Chapter 4
Fully realizing that it was simply impossible to delay the decision any further, I urgently started creating a blade that could harm not only the physical body, but also the aura… According to the local classification, I was going to create a dark artifact in the form of a dagger or any other blade, the functionality of which begins and ends with the ability to harm the aura. A primitive and simple artifact in its essence, which could probably be created by any magician from the Sumerian guild of magic.
Unlike local magicians who prefer to buy their main weapons, Sumerian magicians, for the most part, preferred to make their own weapons themselves. Sometimes with the feasible help of their mentors and just hired master artefactors, but participation in the process of creating their own staff or magic wand was almost mandatory. And in general, the magicians of Sumer too often had to make certain artifacts, which is why every second member of the guild had skills in this matter.
And I was no exception, very quickly creating the necessary composition for applying runes and finding an acceptable blank of silver, which allowed magic to pass only slightly worse than the obsidian I was used to. However, with the enchantment itself and the application of runes on a small dagger found in the house, I still had to tinker. Simply due to the fact that this dagger was enchanted before, which is why I had to get rid of third-party enchantments to begin with, and then apply my own.
A whole bunch of hemorrhoids arose with this, I even had to visit the local library again, looking for a suitable spell that could help me get rid of the remnants of magic on the selected blank for an artifact ... after which I studied and practiced a new spell, silently remembering the past Regulus, which did not burden myself too much with visiting the ancestral library. Apart from the Hogwarts curriculum and what he was taught in the ranks of the death eaters, Regulus didn't really know anything, which is why it was me who had to fill in the gaps in education.
However, I coped with this case very, very quickly. The incentive I had was just great, because time was running out. Gradually, the mark merged more and more with me, moving from the "outer" layers of the aura and the physical body to the soul itself. I inherited an extremely nasty legacy from a boy from the Black family, which is why I was ready to take a very desperate step. I didn't want to become a slave from the word at all. However, when the dagger was already ready, and everything came to the moment of self-torture, some worm of doubt still managed to arise in me… I almost forcibly transfigured for myself a steel table with shackles, in which I enclosed my left hand.
- I already hate this belch Tiamat that branded me like some kind of cattle ... - I hissed softly, pouring cold sweat and mentally tuning in to the next madness in my life… However, I could not deceive and calm myself for a long time. And therefore, having gathered all my will into a fist and rejecting unnecessary emotions with the help of mental magic, I still moved the dagger, immediately disconnecting from the strongest flash of pain… Consciousness just faded, because of such gross damage to the aura, but I still returned to the mortal world quickly enough, hurrying to finish the operation…
Nearby, several locally produced potions and a couple of my own under-elixirs were already waiting for me… Therefore, I was not going to stand on ceremony with my own hand. Roughly squeezing off that nice piece of flesh, along with the skin and the black mark on it... the pain is hellish! My eyes grew dark and dizzy with every breath and movement of the silver blade. I remained conscious only thanks to mental magic and some habit of this kind of trauma… That absolutely did not beg for my pain and all those tears that I involuntarily shed, bending over my own hand…
Four minutes of struggle with myself stretched for me into an eternity, but as a result, the "operation" was completed. A piece of flesh, due to which the mark had existed all this time, was thrown aside, and I myself almost passed out once again because of the maddening pain. Such pain that I couldn't even calm the trembling and fever that came over me. At the same time, by and large, I didn't care about physical pain, but the damage in the aura…
Many magicians went crazy from such injuries. At the same time, this fact is true both for the magicians of my past world and for local craftsmen. The aura reacts too sharply to any damage and no painkiller will help here. However, after freeing my hand and hastily bandaging it with a clean cloth soaked in a potion, I still tipped all the prepared potions into myself. Just in order not to bleed out soon…
Wounds left on the body and aura at the same time are extremely reluctant to be treated. Ordinary potions and spells could not heal those at all ... We had to rely only on the natural regeneration of the body and the healing of the steam room. With the latter, everything was frankly shitty for me right now. The body is not accustomed to any serious manipulation of the life force, which is why I could not accelerate my own recovery from the word at all.
However, I was ready for this, the usual rewinds and blood-healing potions were found by me in advance. Well, the fact that I had to suffer from pain in my aura and body for a few more days is not such a big price to pay for freedom from the slave mark. Which, by the way, I burned along with the cut-off piece of flesh, finally getting rid of this filth. On what this whole epic with a slave label could be considered over…
My aura, of course, got hurt once again, and the wound on my arm healed really slowly and reluctantly. But in general, I began to feel much more confident and calmer, once again returning to restoring my former skills and strength, at the same time getting acquainted with the local magic system in much more depth. In addition, against the background of past damage, the new "scratch" did not play a special role. Unpleasant, of course, but you can live…
And I lived, spending the next month on restoring and stabilizing my own energy. Well, I studied local magic, of course, taking full advantage of the fact that, unlike the spells I was used to, wand magic did not require active aura work… A completely different principle of witchcraft, which allows me not to miss my former opportunities so much. Although, I was already quite busy preparing my own body for blood magic and Yoga classes…
In general, I was such a specialist in these areas of great art. But due to the fact that I was a very sickly and weak child as a child, my father hired me a Yoga master at that time, which taught me some practices that strengthened my body and allowed me to get out of very, very nasty situations in the future. Actually, it was because of this that I had some complaints about the current body. I'm too used to the body, which without any magic will allow me to fight off or escape from a small squad of horsemen or ordinary guards…
And I was not going to give up such an advantage, which can greatly improve the quality of my life, not to mention the increase in purely combat capabilities. Therefore, a special set of physical exercises, combined with some purely magical practices to improve the body, are firmly entrenched in my schedule… And even though for now such practices were more like self-torture, because of the already adult, stiffened body. But they bring benefits in any case, and therefore I was ready to tolerate not the most pleasant sensations.
However, gradually I began to get bored with self-isolation in the Black mansion, and the food over the past months had almost come to an end... And therefore, I was already beginning to think about starting to study a new reality for me a little more fully, and not through the prism of my involuntary donor's memories and not limited to the Black library alone. Fortunately, a couple of months was enough for me to regain some kind of physical shape and cope with most of the most acute consequences of aura damage.
So, I was no longer writhing in pain after applying any serious spells. And the magic of the Word has become available to me again, albeit with reservations… My aura had thinned out a lot, which is why I simply could not keep the same number of spells in it, becoming an exemplary magic apprentice in this regard. Seven medium spells suspended in the aura is my current limit. About something more serious, there is no question at all.
I won't risk using the most powerful spells of Word magic right now. Overexerting the aura is still not recommended for me. Yes, and I don't have a place in the aura for such spells, Maxim will pull one powerful spell. These archmages can store eight or ten strong spells in the aura, but even at the peak of their capabilities, such a thing was beyond my control. In general, it's not worth it, especially since the same wand magic partially covers my weakness, allowing me to conjure almost instantly without straining my aura.
In general, yes, I was more or less ready to go out into the world… However, the world reminded me of itself before I decided to leave the walls of my already familiar mansion. A small group of my former comrades, led by one of Regulus' friends, Barty Crouch Jr., came to the door of my house… Outwardly, they did not show aggression, but remembering the loss of my brownie, I went out to them anyway in a very combative mood.
Unfortunately, I had already deactivated the protection of the mansion by that time, intending to leave this place, which is why I could not count on the fact that the house would be able to restrain the magicians looking for me for a long time. And therefore there was no special point in hiding, rather on the contrary, it was necessary to wipe out and directly resolve possible issues ... Especially since it was Barty who came to me – my predecessor's best friend, who even for the sake of his lord would hardly have voluntarily agreed to my murder.