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Basilisk

Reborn in the dreaded confines of the Chamber of Secrets, the royal basilisk of Salazar Slytherin, it will not remain so for long. Translation from Russian. Original Russian author: MikhailSkr https://ficbook.net/readfic/12344412

Charlottess · 書籍·文学
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83 Chs

Another order of honour

She was certainly dashing! No doubt, she was my pupil and felt the weight of my authority. Thus, she gradually embraced my worldview, including my philosophy of problem-solving. For her, I was and remain a mentor, a cherished figure from her childhood that grew into deeper sentiments when she consciously nurtured them within herself. All of this is true. However, one must consider the ramifications!

Maria is now shielded from widespread condemnation and oppression by two key factors. Firstly, her patronage from the Church, embodied by her spiritual guide, Cardinal Vencenzo Amati, Master of the Order of Knights of the Creator. Secondly, her association with me, as I am now the most renowned and illustrious magician in all of Europe. Without the support of the Cardinal and myself, they would have endeavored to eradicate her, despite her affiliation with one of the wealthiest families in Europe. Her actions could potentially destabilize and, in the worst-case scenario, bring about the demise of one of the patrician families that have held power in Rome since imperial times. There is no assurance that this young woman will not attempt the same against other adversaries in the future.

It is one thing to remove a personal adversary from another family's camp. Indeed, this would make them an enemy of blood. However, such confrontation is not necessarily irreconcilable, nor does it involve a desire to annihilate every member of the opposing faction. The battlefield is primarily situated in the realms of politics and economics. This was the tradition in Rome since its imperial era, and it is one of the implicit rules governing the forty ruling families of the city. Yet, someone from outside has altered the main branch of a family that believed itself to be unassailable.

And that caused all the other families to think about the danger posed by Marie Françoise Badoër. Alas, I wish I did not have to intervene. The only way I see to achieve even temporary safety for the young girl is to make the elite of Rome fear themselves more than my student. That is, to turn their attention towards me. Then, Maria will be forgotten — at least while I am alive. Well, I will think about that later. For now, I must focus on what Alfonso is saying.

"Who are they, precisely, and what do they desire?" I regained control of my body from my second stream of consciousness and joined the conversation fully. The mention of witches pricked my ears. Do such beings exist in this world? "Tell me more about them."

I am astonished that you have not heard of them. This is an ancient order that was founded in the fifth century and continues to operate in Eastern Europe today. They are a kind of mercenaries who take orders to eliminate various magical creatures and evil entities.

As I understand it, the first Witcher was the son of a powerful ancient mage named Alzur. This mighty life magician and unparalleled chimerologist accompanied the Goths to Europe during their invasion. According to ancient chronicles, he fell in love in the fourth century with an ungifted young woman, the daughter of one of the numerous princes whose domain was located on the territory of what is now the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth.

Realising that his beloved's life was short, Alzur devoted all his efforts to extending her lifespan. He dedicated himself to experimentation and scientific research, which led to him missing a revolt instigated by discontented subjects of his father-in-law. The uprising occurred while Alzur's wife and infant son were visiting her father.. Consequently, his wife met her demise at the hands of a sword, with her son cradled in her embrace. Upon sensing his mother's passing, the young boy experienced a powerful surge of magical energy, resulting in the annihilation of all the assailants. However, this act also left the boy with the unfortunate status of a squib.

In a state of fury, Alzur rushed to the scene of the carnage perpetrated by the conspirators. Upon arriving at the manor of his father-in-law and the chambers of his beloved, he discovered only the corpses of those responsible for his wife's demise and his own son's transformation into a squib — her lifeless body and the unconscious form of his son.

Driven by his grief, Alzur embarked on a path of vengeance, traversing the lands of his late father-in-law like a bloody scythe, leaving no trace of the descendants of those who had brought such sorrow into his life and robbed his son of his innocence.

Having slaked his thirst for vengeance, he found himself holding an infant in his arms, one who would never experience the joy of learning the arcane mysteries of magic. Thus, he set his mind to a new goal: to transform this child into a powerful mage, to restore his own ability to perform magical feats.

Alzur, a masterful chimera researcher and life magician, embarked on a quest to solve the conundrum of the missing magical core. He delved into the realm of grafting magical creature organs and extracting their essence to create a solution. After ten years of dedicated research and experimentation, he achieved his objective. He devised a complex system of potions, surgeries, rituals, and intensive training, which enabled those who underwent it to manipulate magical energy flows. While this system primarily focused on internal magical abilities, only a limited number of external spells were accessible to those trained.

