I have now achieved the status of an Archimage!

Farewell, warriors.

These were my final words to those heroes of yore who had departed into the cycle of samsara. I was confident that Khohnan would maintain his identity and continue to exist in his next incarnation. After all, he possessed a ninth soul casing. His companions also had a strong likelihood of achieving the same fate, and I provided them with some assistance. Before bidding them farewell, I bestowed blessings upon them. In layers, like crystalline vases, I encased them in the sacred energy of the One's Egregore, preparing them for their journey.

It is indeed a privilege to possess virtually unrestricted access to the divine realms, where one is not subject to reproach for excessive expenditure of ba-hion. I am the sole Archimage fortunate enough to have been granted this privilege, successfully passing the authentication process for access to the Egregore of the One.

My fallen comrades in arms, who alongside me sealed the pact with the Demon God, departed with ease and without remorse, unafraid of the prospect of death. However, before their passing, each of them bestowed upon me their entire knowledge of magic. The task of mastering it will prove to be a formidable one, even at first glance. Only the divine creator knows the multitude of challenges that lie ahead.

Upon their departure, I assumed possession of all eleven warriors' belongings, which they had bequeathed to me. Additionally, Khohnan entrusted me with his role as his White Horse's supreme spirit, offering me his allegiance. Thanks to Rowena's remembrance of the shamanic knowledge at my disposal, I swiftly established a spiritual connection with him, allowing me to summon his aid whenever necessary.

Before my departure, I chose to cremate the remains of the High and Archmages of Light. It was a decision that was not influenced by their potential as ideal materials for the creation of lich and dark artifacts. I could not bring myself to treat them in such a manner, despite the fact that they had been instrumental in holding back the ancient evil for over twenty thousand years for the benefit of their people, whom I believe to be the ancestors of the Slavic peoples.

However, I now possess the nearly intact body of a full-fledged god. If this being were not a spawn of chaos, I would have consumed its heart. Nevertheless, what rewards might such a meal offer me, I cannot say. In addition to the body, I also possess its sealed soul, necessitating a swift decision regarding its fate. However, before taking such action, it is imperative that I prioritize my own well-being. The vessel can contain this chaotic essence for a few years, yet it would be wise to seek guidance from Alfonso, as time is of utmost importance.

Having gathered all the belongings of the warriors, stowing them away in my dimensional pocket, and grasping the leg of the fallen deity with my gloved hand, I proceeded to the hidden stronghold in the highlands. The process of apparition this time consumed about a hundred times more energy than usual, partly due to the strain on my spiritual shells, which had weakened my control and resulted in parasitic losses, but primarily because I was carrying the corpse of a deceased god, which, even bereft of a soul, exuded a substantial amount of energy.

Upon arriving in the ritual chamber of my sanctuary, I established a protective barrier, within which I deposited the corpse. To ensure complete containment, I employed several additional Celtic incantations from the realm of necromancy, designed to prevent any mana from condensing within the cadaver, so to speak, ensuring its integrity. My sole objective was the creation of a Lich, the undead avatar of the God of Chaos.

Only then did I venture into the pantry in search of the necessary ingredients? I was keen to concoct a few abhorrent elixirs designed to restore my spirit as swiftly as possible. These concoctions were often brewed by Salazar for his own use when he embarked on his studies and experiments in the realm of dark, and occasionally even black, magic.

Nevertheless, Albus Dumbledore was partially correct in his assertion that dark magic and the act of murder can cause a rift in one's soul. However, it does not literally split it in two.

The prolonged exposure to darkness, lacking proper rigorous control, inflicts severe damage on the sensual and intellectual faculties of the spirit, distorting its essence. Following intense dark sorcery, it becomes imperative to regularly engage in purifying rituals and consume potent elixirs and potions. Simultaneously, it is essential to mitigate the impact of darkness on one's own mind and emotions. Otherwise, one may transform into a psychopathic individual whose magical essence gradually ossifies, rendering them capable solely of Dark magic. Moreover, frequent and multiple acts of violence leave an indelible mark on one's karma.

Salazar's karma was particularly dark, earning him the moniker bestowed upon him by the world — the Dark Lord. However, the Buddhist belief in karma, which posits that good deeds are rewarded and evil deeds are punished in equal measure, is nothing but folly. Karma serves as a passport, a record of one's deeds, virtues, actions, and achievements — nothing more.

