Descending into the depths of the turbulent ocean, upon whose surface a tempest of nine points now raged with full force, I was in a state of extreme tension and concentration, ready at any moment to summon my other ten selves from our bedchamber, where our wives were engaged in licentious pursuits.
What were my concerns?
To commence, the barrier that formerly concealed and safeguarded the city discovered by the basilisks beneath the waters no longer existed, rendering it vulnerable to scrutiny. The sensation I experienced within it caused me to feel a profound sense of apprehension for the first time in my existence.
This sensation was not comparable to the feelings I had faced when confronting Dracula or the offspring of Dagon, nor even the presence of Lolth's daughter evoked such a visceral response within me. Furthermore, I perceived within one of the aspects of the energies surrounding the city, which had become the object of my fascination, the magical essence of a demon. Its echo of power resonated within the Schultz mansion, where Gaunt discovered a book deposited by a demon that might prove instrumental in his own ascension.
The power that pervaded the city, intertwining with its very essence, was striking in its repugnance and was something inconceivable and incredible, akin to Chaos itself!
It was not particularly difficult for me to discern its nature, but I had never imagined such a phenomenon existed. The energy I felt concerned about the Earth's vitality was a symbiosis, a fusion of all the known forces in the universe. It was like an open sore on the spiritual body of the planet, encompassing all aspects of existence: life force, prana, the astral, the sensual, the mental, the magical, and even a hint of the divine. Yet, somehow, it coexisted without detonation.
The most repulsive aspect was that each individual energy was an embodiment of abhorrence, and when I touched it, it felt like dipping my hand into a vat of decaying matter with maggots. And yet, when all the energies came together, they formed the ultimate incarnation of Filth!
Even having been cleansed by the waters of the sea, I desired to immerse myself in a rigorous and abrasive cleansing, employing the finest detergents to expunge those impressions that elicited feelings of nausea and revulsion from my very being. This is I, Ermungand, a being whose essence is characterized by promiscuity and a voracious appetite for devouring, ready to assimilate any source of power, even matter and space itself over time.
I descended deep into the depths of the ocean, reaching a depth of three kilometers where no life could be found. Not even plankton, microorganisms, or other minuscule organisms inhabited the waters above the city whose rooftops and bathing areas I had previously observed with my unaided eyesight.
When I descended to the lowest level and found myself amidst the imposing edifices, it became clear that they had been affected by some sort of catastrophe. This was evident from the fact that many of the structures were still adorned with a functional complex of runic script intended to maintain their integrity. However, the buildings bore distinct traces, or rather wounds, from high-level spells, which had literally melted the very stone from which they were constructed, leaving gaping holes in their walls and roofs.
Once I stood in the heart of the city, surrounded by its ruins, there was no need for conjecture about the identity of its former inhabitants — the High Elves. In whatever worlds they exist, this race's culture and civilization invariably follow a similar trajectory of development, even their linguistic phonetics are nearly identical among all those who can be categorized as elves.
Some buildings had frescoes of the highest craftsmanship and beauty, as well as texts, and using the computing power and access point of the local universe to the resources of the infosphere of the multiverse, it was not difficult for me to figure out what was written on one of the walls and from what I read, my mood became a little worse.
Being in the middle of a city street that was once on the surface and illuminated by a completely different luminary and other stars, I did not worry about the attack and my safety. In general, I have recently forgotten what fear is, and dressed in my armor and the essence of Ermungand, now everyone else should be afraid to catch my eye.
But all this was unnecessary, since the city turned out to be dead, but I met a lot of evidence of the battle that broke out here.
I now knew where this city came from in our world and now I am almost one hundred percent sure who my opponent is and threatens the existence of life on Earth.
The sole inscription and name on the wall — the Queen of the Night Elves, Azshara — placed everything in its proper context.
But then, amidst my contemplation of the edifice that once served as the seat of the city's governance, and the burdens that now rest upon my shoulders in the form of Sargeras and his horde of mana-thirsty creatures, my gaze fell upon the walls within the building. These walls were adorned with texts that chronicled the history of Azeroth's night elven race.