Thousands of victims, subjected to his experiments, met their fate on his operating tables and within the confines of his ritual chambers. Yet, at the tender age of twelve, Alzur's son emerged as the first witcher! However, this was not the outcome he had envisioned.. After all, he had never succeeded in making his son a fully-fledged sorcerer. However, the young man was now far more robust and powerful than any of the best-trained sorcerers. He also possessed a resistance to magical powers, only slightly inferior to that of mountain trolls themselves.

Witold, the son of Alzur and the progenitor of the Witcher Order, was over a century of age when he established his own mercenary organization. His Order only accepted contracts for the elimination of supernatural entities and malevolent forces. They refrained from taking on assignments involving the eradication of mages or ordinary humans, and they always fulfilled their commitments with utmost dedication. This shielded them from the scrutiny of religious authorities and other powerful entities for a period of time.

However, in the thirteenth century, the Inquisition erupted, bringing about a shift in the landscape. The distinctive features that set Witches apart — their unnatural eyes, ranging from ashy-pale to reddish hues, and their slightly deformed jaws with protruding fangs — became their undoing. These traits made them a prime target for the fanatical zealots of the Church. For a brief period exceeding a century, Witches were subjected to relentless persecution, with no regard for collateral damage.. However, one day, the inquisitors and witches found themselves on the same side, united in their efforts to contain the tide of ghouls that poured forth from Transylvania and Romania in vast hordes. This event granted the witches a respite from the Church's scrutiny and a right to existence. After all, it was thanks to their efforts that they were able to quell this potential source of plague in time — thousands of undead creatures.

In the fifteenth century, witches were first subjected to persecution and extermination by the Church, followed by a five-year conflict on the borders of Transylvania, leaving only a few hundred of them alive.

Yesterday, Olaf, the current leader of the Witcher order, contacted me. He requested my assistance in contacting you. Rumors of your expertise and power as Europe's foremost wizard have reached their ears. They have commissioned you for a task. They are prepared to offer a substantial remuneration, but I require the details of the order or payment. Olaf only wishes to engage with you directly. Given our well-known friendship, they have asked me to convey their invitation for a meeting.

Allow me to share this: they actively contribute to the well-being of ordinary individuals. Their commitment to honesty is unwavering. Therefore, it would be intriguing to engage with them. If you accept, you can trust that they will uphold every contractual agreement.

This is intriguing information. I have never encountered the Witchers before, nor have I crossed paths with them. Nevertheless, I am already consumed with curiosity to delve into their organization, structure, and the nature of this Alzur who has transformed mundane individuals into mages, albeit diminished.

How do I make contact with them? I am willing to explore such unconventional representatives of the mystical realm.

In my mind, a multitude of theories and possibilities collide, pondering how such a feat could be accomplished and what Alzur might have done to achieve it. Heh, heh, heh. The investigative itch is back! I experienced a similar sensation in my youth, when the effects of spermotoxicosis were clouding my mind. I eagerly anticipated meeting a young lady, knowing that by evening, I would succeed in gaining access beneath her skirts. Oh, the echoes of exhilaration and desire! My memories bring forth images from the past.

Indeed, this is not how I envisioned my libido reawakening. Who would have thought that my loins would stir to life not from the sight of a beautiful maiden but from the prospect of engaging in intriguing research?

The encounter with Olaf, head of the Witchcraft Council, occurred three days later.

Svyatozar and I now found ourselves in the office of his twin, where business meetings were conducted. The demonologist had graciously made this space available for our negotiations.

"Greetings, Svyatozar," Olaf, the head of the Witcher Order, began. "I am Olav, and I have noticed your Norwegian accent. Let us continue our discussion in your native tongue, as I see that German proves difficult for you."

"Hello, Olaf," Svyatozar replied. "What brings you here, so far from home?"

Svyatozar spoke in a dialect of Norwegian, thanks to Helga's assistance.

"Shall we get to the point? That would be best. Our Order finds itself in a dire state, with fewer than a hundred members, whereas once there were many thousands," Olaf said with evident sadness, unsurprised by Svyatozar's command of his native language.

The Church, in its efforts to eradicate us, has been relentless in attempting to tarnish our image and intimidate the populace residing in the vicinity of our stronghold. As a consequence, it has become nearly impossible for us to attract new members from among the children who could potentially join our ranks after undergoing training, preparation, and initiation.