For a month and a half, I remained in seclusion, immersed in contemplation and the consumption of potions in liters. Previously, I had been skeptical, believing I would need to polish my spiritual armor and heal minor injuries for years. However, I underestimated the power of sacred energy from the crucifix. The energy of light proved to be the most effective remedy for such injuries. After forty-four days of treatment, I was fully restored, even exceeding my previous state. The capacity of my magical intellect and the entire network of magical channels had increased by approximately one and a half times, while my own magical reservoir had expanded by about a tenth. Currently, I am approximately thirty to thirty-five percent short of attaining the eighth octave. This is an extraordinary achievement, surpassing the strength of Salazar and Morgana, who have never encountered anyone stronger than the eighth octave in their lifetimes.

Now I am ready to resume my journey, and I must seek guidance from Alfonso.

Greetings, my friend. It is clear that your second springtime has left you unchanged, as you continue to be a recluse, absorbed in your studies, uninterested in anything beyond the confines of the ritual chamber and workshops.

Prior to my appointment as head of the Prague numerology guild, I dispatched my patronus with a message expressing my desire to meet with him. His response arrived only after a full day and night had passed.

Upon reaching his residence, my patronus, previously imbued with the spell of access to his abode, presented itself before my friend during a moment when he was engaged in torturing a demon within a pentagram that confined it. The presence of my familiar, however, proved to be more effective in loosening the demon's lips than the week's worth of torment it had already endured.

When my Basilisk, upon Alfonso's request, ventured into the circumscribed area where the representative of the Inferno was struggling under Inanna's radiance, it emitted a howl of terror. And there was good reason for this: my companion could have extinguished his soul and consigned him to a new beginning. The unfortunate creature was merely a demon of the middle circle, and the venom of the basilisk would have effortlessly erased his magical intellect.

"And greetings to you, Svyatozar. To be young again is an exhilarating experience. Such energy and vitality! And the time to engage in interesting pursuits without the interruption of rest and slumber! I adore it! Thank you, friend."

Indeed, most individuals, indeed, most people, nearly everyone, save a few, upon regaining a youthful form, would first seek to satiate their carnal desires.

"Well, why have I come to see you… do you not wish to be my kin?" I astonished Alfonso with this proposition.

He appeared utterly bewildered and incredulous.

"I did not simply hear that. Are you suggesting that I become the twin of Salazar Slytherin himself?!"

He is a remarkable character, and his performance is nothing short of remarkable. How does he, as a demonologist, maintain such vivid emotionality without viewing the world through the lens of pain and darkness?

"I did not hear that," I replied with a grin. He is fun and interesting company.

I agree!

But why do I desire to make him my twin? I seek a truly loyal companion, if not a partner in all my endeavors, then at the very least a neutral party who cannot betray or harm me. The essence of the twinning ritual is far stronger and more profound than the bonds of parent-child relationships. It is akin in its steadfastness, straightforwardness, and strength to the ancient rite of full marriage, which in terms of execution, purpose, and function is virtually identical across all known magical cultures.

All the Founders underwent this ritual in order to prevent a stab in the back from their twin. It serves as a safeguard against any attempt by one twin to raise a hand against the other. Even in the event of a sudden and deadly conflict, it would prevent them from harming or interfering with their twin's plans.

Meanwhile, I required materials for the creation of an Archimage staff, and Alfonso was the only person I knew who could provide them. However, I was also cautious about creating temptations for treachery by revealing the jar containing the sealed god to him. This prize was too valuable to be compared to anything else, and Alfonso, above all others, should understand its significance.

There were no ritual circles, scarce ingredients, or specific conditions required for the twinning ritual.

What was required was a vessel, which I materialized, any non-magical receptacle devoid of mana content. It could even be mere water. However, with the understanding that the blood of sentient beings participating in the ritual would be added to it, typically, some form of juice or wine was employed to enhance the flavor. And then, the oaths that bind us as brothers in spirit and blood, uttered with sincerity and ardent desire.

This was all that was needed. Thus, we performed the ceremony in Alfonso's living room, where he welcomed me into his home. From that moment on, I placed my complete trust in him, for he had become my other self. And it was then that I expressed my requests: "Alfonso, do you possess any Fraya obsidian?"

It was now feasible to broach the subject of the primary objective of my visit with him. While I harbored little expectation that he possessed any Fraya Black Obsidian, it was a material of extraordinary rarity even in the era of ancient Sumer, and all known deposits had been exhausted and dispersed among the repositories of hereditary mage dynasties, leaving no free access.