My clones, having dispersed throughout the city in pursuit of their own quests, left a group of ten to venture to the outskirts. There, they encountered traces of dragon presence and traces of light energy.
Delving into the legacy of the fairy-like race from the realm of Azeroth, I endeavored to recall every bit of knowledge I possessed about them, aiming to at least roughly assess the magnitude of the threat posed by the army of Sargeras, the fallen titan. On one hand, my draconic essence rejoiced at the prospect of such a challenge, as a formidable adversary elicits a thrill of anticipation and excitement in my heart. However, the sheer magnitude of the horde of daemonic creatures under Sargeras' command, comprising an unknown number of entities that rival the strength of archdemons, constitutes a grave threat to the very fabric of existence in the universe.
In no way can I allow Earth or the enchanted realm to become a battleground where the forces of the Burning Legion converge with those under my command, including the Order of the Dragon, the Inquisition, the Order of the Creator, the magi of Russia, Japan, and China, as well as the malevolent spirits who have sworn fealty to me.. Azeroth bears witness to the fact that this will not end well. Having reached this conclusion, I must remain vigilant and be well-informed about the precise moment and location where Sargeras's minions in our realm will open a gateway to the realms inhabited by the Burning Legion.
Who is the demon currently eluding my grasp? My choices are limited to either an eredar or a natresim, neither of which offers any advantage in simplifying my quest.
Based on the available information obtained through the scanning of the flooded city and analysis of its remnants, it appears that this settlement was once situated in close proximity to the capital of the nocturnal elf race, Azshara, at the time when they were under the rule of this ruler. This suggests that the city experienced a catastrophic event coinciding with the initial incursion of the demonic forces of the Legion into the realm of Azeroth, emerging from the well of eternity.
Unfortunately, I am unable to provide a definitive account of the events that transpired, nor is it necessary. Assuming that this city's relocation to our world occurred following the division of the continent, with the night elves under the leadership of Illidan and Malfurion expelling the Burning Legion, it becomes reasonably clear how it came to be enshrouded beneath the impenetrable barrier of our ocean.. My clones have thoroughly explored the city, but they have not discovered anything that could have created the barrier visible to my basilisk eyes. Therefore, it is likely the result of a protective mechanism inherent in the fabric of the universe.
This area is not the product of the convergence of worlds, as it appears to be a remnant of the aftermath of the destruction of the Well of Eternity and the energy catastrophe on Azeroth. It seems that during this event, a surge of uncontrolled forces tore apart this region of space, shifting it to another plane like the depths of the Astral. From there, this city was drawn into one of the myriad global events that occurred in the Interworld, ultimately leading to the convergence of Earth and Magic a hundred thousand years ago.
It is challenging to speculate on the precise reasons why this city ended up on Earth.. Perhaps the vectors of energy coincided, perhaps fate ordained it thus, but had this not occurred, then this city, a region of the physical world, would have simply disintegrated into chaos.
It was at this point that a portion of the realm of Azeroth, infested with the malevolence of demons and the presence of alien energies, became immediately isolated by the very fabric of the world. Had there been sufficient energy source within this city to assist our universe in disengaging it from the rest of the world, it might have become one of the myriad small domains existing as satellites near Earth-Magical worlds.
Instead, this city was left isolated on the seabed for tens of millennia, separated from our reality by a barrier, ever since its translocation to this location.. And if we were to proceed from the premise of the saturation of local space with demonic energy, it would seem that along with a fragment of the material realm, one of the principal figures of the Burning Legion has been transported to our presence, having only a few centuries ago succeeded in breaching the barrier and breaking free.
It is certainly intriguing to delve into plausible theories, yet it is time to investigate the findings of my clones. The enigma of the translocation and discovery of this city on Earth's surface can be contemplated at a later time, as there is no immediate urgency.
The most intriguing discovery among my illusions proved to be the corpses of slain night elves and various demons, but what truly captured my attention were three enormous carcasses of scarlet young dragons!
If my memory serves me correctly, these were the remains of Alexstrasza, the Aspect of Life and leader of the red dragonflight, who aided the elves in their initial encounter with demons and helped eliminate a grave peril. It appears that these three dragons were part of her flight. They ranged in size from forty to fifty metres in length, and it seems they had succumbed recently.