The clergy have learned that not all candidates successfully complete the initiation process, and the true attrition rate is one in five, but the Church deliberately inflates it to four out of five to discourage potential recruits. However, this issue is unrelated to our Order's operations.

In addition to the scarcity of individuals willing to join due to our notoriety, we also face the challenge of recruiting Witches for initiation. To address this, we require the assistance of a mage with expertise in chimerology, rituals, and potion-making.

I require further details regarding the initiation issue. While I can grasp the general nature of the problem, I am still awaiting specific information. How can one negotiate without precise details?

The Witcher initiation ritual requires a number of ingredients, one of which is Cyclops' blood. Certain special potions used in preparation for initiation also require the fur of a Nemean lion. Now, everything seems to be more or less clear, except for one thing — the issue is not the amount of work but rather the impossibility of obtaining the necessary materials. The last of the Cyclops were wiped out in the fifth century AD, and the Nemean lions disappeared even earlier, centuries before the birth of Christ. As a result, the Order is left without any way to create new recruits.

The issue at hand is clear, but I require further elaboration on the extent of the task. To accurately estimate the scope, I must first familiarize myself with the initiation rite, the concoction of the potion, and the entire process of creating a Witcher.

After all, even the slightest, most trivial alteration in one stage of the initiation process or the materials required for it can result in significant deviations in subsequent stages. Without recalculating the compatibility and numerological formula of the rite with new coefficients and ingredients, nothing will function properly.

Why is he so impatient? What does he expect me to do? Assist him in solving their initiation problem without thoroughly researching all the materials related to this process? How peculiar.

If that is the case, then we must proceed to our citadel, where all information regarding the secret of our rite of initiation is kept. No one outside the citadel is permitted to discuss it.

Oh, quite so. Apparently, those who undergo the initiation and survive it immediately take an oath of secrecy regarding the mysteries of the Order.

"And you must understand that I cannot disclose the cost. However, I have formed a rough estimate of the amount of knowledge necessary for a sorcerer to accomplish this task. I am the only one in Europe who possesses this knowledge, at least among those who are known."

He frowned at my words, perhaps thinking I was trying to raise the price. But I was not. I was the only rational person who could prevent the Order's eventual extinction.

"When are you ready to depart, Svyatozar?" he asked, ignoring my remark.

"We can leave immediately. How shall we get there?"

What was I saying? By horseback, of course. They had not yet invented portkeys. In fact, modern magicians had yet to learn how to create them. But I had already invented and tested the technology for their production.

"On horseback," I replied. "I have three other brethren of the Order with me, and the journey should take about two weeks."

"Oh, no," I said. "That's far too long."

I rose from my seat and gestured for Olaf to follow me outside. "Let's go."

He hesitated. "Don't you need to pack?"

I understood his reluctance, for I was dressed in city attire. It still irked me that men's clothing was now referred to as dresses. Rather, the term applied to both men's and women's garments. I did not possess a cloak or other traveling gear, and satin trousers were not ideal for a fortnight's journey.

"It's alright," I assured him. "I always keep my essentials close at hand."

Once outside Alfonso's estate, Olaf headed straight for his steed, tethered in a stable. Meanwhile, I invoked the spirit I inherited from Khohnan, and my snow-white steed appeared magnificent. However, it was not at all knightly. It resembled an Arabian mount, and every line of its body exuded speed and recklessness.

As we departed Alfonso's abode, Olaf and I were accompanied by three burly individuals already mounted on horseback, clad in long, deeply hooded capes. While Olaf's eyes lacked the exoticism of his companions', possessing only a slightly elongated iris, the eyes of his escorts were a study in diversity. One was a kaleidoscope of red, green, and yellow, reminiscent of a werewolf in the full moon.

Such faces would not be welcome in any company.

Olaf was not a verbose individual. We had traversed more than a dozen leagues from Vienna, yet he had not uttered a word. Neither, for that matter, had his brethren in the order.

Now, it was time to set forth. As we rode away from the city, I allowed myself to delve into the thoughts of Olaf and his companions. They bore no mind-protective artifacts, save for the amulets of sorcery and obsession. However, their heads were adorned with a plethora of such artifacts, akin to a Christmas tree laden with ornaments, not all of which were sanctioned. A few were downright sinister.

