For a long moment, Alex just stared at the three golden cards shimmering before him.
Should he be thrilled... or terrified?
One of them was Severus Snape that, he could accept. A fine pull. But the other two? Both were the same man.
Tom Marvolo Riddle.
Alias: Lord Voldemort.
Title: The Second Dark Lord.
Dark Arts Talent: 8
Dark Defense Talent: 6
...
Known Spells: The Three Unforgivable Curses and a vast repertoire of forbidden magic.
Special Skill: Horcrux Creation.
Alex's jaw slackened.
"What the hell—?!"
So the featured limited-time card was supposed to be Snape, and he pulled Voldemort twice?
His dark magic talent was already maxed out — what was he supposed to do, start a cult?
Then his eyes drifted to one detail.
"Oh. Dark Defense Talent, level six…"
He paused, and then grinned.
Alright, maybe this wasn't so bad.
The system's fusion rules were clear: a talent could only be raised one tier above the highest level of the card being fused. Meaning, by merging Voldemort's card, his Dark Defense could now reach level seven — beyond the norm for any living wizard.
Two Voldemorts meant double the fusion potential.
Perfect.
Three golden cards, all fully utilized.
He could practically feel the smugness radiating from his own reflection.
Next came the purples — he'd drawn eighteen in total. Not a bad haul.
But as he examined them, his smile began to twitch.
And then… his face twisted completely.
There were knowledge cards — one for Potions, one for Charms, one for Transfiguration — and then…
Cruciatus ×5. Avada Kedavra ×5. Fiendfyre ×5.
Alex: "..."
"System, explain yourself. Why is everything bloody black magic?"
Eighteen purples. Fifteen were Dark Arts. Two gold Voldemorts. And one Snape.
He groaned. "Did I accidentally roll on the 'Evil Overlord Starter Pack' banner or something?"
There was nothing for it. He took a deep breath and fused them all.
The change hit him immediately.
Power surged through his veins like molten lightning. His mind flooded with new spells, thousands of intricate runic structures forming and dissolving in the span of seconds. His heart thudded, each beat pulsing with raw magic.
Five minutes later, he finally opened his eyes.
A faint silver glow flickered around his fingertips.
Raising his hand, Alex spread his palm — and a pale silver flame bloomed in the air.
It shimmered like liquid starlight, soft yet lethal.
With a thought, the fire shifted shape — a hawk, a lion, a serpent — and finally, a phoenix, wings unfurling in radiant glory.
When he closed his hand, the fire vanished without leaving a single mark.
He stared at his palm and chuckled softly.
"I remember Malfoy's goons using red Fiendfyre," he mused. "And Grindelwald's was blue. So, silver's mine, huh?"
He smirked. "I'll take it. Silver looks damn good."
His Fiendfyre wasn't quite Grindelwald-tier yet, but he wasn't far off. A few more draws, and he might even match him.
As for Crabbe and Goyle, those two idiots had once burned themselves to death with Fiendfyre. Their casting skill probably didn't even hit level one.
Checking through the rest of his abilities, Alex found that every branch of his magic had grown stronger. His overall mana capacity had expanded as well — the difference was palpable.
"System," he murmured. "Show me my stats."
A translucent blue interface flickered to life before his eyes.
[Character Status Panel]
Name: Alex Gaunt
Age: 11
Birthday: October 31
Affiliation: Hogwarts, First Year
Bloodline: Spirit Mage (Awakening — progression tied to power growth)
Mana Scale: 19.4
Magical Items: Protective Amulet, Felix Felicis ×1, Instant Mana Recovery Potion ×3
Talents:
Charms: 6 (Exceptional Genius)
Dark Defense: 7 (Prodigy)
Transfiguration: 4 (Above Average)
Potions: 6 (Brilliant)
Dark Arts: 9 (Heir of the Dark King)
Spells (Highest Mastery):
Fiendfyre
Avada Kedavra
Cruciatus Curse
Gold: 0
Alex stared at the display, speechless.
Dark Arts: 9.
Top three spells? All Unforgivables.
Wonderful. He was now Hogwarts' most promising candidate for Dark Lord: Generation Three.
He groaned and buried his face in his hands.
It wasn't like he'd asked for this. He'd drawn plenty of ordinary spells before — levitation, shielding, elemental magic — but the purple-tier cards just added so much more power.
And now, with fifteen of them infused at once, his Dark Arts had skyrocketed to a level that rivaled even Voldemort himself.
Realistically speaking, his power tier was clear. Based on the system's scaling, magical society broke down into:
Ordinary Adults
Elite Wizards
Aurors
Senior Aurors
Professors
Pseudo-Legendary (Dumbledore-tier)
Pseudo-Legendary because, as Alex noted, even Dumbledore's core talents didn't hit level 9.
Real Legends, he decided, would begin where his own journey ended — above 9.
Currently, his mana reserves were four to five times higher than a typical adult wizard. Combined with the range of spells he now commanded, he could easily hold his own against an Auror — maybe even a Senior Auror.
If he unleashed his Dark Arts, even someone like Snape would have to take him seriously.
Not bad for a first-year.
Not bad at all.
He exhaled slowly, nodding to himself.
"At this rate, when Voldemort returns, I'll at least be able to stand my ground," he murmured. "Maybe even blast him off his own snake throne."
A grin tugged at his lips.
"Who knows? If I'm lucky with a few more draws… maybe I'll be the one giving the orders next time."
He paused.
Then froze.
"Wait, wait, wait—no, no, no. Stop that. That's the Dark Magic talking."
He slapped his cheeks. "Bad thoughts. Go away. I am not the third Dark Lord."
Still, as he sat there, silver embers faintly crackling at his fingertips, a part of him couldn't help but imagine it — a future where he led the magical world, stronger, smarter, and far more dangerous than any who came before.
He shook his head violently.
No. Absolutely not.
This was definitely the system's fault. Too many cursed draws — it was corrupting his sense of humor.
Just as he started to calm down, that familiar, mechanical voice chimed softly in his mind:
[System Notification: New Mission Detected…]
And Alex's stomach dropped.
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