Of course, I understand that a high concentration of magic in the body is superior to any embalming process, but after tens of thousands of years, they should have surely transformed into bare skeletons, devoid of any trace of flesh. Yet here, one cannot even discern that these dragons are deceased; they appear as if they were merely sleeping.. My spiritual vision clearly indicates that these bodies do not possess souls, yet it also raises questions about the theory of when dragons, night elves, and demons died. Their bodies are scattered throughout a small square and the surrounding streets, and judging by the intensity of their residual soul energy and the overall condition of their organic parts, they likely died only a few centuries ago at the most.
Could it be that a barrier erected around this city has kept this area in stasis? Unfortunately, even with my connection to the universe, I find it incredibly difficult to obtain clear answers to my questions. I have yet to gain enough experience with the infosphere and the soul of a fully developed world to truly understand it.
— Gentlemen, let us transport all the corpses we have discovered to my realm. — Then, after a brief moment of reflection, I added, — Also, remove one specimen of each species of creatures you have discovered here and deliver it to Alfonso. You may also give him one dragon. Let him investigate their physiology in depth, uncovering their strengths and vulnerabilities.
For some reason, I issued the order for my illusions audibly, and I began contemplating the next steps I should take, having finally ascertained the source of the menace to life on Earth.
Having observed my clones transporting bodies to my realm, I conjured another hundred illusory duplicates, which commenced the process of purging this city of all valuable items. As I contemplated my next course of action, I began extracting and assimilating demonic emanations emanating from the city. These emanations were prone to mutation and transformation, and had they not been contained, there was a high probability that all the deceased bodies, once their own magical and residual soul energies dissipated, would have succumbed to corruption and risen as demonic undead with a ninety percent likelihood.
The task of rendering the local environment inert and free from corruption was accomplished in just fifteen minutes, and I had yet to fully utilize the essence of Ermungand. Had I unleashed my full power, the task would have been completed in a matter of moments, but there was a risk of inflicting harm upon the fabric of the universe. My appetite is insatiable.
"Well, my business here is concluded. I am about to pay a visit to the Blacks, during which I shall deliberate with them on their conduct and demeanor at the forthcoming soirée at Greengrass's residence."
***
"Greetings, Phineas," I said. "I observe that you appear to be growing younger by the day. Have you indeed discovered the object of your affections? What is the cause of these remarkable transformations?"
Heh. Despite Lord Black's attempts to conceal his romantic attachment from the world, he could not hide his ardent emotions from me regarding Gloria, the matriarch of the Rosier clan and my vassal, as well as head of the prestigious Rocky Orphanage.
Their acquaintance occurred a year ago when Sirius Black and James Potter were dispatched to the Rocky Orphanage, where they resided for an entire year and underwent the trials and tribulations of novicehood in the Order of the Dragon. During this time, the young men underwent basic combat training, which included instruction in the use of potions and elixirs as well as a series of rituals intended to enhance their survival capabilities and improve the efficiency of their soul energy shields.
For the first two months, they endured the rigors of physical exertion and a strict routine that was far more demanding than the one Phineas had imposed upon them. However, pride prevented them from seeking to return to their father's home, observing their fellow wizards undergoing the same training regimen. Gradually, they became accustomed to their situation, and unexpectedly, they formed a bond with Severus Peverell, known as the Prince, heir to the illustrious Peverell family.
And so, having spent an entire year in the rocky shelter, the heir of the Black family, and Phineas, as my vassal, being deeply concerned about the well-being and prosperity of his heir, frequently began to frequent the domain of the Order of the Dragon, led by Gloria Rosier.
I cannot say for certain how it all began, whether it was truly love at first sight or simply because there existed a lady who did not care about Phineas's status or strength, and thus, Black began to devote all his free time to her presence, seeking to establish an unassailable fortress in Gloria's favor. Now, looking back, I can confidently state that he was truly enamored with her, and I would not dare to spoil her joy.