"I have it," he said. "Decided to fashion yourself a staff?"

"Indeed," I replied. "This material can be put to many uses, but using it for any purpose other than the creation of an Archimage staff would be akin to hammering nails with a microscope or tilling a field with a Bugatti Veyron plough."

He nodded. "Yes, I see. Can I sell it to you or trade it for equally valuable ingredients or materials? Believe me, I have something of equal value to offer in return."

I was already mentally rubbing my hands in anticipation. Suppose he could provide me with even a couple of kilograms of this glass, in which case I would have enough to staff the original capacity of the Absorber with a couple of deities. Ideally, however, I would like five kilograms, which would allow it to hold five divine souls simultaneously. Should I succeed, I would need to make more.

Over time, the staff would become accustomed to at least one divine soul imprisoned within it. Even if initially crafted with only one kilogram of black obsidian, its capacity would begin to expand. It could accommodate another soul of similar energy weight in approximately half a millennium. While not a significant issue, I desired to create a high-quality item from the outset.

"Well, I can provide you with fifty kilograms without significant harm to myself," he said. "And I require nothing in return. It is my gift to you."

Oh, he has quite a bit of knowledge! I nearly dropped my jaw in a most undignified manner and stood before him with an expression of utter foolishness. Fifty! Good grief! Kilos! I do hope this is not some sort of jest.

"Are you serious? How did you acquire all this information?"

I was truly astonished that he possessed so much knowledge. I was equally surprised that he was willing to impart it to me without charge.

He shrugged. "My lineage dates back to the sixth century BCE. We have been demonologists throughout our history, first in service to pagan Rome and then Christian Rome. We were the first among our demonological kin to sense where the winds of change were blowing and that things would soon undergo a dramatic transformation. Rod Bruns swiftly made contact with the newly established Church. When there were purges of unwanted elements, particularly demonology practitioners, we always sided with the Church and were at the forefront in confronting them. Naturally, my forebears were at the vanguard when the spoils were divided."

Now it all falls into place for me. They have appropriated all the valuable items for themselves. If you are unfamiliar with this subject, and need to learn about demonology, then you cannot even begin to imagine the value of most of the items in the possession of demonologists. Nor can the clergy.

Well, since this is the case, here is my response to you. With these words, I removed one arm, one leg, several ribs, and a flask containing a litre of the blood of a demonic deity from my pocket. Alfonso did not ask me what they were. Nevertheless, he immediately began examining the parts of the monster's body I had presented.

"Well, well, well!" he exclaimed, casting a scanning spell with a wave of his hand. As the results came back to him, he became agitated and created a ritual circle, causing a wave to pass through the air with a flick of his wrist.

The circle appeared on the beautiful Persian rug, irrevocably marring its surface. Yet, this work of art, crafted with magic, was nothing short of remarkable. He dispelled the circle with a thought, stunned by the initial findings of the magical diagnostic.

For a moment, he was lost in contemplation of my gift, completely absorbed in the task at hand. When he emerged from the trance, receiving information from the ritual, his gaze sharpened, and his eyes narrowed. All he could utter was a single question: "How?"

In response, I produced a jug from my dimensional pocket, containing the essence of a god, and placed it on a small table before him. As Alfonso beheld the Absorber with his own eyes, he slumped into a chair, his expression a mix of disbelief, terror, and awe.

"Where on earth did you encounter a deity, and why were you even at odds with it? How on earth did you manage to survive and subdue it!" his voice almost screamed. "Why have I not heard anything about this? Your confrontation should have been visible for thousands of leagues! I do not understand!"

"I was fortunate, if indeed the situation I found myself in can be termed fortunate. And I did not face it alone. I will send you the memories later. It will teach you not to pry into ancient burial grounds."

Even now, I sometimes shiver when I recall that day and the potential consequences of defeat. I would not have emerged from that encounter unscathed had I not possessed the chain of Saint George or the crucifix.

"It would have been remarkable. To witness a battle with a deity is... it is... it is..." my brother was overcome with excitement. "It is inconceivable! And I had been certain they had abandoned our world."

«Well, those who were able to — perhaps, yes, though I cannot say for certain at this time. However, this does not apply to those who were imprisoned and languished in seals or other spiritual traps. I, unfortunately, had the misfortune of encountering one such relic.»

«But you now possess the essence of an entire deity! It would be wise to create an archimage staff without delay.»

Indeed, this is the reason for my visit.