Olaf, I propose that we all proceed en masse to your stronghold. Yes, I am aware of its location. Indeed, I have the capability to transport us there.

His expression was skeptical, but he nodded in agreement. Traveling through portals in modern times is akin to a mythical feat of ancient sorcerers. It has been centuries since anyone in Europe demonstrated such proficiency. Well, it makes sense. Crafting a portal requires the expertise of a mage at least of the sixth octave and proficient in spatial magic. And if such individuals exist today, they are exceedingly rare.

As the portal materialized, revealing the stronghold on the other side, none of the witches seemed surprised. Tough lot, indeed. Clearly, they frequently engage with part-time mages and master portal creators.

After confirming, using their own methods without my notice, that the portal indeed led to the stronghold, they proceeded individually. Only then did I follow.

The Witcher's citadel was a massive fortress, measuring approximately seven hundred meters in diameter and standing fifteen meters high. The structure bore witness to a bygone era, yet the path leading up to the modest gate remained well-groomed, adorned with fragments of rubble and dust.

Upon entering the fortress, a sense of desolation permeated the vast courtyard. We encountered no one except for the sentry at the gate who granted us entry.

"Come, Svyatozar," I said to Olaf. "I shall assign you to an apartment adjacent to mine. There is much work ahead of you, and among the brethren of the Order, there are no accredited mages or scholars who can assist you in any meaningful way. Thus, we must determine what resources we possess within our library regarding the creation of Witches. However, all the laboratory journals and research notes of Alzur and his progeny remain intact. Without this information, I would be grappling with this issue until the end of time."

Once settled, I declined the offer of dinner and requested Olaf to escort me to the library.

Brother Marcus, escort Svyatozar to the library and apprise him of the contents and location thereof.

Do they all take a vow of silence, or do they simply prefer it? Even the holiest of Catholic cloisters have a more vibrant ambiance.

"Here, Svyatozar," he said. "On this shelf, you will find the writings and works of Alzur and his son, as well as the contributions of other mages who once belonged to our brotherhood. You will also find a comprehensive guide on how to prepare the subject for the ritual, along with recipes for all the necessary potions and remedies. And here is the ritual itself."

After sharing this information, he simply turned and walked away. Such peculiar individuals. Here I am, trying to help them, and yet they seem to have a dislike for me for some unknown reason. Even though they may attempt to conceal their true feelings, it is impossible to hide one's thoughts and emotions from a mentalist unless one possesses strong mental defenses. Or perhaps it is because I am a master of a Catholic order closely associated with the Church, which caused them trouble centuries ago? Perhaps, but I will discover the truth in due course.

Upon witnessing Marcus's departure, I promptly turned my attention to the bookshelf and appraised the magnitude of the task at hand. The volume of literature here is sufficient to engage me in thoughtful study for an entire year, and that's not even counting the lab journals. Indeed, it will require thorough examination, application, and observation across the full spectrum of my available senses, allowing me to diagnose outcomes and delve into the intricate details of the technological process behind the creation of a chimerical being known as the "Witcher". Heh-heh-heh. This promises to be quite an intriguing endeavor.

Thus, after two years of profound and fascinating research, I can declare with certainty that Alzur was indeed a genius! His ability to expertly circumvent the required knowledge in areas of magic that he did not possess was truly remarkable. He accomplished this feat solely through the use of chimerology, akin to magic and ritualistic practices.

Alfonso spoke of the countless victims that Alzur subjected to his experiments. However, I cannot help but suspect that the number was far greater than a mere hundred thousand. How did he acquire such a vast pool of test subjects? It is unlikely that he found them in Europe, as the Church and authorities would have swiftly turned against him, unwilling to forgive the loss of lives caused by his experiments.

Nonetheless, it is not the focus of my inquiry. Alzur did not possess any specific knowledge of soul magic or the intricacies of spirit shells. Instead, he masterfully adapted various procedures, concocted potions, introduced extracts, and conducted meditations that, when combined in a complex ritual, could influence the shells of souls through alterations in the physical body. The intricate nature of this ritual is what truly sets it apart.. At the outset, the body underwent a process of purification through the use of potions, meditation, and fasting. Once the body was deemed ready for transformation, a series of extracts and elixirs were administered into the spinal cord, bone marrow, heart, liver, and other vital organs. These substances altered the very genetic makeup of the body, imbuing it with the attenuated attributes and abilities of magical creatures whose bodies and organs had been employed in the creation of these extracts and elixirs.