It seems that in order to captivate the formidable Black, one must bind him with chains, after which his heart will not beat for a full half-minute.. That is precisely what Gloria did when he began to harass her with his attentions, and verbal requests for him to desist had no effect.
Only after Phineas had been thoroughly exhausted, although he might have recovered, it is difficult to dispatch a powerful magister, did he become even more enamored with Gloria. Despite her curses directed at him and other hostile actions, which would have been enough to deter any sane and reasonable person, he simply continued to gaze at her with an even more affectionate gaze. Fortunately, it all passed without his uttering any lengthy sighs, which my psyche could not have endured.
"Greetings, my lord!" My vassal approached me with an urgent request. "Messire, I implore you to intercede on my behalf with Gloria. She takes my courtship lightly and, no matter what I do, flatly refuses to accept my affections and gifts with sincerity."
"Phineas, I certainly do not object, but even so, I cannot guarantee that she will consent to marry you. I shall not go into specifics, for it is not my secret to divulge, but in her younger days, Gloria experienced terrible events that continue to haunt her. Do not despair, however, and continue to endeavor to win her affections. She requires more time to allow someone into her life and her heart."
I did not exaggerate. The last time I encountered her, I detected a struggle within her sensual nature, now raging with full force in her emotional realm. It was not surprising to find a cacophony of diverse and conflicting emotions within the tempest of her feelings, including the emergence of love and admiration for Nigelus as well as respect for his determination.
"Is that so? I do hope she will confide in me one day," he replied, a hint of disappointment in his voice. But it was only momentary, for he quickly regained his composure and continued with resolve, "I will not give up, and I shall continue to pursue Lady Rosier!"
"Then perhaps you should consider taking a position as a teacher at the Rocky Shelter, where the younger witchers are trained. That way, you would have a legitimate reason to be near your beloved, and she would have no reason to push you away or interfere with the responsibilities under her care."
"That's true! I will do just that!" Lord Black, now an Archmage in power but lacking in knowledge, burst with excitement. It would be advantageous for him to be at the Orphanage, where his illusions were still being taught, enhancing the skills and status of his witcher subjects.
I have come to you with a specific request. As you are aware, at the conclusion of August, Greengrass is hosting a grand soirée in celebration of the engagement between their heiress, my student, and Alfonso. Consequently, I require the presence of all Blacks at this event. I intend to announce the reappearance of the Mrax and Gryffindor bloodlines and introduce them to the elite of society. My goal is to showcase to the entire nation, which has yet to join our ranks, the unwavering strength of the Grey faction, both in terms of political influence and beyond.
— Well, I have encountered the heirs of the Mraks, but how did you come across Gryffindor, exactly? — I had to brief him on the unfortunate fate of poor Ron, who had been imprisoned within the hat for nine centuries.
— Salazar, after getting to know you and having the honor of being your vassal, I realize how dull my life used to be. — he certainly wasn't dismayed by my story. To discover the identity of one of the Hogwarts founders as Morgana, sister of King Arthur, was quite surprising.
— Phineas, tell me, is it usual for Sirius and James to attempt to breach the protective wards you have placed, seeking access to the room we're in now?
"It's quite all right. The fact is that these two loutish young men have an excessive amount of pent-up energy, which they expend in their leisure hours on various frivolous pursuits, which can occasionally result in unpleasant consequences for their well-being. Therefore, I have decided to personally assign them objectives and targets, the achievement of which would allow them to expend their energy while simultaneously benefiting themselves."
After taking a sip from his collector's whiskey, which moistened his throat, Phineus continued, "The boys have a particular fondness for broomstick flying, but they do not appreciate children's models. Thus, I promised Sirius and James that, if they were able to breach the defenses of my office, I would provide them with Comet-65 broomsticks. These are currently flown by the England Quidditch Team."
Well, now everything has become clear to me. The barrier that Nigel had placed on the door and the walls of his office was quite strong and skilfully crafted, but its level was at the maximum for a master of magic in terms of both execution and complexity, as well as mana content.