«Oh, yes! And take this as well,» I handed him a ring, which summoned an illusionary grimoire from my personal artifact collection. «There are only four such rings. I possess one, Maria and Koneki have each received one, and now you have one as well. It grants access to my personal library of knowledge.»

The purpose of this item did not require further explanation; his guild also possesses a similar artifact.

"And is the knowledge in your private library a compilation of all the artifacts—libraries you have received or paid for services with?" When he received an affirmative nod, he remarked, "I anticipated something like this from you. Thus, my personal library remains merely a repository. And the artifact you personally bestowed upon me, I have never employed. Though it makes little sense now. For once we complete the creation of your chain and staff, I shall immediately incorporate my family's knowledge into the shared library for the select few."

Once Alfonso's initial emotions had abated, we proceeded with our discussion. Alfonso promptly took my gift to a secret storage chamber. There, he safeguarded these precious components with utmost care. Prior to this, the sorcerer had cast protective spells and rituals over the area where these items were kept. Much like how the decaying flesh of a deity can affect the magical essence of its surroundings, it can also absorb it. Consequently, it can become a source of great danger.

The annals of ancient Egyptian history record such an event. Following the assassination of the second pharaoh, a semi-divine figure, his corpse was consumed by a common insect known as a carnivorous midge. This incident almost brought an end to the nascent civilization of ancient Egypt on the African continent.

Menes, the son of the solar deity Narmer, was slain in battle near the shores of the Niger River, where he engaged in combat with a confederation of shamans and sorcerers from the indigenous tribes. Prior to the conflict, they had allied themselves against the rising power of the New Kingdom, seeking to assert their dominance over the entire Black Continent.

Egypt emerged victorious in the conflict, affirming its right to existence and dominance in Africa. However, the fate of the pharaoh, a part-time deity, was sealed. As the body of Menes lay undisturbed on the battlefield before the priests of his kingdom could reach it, the bloodsucking, flesh-devouring midges that thrived in abundance along the Niger coast, feasted on the demigod's remains.

The demigod had been slain by a curse from several malevolent higher spirits, including the aspect of disease and pestilence. These midges, having consumed a meal imbued with potent negative energy, underwent a transformation into demonic entities. They consumed everything in their path, even magical substances, and would have spread further north had it not been for the intervention of Egyptian magicians. Instead, they migrated south, nearly eradicating all life in their wake, leaving only small oases untouched. These oases were preserved by rare shamans and practitioners of magic, who possessed the strength to shield themselves from this calamity.. So to speak, in order to avoid it.

"You should have heeded my advice and forged an anti-demon chain for yourself," was Alfonso's first remark upon emerging from his reverie, as he reflected on his encounter with the divine entity. "I don't dispute that your chain is also effective, but an anti-demonic chain would not merely serve to restrain that demonic deity. It would also tap into his power and channel it towards you. Thank you for providing the ichor for it; my chain will eagerly devour it, resulting in a significant enhancement of its strength. I had previously imbued it with Archidemon blood, which I discovered in the vaults of my lineage upon assuming its leadership. However, even that pales in comparison to the essence of a divine being."

To forge such a chain, he required a substantial amount of iron infused with demonic blood. His pride would not permit him to settle for anything less than excellence. Consequently, he summoned a high-ranking demon and attempted to extract its essence to incorporate into his creation. Though it was challenging, it proved unnecessary.

The task of locating the cursed iron is neither particularly arduous nor insurmountable. However, summoning a high-ranking demon carries the risk of attracting the attention of the Church. After all, in the year 800, the clerics performed a ritual within the Vatican, which established a network of signals that extended across the globe. This network was designed to respond to portals leading to other dimensions and realms, emitting a distinctive signature associated with darkness.

My objective is to delve deeper into the intricacies of this ritual, as I possess only a general understanding of its purpose. The details and nuances remain elusive, and information regarding this ritual has yet to find its way into my artifact library. Therefore, I sought to ensure that I could conceal the traces of my summoning efforts before taking such a risky step. Alphonso's residence is adorned with a multitude of protective charms and concealment rituals.

Moreover, it has retreated into the shadows of the world, a place beyond my reach. No, this could not be done at Hogwarts; the protective enchantments of the castle would conceal any trace of the summoning ritual. But to engage in a duel with a High Demon within the confines of a school? I am not so depraved as to risk the lives of hundreds of children.

"Ha, that is a predicament!" Alfonso exclaimed with pride. "I may not possess the heart of an Archdemon, but I do have a few of their superior spirits in my possession! We are not mere paupers either."