Mortality during the ritual stemmed from the fact that becoming a Witcher required being a squib, or a mage with a damaged magical core. With a well-developed network of magical pathways, it was possible to conduct the ritual while maintaining their presence. Through this connection, the ritual profoundly impacted the soul, facilitating the acceptance of the newly acquired physical changes. This process involved embedding and integrating these alterations within the astral body, establishing connections with the newly formed organs that emerged in the Witch after transformation.

The creation of Witchery required five extracts, which were infused into different parts of the body. The first extract served as the foundation, without which the other four could not survive. This extract was derived from the essence of vitality extracted from the blood of a Cyclops and imbued the body of the future Witcher with a forbidden regeneration ability. Wounds healed in mere seconds, leaving behind a weakened version of this regeneration that would remain with the Witcher for the rest of his life.

He would not be able to regrow a new arm. However, he could still pick up his intestines from the ground, put them back in his abdomen, bandage himself, and be as good as new within a week — provided that the intestines had not been punctured and the wound had not been poisoned or affected by magic, which depended on the Witcher's immunity and resistance to magical effects. Witchers possessed slightly weaker resistance to magical influence than mountain trolls did.

The second concoction is derived from the blood and pituitary gland of a mountain troll. It grants the Witcher immunity to low-level magical spells. It significantly mitigates the effects of spells of medium potency and magical influence. Additionally, it reduces pain sensitivity.

The third elixir is crafted from the blood of werewolves. It enhances strength, agility, vitality, and sensory acuity. Witches exhibit enhanced night vision, hearing, and olfactory perception. They also develop animal instincts.

The fourth potion incorporates the hair of a Nemean lion. It imbues the Witcher with strength and resilience against physical harm.

Finally, the fifth extract can take four forms. It bestows the Witcher with specific abilities associated with the animals whose organs serve as its components.

As a result, there are four distinct schools of Witchcraft: the Wolf School, Snake School, Cat School, and Bear School, each employing the organs of different animals to create the fifth potion.

Those who partook in the Wolf-derived extract gained the capacity to mentally dominate these creatures. They were able to briefly perceive through the eyes of the subdued beast. Depending on one's strength, a Witcher could overpower anywhere from a few individuals to an entire pack numbering several dozen wolves. Moreover, they possess an exceptional sense of smell.

Serpents who consumed the extract gained infrared vision, rendering them more resistant to toxins. They also exhibited superior agility compared to the other three factions.

The Witchers of the Koth School exhibited slightly lesser agility than the serpents, yet they possessed the ability to see in the dark, akin to daylight. Their keen senses of smell and hearing were also noteworthy. These attributes constituted their strengths.

And then there is the school of bears — the tanks. They possess immense strength, several orders of magnitude greater than that of the rest of us. These creatures can effortlessly hurl up to several tonnes of weight. Their defence is even more impressive, as they are capable of partially transforming during combat, coating their skin with durable and resilient fur.

Having fully comprehended the process of crafting a Witcher, I have devised a few strategies to address their predicament.

The ingredients for the serum can be replaced with less rare components. The wool of the Nemean lion can be substituted with the scales of wyverns, which are considered to be dragons. The resulting serum, of course, would have a slightly coarser and more robust texture, but it would still yield a similar effect to the original extract, albeit with some minor differences.

The blood of a Cyclops can only be substituted with that of a Phoenix, which is also a rare component. Finding it on the market may be challenging, but it is not impossible, unlike the extinct Cyclops itself. Following these changes to the primary ingredients, a series of adjustments were made, including modifications to the dosage, substitutions of other components, and alterations to the cooking process. These changes were aimed at maintaining cost-effectiveness.

Naturally, the initiation ritual for the Witcher needed to be recalibrated for the new extracts, which would take me no more than a month to complete.

But I desired something more. Having delved into the inner workings of Witches' bodies and the transformations within their souls, I conceived an ambitious endeavor to create an entire biological species. As it stands, Witches are infertile chimeras. The initiation ritual, a veritable sea of energy consumption, draws upon sources from all corners, including the very substance of their bodies. Moreover, the reproductive system does not undergo the obligatory preservation during the initiation process. Thus, the organism itself is transformed into a building block, serving to enhance the physical form of the prospective Witcher.