Phineas deliberately refrained from using his full strength, leaving the boys with at least a slight chance of success. However, observing how Sirius, alongside his uncle James Potter, deftly and expertly dealt with the intricacies of the interwoven knots responsible for the fixed protection of the door, one can safely conclude that within a few moments, they will breach the shield and claim their coveted brooms.
"I trust you have prepared suitable rewards for the boys?" I inquired, to which he responded, "They are about to breach the barrier."
As soon as I completed my statement, a triumphant cry echoed through the room.
"Hooray!!! Did I not tell you that today we would finally be able to open this door?!" — hm… And James really proved to be adept at manipulating subtle lines and flows of energy, for the lion's share of our success today is his accomplishment. With my own eyes I saw and witnessed how deftly, and even elegantly in some places, he avoided intricate sections of the weave, bypassing the disruptive lines of Phineas's enchantments with his magic so as not to trigger the unpleasant and painful anti-intrusion protection that was supposed to stun them with an electrical shock.
Phineas had taken everything into account in his defence, rendering it vulnerable to hacking by two apprentice enchanters who could open it primarily relying on their mastery of magical power and control of energy.. He also took into consideration the presence of protective amulets among the intruders, so that, in the event of failure, they would not meet their demise, but merely receive a painful lesson.
"Greetings, my lord!" The transformation from the pair of ruffians who had just achieved their objective was instantaneous. With a proud posture and erect shoulders, they offered a respectful bow, while maintaining a stance that allowed them to offer their hand for a kiss and wield daggers with grace, deflecting from their intended course of action and using the decor and interior of the room as a shield.
Their eyes swiftly assessed the situation, allowing them to formulate a plan for any contingency. These were not children; at the age of eight, they were trained warriors who would not hesitate to shed blood. Their training as witchers and their upbringing as aristocrats had instilled in them the ability to seamlessly transition from one role to another, seamlessly integrating into any situation.
Greetings, young individuals. I observe that you have attained remarkable proficiency in the realm of artifactorics and enchantment, a feat that cannot but be commended and lauded!
With a single glance, he gestured towards the pouch secured to James' belt, housing the magical lockpick, the product of his own craftsmanship. It is a remarkable achievement. At the tender age of eight, one can already create an artefact on par with a skilled journeyman, and, according to contemporary hierarchical standards, a worthy master!
In a previous incarnation, I harbored skepticism regarding the veracity of claims that four Hogwarts students had successfully crafted an artefact that, based on its purpose and efficacy, appeared to be connected to the security system of Hogwarts, namely, the Marauder's Map. However, upon personally examining this dazzling testament to the craftsmanship of the artifact, which has now been fully unveiled to its full potential and is currently limited only by the extent of James' own knowledge and abilities, I cannot help but conclude that it is indeed feasible to create artifacts on the same level of legendary items such as the Invisibility Cloak of the Peveralls or their Elder Wand.
"In celebration of your triumph, I offer these four fangs as my personal gift to you," I said, and with a gesture of telekinesis, I brought forth the fangs from the jaws of one of the scarlet dragons I had encountered that day. I was confident that James would find a fitting use for them, given his exceptional talent.
Observing their inquisitive gazes, evidently unable to fully appreciate the significance of my gift through mere visual inspection, I clarified that these were indeed the fangs of a genuine dragon, not the wyverns commonly referred to as dragons in England and other parts of the wizarding world, but rather the true, intelligent creatures capable of consciously wielding magic.
James's eyes shone with eagerness and delight, for such a treasure was not typically associated with any of the most ancient and esteemed households. I had presented them with an extraordinary trophy, for tales of intelligent dragons were but myths preserved in the annals of the magical realm. Even Nigelus appeared slightly awed.
"And here is what I promised," said Phineas, summoning the comets into his palm and presenting them to the young boys, whose eyes gleamed with even greater anticipation of merriment. "I only hope for your discretion, and that you shall fly these exclusively in your leisure time. Now, you must hasten, for you have fencing lessons in five minutes."
It was not long after Sirius and James had their broomsticks in hand that they heard they were to begin training. With hasty farewells, they departed the office with a sense of dignity, yet the moment they stepped outside and out of sight, they abandoned all propriety and ran as swiftly as they could towards the training field, where Master of the Sword and all things pertaining to stabbing and slashing from my Order of the Dragon awaited them.