Indeed, he had a point, particularly since everything was in place. Why not attempt it?

Creating the anti-demonic chain took me a full week of uninterrupted forging. During this time, I allowed myself no distractions. However, the forging did not take place in my usual forge.

The process took the following form: twelve kilograms of unadulterated iron, purified of slag and impurities, were placed in a specially designed ritual circle. This circle served as a focal point for the soul energy of both the creator and the future owner of the artifact, infusing the iron with its essence and initiating its transformation.

The artifact-demonologist, the source of this energy, acted as the blacksmith throughout the process. Through the mental manipulation of his own soul's power, composed of the energies emitted by all his physical shells, he imbued the iron with form. The sorcerer channeled all the anger and suffering embedded in the runic chains, absorbed by the iron during its time spent in the mines where lives were lost and tainted with negative emotions and death's energy.

Simultaneously, the sorcerer directed the malevolence inherent in the bloody iron towards future adversaries, maintaining a constant mental image of them. This task proved to be a significant challenge for the sorcerer's mental faculties.. After all, one must expose one's soul simultaneously to the negative aspects of the bloody iron, passing it through oneself and maintaining the mental projection of nineteen forty-six links in the chain.

The origin of the number nineteen forty-six is a mystery. I am unaware of who calculated the ritual for creating the chain, and I have not seen any documentation on this calculation. Based on my own numerological insights, I see the following explanation:

The concept of unity here represents leadership and supremacy. The demonologist establishes herself as the sole and absolute master of the chain, embodying the essence of power.

The number nine represents magic, wisdom, and leadership. Through this symbol, the smith establishes herself as a wise guardian of her magical abilities and powers.

Four represents the supernatural, mysticism, death, and judgment. This number concentrates all negative emotions, pain, and death — the very core of the iron — on the task of judging evil.

Six represents completion and certainty. It harmonizes the magical and mystical properties of the chain.

It is essential to maintain focus through ritual energy, transforming molten iron into unbreakable links. In one's mind, one must endure suffering, pain, and terror. By infusing these emotions into oneself, one transfers them back into the artifact.

Each link still requires the addition of several runes. The first rune renders the link impervious to all but magic of a magnitude several orders greater than that of the artefact itself. The second rune is that of vampirism, imbuing the links with spikes and sharp edges that pierce the flesh and spirit of the victim, siphoning their strength. The third rune, the rune of transfer, is responsible for transferring the stolen energy from the victim to the owner of the artefact.

The fourth rune constitutes a crucial component in the intricate process of enchanting the entirety of the artifact. It imbues it with a semblance of intelligence, akin to that of a primitive form of artificial intelligence, albeit limited to the level of a fiercely loyal and bloodthirsty canine, driven by basic instincts. In essence, it comprehends only a few basic commands such as "seize", "tear", "consume" (referring to consuming blood and vitality from the victim), "locate", and "rest".

The crafting of this chain involves a meticulous process spanning a week. Each day is dedicated to binding the chain to one of the components of its future owner. Throughout these seven days, the creator and the future master must remain within the confines of a ritual circle, akin to a cocoon, undergoing a process akin to being bathed in their own blood. This ritual is a critical aspect of the creation process, ensuring the successful integration of the ensorcelled artifact.

With my extraordinary mental prowess and fortitude, even I found myself utterly exhausted by the ordeal. I cannot overstate the magnitude of the effort it took on my part, both in terms of physical strength and emotional resilience. I required a full twenty-four hours to recover from the experience, followed by a week of mental recuperation. Only then did I begin to wield the staff of the archmage, a Sumerian artifact of legendary significance.

Reinvigorated by the desire to resume my work, I embarked on the process of fortifying my anti-demon defenses. My arsenal still contained approximately one liter of Kitsune blood and five liters of Dark God's blood, which I judiciously divided between my loyal companion. Since her birth, she had proven capable of confronting mid-level demons, albeit with some exertion. Now, however, she could face even an archdemon with relative ease.

It was time to forge the Archimage Staff. I am ready! One might even call this artifact a staff, for it can take on any form, provided it weighs at least one kilogram. This is because it requires a minimum of one kilogram of Fray's Black Obsidian, which is the sole component needed to create this artifact. It could even take the form of a sphere, a sword, or a shield, as has been recorded in ancient Sumerian history. However, such instances were rare, for the staff served as a status symbol in their culture, and every respectable sorcerer was expected to possess one, although not necessarily.