I could create a new, autonomous species that could reproduce and exhibit significantly improved characteristics. However, such modifications to the ritual process would entail a substantial increase in cost. After all, the primary component, which would be injected into the spinal column, would be derived from my own blood and venom. And only a Parselmouth is capable of obtaining the blood of an ancient basilisk, which must be given voluntarily rather than extracted from a corpse. This makes this ingredient even more valuable, as there are only a select few who can communicate with snakes. There are only a handful of clans throughout Asia that possess this ability. Master Ryōtsu and his descendants reside in Japan, while three royal families reside in India. In Persia, the Slytherins once existed, but they are now considered extinct.

Indeed, this ritual involving my blood necessitates the use of a magical negator. This is an artefact designed to suppress magic, rather than nullify it or de-magify a space. Such an effect is only possible within a space that has been specially enchanted with rune chains and shielded from the outside world. The negator creates an interference with the radiation emitted by multiple spectra of magic of various frequencies and hues. A similar phenomenon can be observed near powerful natural sources of magic that emit chaotic streams of mana, interfering with magical energies. It was fortunate that I had access to such an artefact.

In the course of his thirty-fifth year, Salazar attained the pinnacle of power in the fifth octave. During this time, Europe would not have boasted a hundred wizards of such magnitude. Their abilities could unleash a localized apocalypse on a scale equivalent to a metropolis teeming with millions. Within the Sumerian hierarchy of power, such individuals were akin to either a highly potent master of sorcery or a formidable novice. With this level of prowess, a sorcerer represented a formidable force. However, there were less than a hundred such individuals, and even more potent mages existed.

This reality compelled Salazar to continuously delve into the realm of obscure and forbidden knowledge, as well as engage in self-improvement. Salazar was aware that confronting individuals like Godric, Rowena, or Helga would result in his demise approximately ninety percent of the time. The prospect of surviving such encounters hinged solely on cunning and fortune, rather than his own personal strength. This realization left him deeply unsettled.

It was then that he resolved to fashion himself a negator of magic, a device that is now so frequently employed by the Inquisition and paladins. The invention of these ancient Egyptian sorcerers predates the current era by more than three and a half millennia. Among the most potent negators of antiquity, the one that still survives is now in the possession of the descendants of the Osman dynasty and the rulers of their eponymous empire. It serves as the final line of defense for the Ottoman palace in Istanbul.

For its creation, Ehnaton, the pharaoh of ancient Egypt, commissioned the sacrifice of 1,500 enslaved individuals, each gifted, who were subjected to torture and died as part of the ritual required to craft and imbue this negator with the utmost potency in the annals of history. Salazar, in turn, slew a hundred mages in order to forge his own negator. Its power is sufficient to erect an anti-magical barrier spanning a radius of over a hundred meters for several hours, requiring slightly more than a day to fully recharge.

The magic negator, however, is by no means an infallible solution, nor is it an absolute means of subduing the magical abilities of wizards within the confines of its influence. There may come a day when you encounter a wizard whose power surpasses by one and a half or more times the collective might of all the magically gifted individuals subjected to ritual torture in their creation. Such a wizard can perform spells and breach the anti-magical barrier with their own magical prowess.

However, even with my current strength at seven and a half octants, I find it challenging to cast spells within the area affected by the barrier created by the artifact I inherited from Salazar. It is difficult to imagine the impact that the negator currently in Ottoman possession, which once belonged to Ehnaton, might have. This is one of the reasons why I am reluctant to venture there. Dark lords are rare beings, a singular entity in the entire world, and as long as I draw breath, no other shall be bestowed with this title.

This is all part of the Baneistic canon, and the Sith applaud its accuracy.

I am describing the operation of this artefact, which is a meticulously structured system of mystical nooses extracted from the souls of victims, stacked one upon another. When activated, they generate a sphere whose dimensions depend on the quantity and potency of the souls involved in its creation. Within this sphere, an unstable and chaotic magical background develops, akin to that found around untamed natural sources of arcane energy.

As a human with the power of an archmage and access to the negator's anti-magic field, I have often engaged in magical practices under its influence. Through these exercises, I have honed my abilities to counteract the effects of the field. With each attempt within the barrier, my magical abilities become increasingly refined, allowing me to execute my spells with greater ease. Consequently, the potency and swiftness of my incantations within the anti-magical field are nearly equivalent to those performed in its absence.

Should they seek to acquire my most advanced design for enhancing their initiation rituals, they must either submit to my dominion or transform their entire Order into a collective of Dragon Knights.