Their training followed a rigorous program devoid of any embellishment or aristocratic flourish. Efficiency in combat and focus on personal survival were paramount, with techniques such as kicking a foot into the groin, throwing sand into the eyes, and other "unrefined" tactics that could challenge the honor of an aristocrat being considered acceptable.
"You are fortunate to have an heir, Phineas. His magical potential exceeds that of an apprentice at a remarkably early age, and he is only nine years old. By the time he arrives at Hogwarts, if you do not reduce his workload, he will be a fully-fledged wizard. This is truly remarkable.
And I was not exaggerating. As a pure-blood, if such a term can even be applied to wizards, who in ancient times actively sought to imbue their families with the blood of faeries and other magical beings, he is a veritable prodigy in terms of his magical reserves and the rate at which he is developing his magical body. He is on par with the most gifted offspring of witchers!"
"Sirius is a veritable Black in every respect, and it is somewhat intimidating," I remarked to Phineas. "Indeed, I fear that were it not for James, who serves as his counterbalance, providing prudence and good sense to their dynamic, Sirius might well have been a calamity for all those who do not defer to his authority."
Indeed, you are correct, my lord. It is Sirius. As I mentioned earlier, Sirius exhibits a remarkable affinity for the traits of the Black family. His animagus form is that of a Grimmauld, which he can assume without any training, solely due to his connection with the family's ancestral stone!
After all, I too possess the ability to transform into a Grimmauld form, but only through the use of the family head's ring. However, in order to achieve this transformation, I require immense concentration and immense mental fortitude, lest I lose myself in the process and remain a feral creature forever.
More recently, as I approached the level of power of an archmage and was able to maintain my form as a grimm for several hours, a memory of the essence of this creature, whose spirit became the guardian of our kind, was revealed to me.
Now I understand the nature of these ethereal predators, and while they may not be directly connected to death, they are imbued with its essence from the moment of their birth. The female grimm does not survive the process of giving birth, dedicating almost all her energy to the birthing and nurturing of new offspring. During the initial feeding of her young, she expends the last of her energy reserves, leaving her body as the first nourishment for her pups.
Before their eyes have even opened, these newborn creatures are already intimately connected with death, imprinting upon them the mark of Hel's benediction.. It would seem that even possessing greater magical prowess than James, Sirius nevertheless regards him as an equal, owing to an instinctive perception of a kinship between them, akin to that which flows in the Potter family through the veins.
Even before I fully comprehended the intricacies of establishing a hierarchical structure within the existing partnership, which is now more akin to a triad, I gained insight into the dynamics at play when, in a state of invisibility, I observed Severus meeting with Sirius and James. With deliberate intent, I dispatched my illusory duplicates to discreetly monitor my uncle and cousin as they first visited the rocky orphanage, where I knew Edmund and Eileen's son to be residing. Upon witnessing their swift convergence, it became evident that they swiftly established a hierarchy among themselves, as if they lacked a clear dominance. However, Severus's words carried a sense of authority and weight, and there were no signs of challenge or resistance, which would typically lead to a confrontation where dominance would be established through physical altercations, as would be expected among peers in such circumstances. Instead, they resolved the issue without resorting to violence, relying on their intuitive perception of subtle energies to navigate the situation.
Sirius discerned in Severus an even more profound affinity with the concept of death, which imbues the Grimmauld Place with a sense of foreboding. James, owing to the limited connection with death in his own magical ability, also swiftly acknowledged the superiority of his friend's magics.
The Hogwarts students who would enroll in 1972, unknowingly joining the ranks of the Grey Ranks, would find themselves pitted against the formidable trio, who, having undergone rigorous training as elite fighters and assassins, would assert their dominance with their advanced magical abilities.
Incidentally, it will be necessary to perform a rather interesting ritual with Nigelus in order to strengthen the bond with the guardian spirit. This will help to enhance the potential of this connection and allow for the transfer of positive changes occurring in the body during the transformation into a beast to the human form while in human guise.