This mythical artifact possessed only a few capabilities.

First and foremost, it served as an absolute prison for even divine souls. Escape from this prison was only possible if the staff itself was destroyed by external forces. A soul incarcerated within this prison lost all will and desire, becoming a complete slave to the owner of the staff, who gained access to all of the powers and memories of these captives.

The second method involves using an artifact to breach the victim's aura. Once inside, the artifact can reach the soul and imprison it within its confines.

Thirdly, as I mentioned earlier, the user can draw upon the power generated by the imprisoned souls and utilize their knowledge for their own purposes.

Lastly, the artifact becomes an extension of its owner's identity. When created, minuscule fragments of the creator's soul are imbued within the artifact. Over time — approximately a millennium — these fragments gradually expand, eventually reaching the same size as the original soul of the owner at the time of creation. Therefore, even if the body of a powerful archmage falls, as long as the staff remains intact, their soul is not released for reincarnation. Instead, it remains trapped within the staff, which may create a temporary physical vessel for the archmage until such time as the forces within the souls imprisoned within it determine.

The fifth and final function of this artifact is the ability to cast pre-written, pre-formed spells, ready to be unleashed. The overall potency of these spells depends on the strength of the imprisoned souls within the artifact.

Creating this artifact poses a significant challenge. To overcome the resistance of obsidian to magical shapeshifting, one would ideally require the power of an Archmage. Additionally, it is crucial to meticulously recall the entire rune sequence of 16,451,2 runes in a specific order. While infusing this sequence into reality through sheer willpower, one must weave it into the very essence of the black obsidian, known as Frai. Furthermore, these intricate sequences must be maintained in one's mind for an extended period, exceeding a month, until the obsidian fully accepts them.

Prior to commencing my work with the obsidian, I meticulously prepared the hilt of my staff — the battle harness, if you will. It took the form of a two and a half metre tall spear, with a tip measuring forty centimetres, echoing the flickering flame of a candle in its appearance. The staff was also equipped with two twenty centimetre long staves perpendicular to the main shaft, serving as its foundation. The spike and stops of my weapon were crafted from consecrated silver procured from the church in Vatican City.

The foundation of this creation was constructed from a material that was the product of necromantic incantations, a byproduct of the school of magic associated with working with deceased bone. Before leaving Hogwarts, I periodically extracted my own fangs, and upon their regrowth, I repeated this process, thanks to the consumption of liters of ossuary concoction brewed using Salazar's refined recipe, thereby amassing a substantial supply.

With the aid of necromancy, I fused these fangs with some of the bone fragments from the deity I had vanquished, resulting in a material that surpasses anything I have ever encountered in strength. It is only adamantium that I can envision as being capable of damaging this substance.

My ability to disassemble the deity's physical form was contingent upon his already being deceased. Had he possessed a soul, it would have been impossible for me to dismantle his skeletal structure. Even my Georgi chain, an artifact of divine caliber, could barely penetrate his skin. Utilizing the heel of my staff, I fashioned the horn of the Dark God, which ordinarily would have been blunt. However, upon receiving a signal from me, it assumes its original form.

Finally, prior to commencing the process of crafting the Archimage Staff, I subjected all external components of the shell of my forthcoming magnum opus to a concoction comprising my blood and venom. This step was essential as part of a ritual designed to imbue the material with my essence within this nefarious concoction.

The process of infusing the obsidian with the necessary enchantments and harmoniously integrating it with the shell into a unified whole was both arduous and challenging. I cannot delve into the intricacies of this process, but suffice it to say that following this ritual, I resembled a lifeless automaton for a period of one and a half months. The fact that Alfonso, my twin, came to my aid proved invaluable. He provided me with the potions I required and administered rituals and sealings that I could not have performed in my weakened state. Had it not been for his assistance, my recovery would not have been confined to one and a half months but rather extended to a full year.

I am now convinced that there is much that we do not understand about this ritual. What we are lacking to render it harmless and painless to our health is a crucial detail. It is difficult to believe that every archimage, upon creating their staff, became incapable of protecting themselves for an entire year. I truly exhausted myself, pushing beyond the limits of my imagination. Only my resolve and fortitude, honed during my time as a captive at Hogwarts, prevented me from succumbing to exhaustion on the thirtieth day of the ritual, which was still a full week from completion.

However, as I admired my newfound beauty, which I had imbued with the essence of the dark god, I realized that my suffering had not been in vain. The sacrifice had been worth it.