is close by, and it is there that the remaining ten tonnes of my golden reserve are kept.
Well, that's it! I have deposited the funds in the bank, and I have no further concerns regarding them. The goblins would protect my gold with their lives. It was not merely the bond of a magical agreement with the head of the Gringotts clan, who represents his entire race. They were terrified to the point of losing their composure, all in an attempt to spite me. That's what centuries of well-crafted public relations do. My mere name is now a better guarantee of fair transactions than a meticulously drafted magical contract.
Now, the golden key to the safety deposit box, adorned with rubies and proudly bearing the number 1, resides in my dimensional pocket. I can now return to the continent where I have yet to visit my ancestral home from my past life.