I learned this ritual from Morgana's memory, which I then transcribed onto paper and later added to the library of artifacts, ensuring that all witchers and trusted vassals with whom I share access to this sacred space can benefit from it. However, with such a vast amount of knowledge and information at our disposal, it can be challenging to find what you seek without a clear understanding of your needs.. The artifact is meticulously catalogued according to the most advanced standards of modern technology, yet the sheer volume of information it contains is so vast and intricate that it becomes a daunting task to swiftly locate relevant data without guidance.
It is evident that I had already surmised something along these lines, even without accessing Grimm's memories to reach the correct conclusions. Take it, study it at your leisure; the information within it will prove invaluable to you, I said, materializing a small pamphlet in my hand on the shamanic practice of the Gauls designed to augment shapeshifting abilities.
Now, Phineas, tell me, how fare things with your family? Are all well?
Everything is in order. All my progeny have attained several levels of proficiency in various magical disciplines, with a particular emphasis on combat magic. I even managed to persuade and transform Walburga.
Oh, indeed. It appears that this task proved to be quite challenging, and they truly pushed him to the limit during this time. The mere mention of this accomplishment, their triumph, and their achievement in transforming a fool into a rational individual, could only be reflected in the joyous smile on Nigel's face.
However, his own success in enhancing magical abilities and acquiring knowledge and skills does not elicit the same level of joy and happiness in him as it does in this particular instance, where his efforts helped him avoid undesirable outcomes. Nonetheless, he deeply cherishes his family, and the realization that if he were unable to bring his great-niece up to an acceptable standard in the near future, he might have to sacrifice her personally on the altar of family obligations, greatly weighed on his mind and caused him great sorrow.
«It is of the utmost importance. We require as many adept sorcerers as possible, and as swiftly as feasible. What I am about to impart is information intended solely for a select few. The world faces the imminent peril of demonic invasion, and I must prepare for this trial, for the very existence of life on Earth hangs in the balance.
Therefore, I implore you to make every effort in ensuring that your family emerges as one of the pillars in this impending confrontation. This is why I have prioritized the development of members of the Black clan in the realm of combat magic.
I have astounded Nigelus with this newfound data, elucidating my aspiration to see the Blacks serve as the formidable wing of my English subjects. Be it as it may, their connection to the Grimms renders them the ideal choice for training warriors, as the innate desire for battle is an inextricable part of their essence.»
— I thank you for your confidence, my liege! I shall not fail you and shall do all in my power to ensure that your ambitions are realised. — Thus, a little further encouragement for the head of the household, so that he may tighten the reins even further and begin to drill his kin regarding the conflict we face.
Now, having at least a rough idea of the magnitude of the threat to the world, based on my limited knowledge of the realm of military craft, which is far from comprehensive and cannot be regarded as entirely reliable given the infinite number of parallel universes, I can only speculate on the vast potential of the enemy's forces. Nevertheless, I have a general understanding of what to anticipate. This leads me to explore strategies to prevent a potential conflict with the adversary on either the magical realm or Earth.
This, in turn, prompts me to contemplate the necessity of assembling my own military force capable of immediate mobilization and confrontation with the enemy. Uncertain whether the demon of the Burning Legion has already apprised his allies of the existence of our realm, I prioritize locating and eliminating him before he can unleash a demonic invasion led by Sargeras.. We must eradicate the menace at its source! My dragon nature does not even permit me to contemplate avoiding the impending conflict. This necessitates my utmost vigilance in tracking the demon's every move as he evades me on his quest to open a portal to a realm where the forces of the Burning Legion reside. I will not allow him to succeed in his endeavor. Let him lead me to the doorstep of these creatures.
The moment he opens a stable portal, my warriors and I must be on high alert for an immediate response and an invasion — but this time, it will be our army and Sargeras's conquered territories that will be under attack. A dragon cannot be a victim! I am an aggressor, and I refuse to think otherwise. I do not wish to hide this fact. Defensive tactics are not for me. We will engage the enemy in battle, and they will rue the day they coveted what is mine. I will wipe them from the face of creation. I will obliterate all their alternate selves from the multiverse. Were I not a Dragon God, I would not be able to do so.