*Thump. Thump.*
A faint, rhythmic pulse began to throb from within the Shenyue Flower seed, like a nascent heartbeat. At the same time, its once-fading vitality began a slow, steady recovery.
Seeing this, Char's eyes widened in astonishment. He had actually guessed correctly. The flower did not use magic, appearance, or aura to identify a god. It recognized something else entirely: the unheard-of concept of authority. Because he had been branded with a sliver of the God-King's authority after absorbing the will of the lightning, the Shenyue Flower genuinely perceived him as a god—the King of Gods, no less.
This unique plant, when faced with a being it did not recognize as divine, would wither and die no matter how carefully it was tended. But in the presence of a being it acknowledged as a god, even a mere glance was enough to make it flourish with incredible vigor. And now, it had just received a direct command from Char, the "God-King." Even after the countless ages that had passed since the era of Olympus, the Shenyue Flower was compelled to do everything in its power to please its king.
A look of pure joy spread across Char's face. "At this rate," he murmured, "it won't take long for this seed to take root, sprout, and even bloom."
He offered the seed a few more words of encouragement, which seemed to excite it even further. *Praise from the God-King! What an honor!*
But in the next moment, Char reached his limit. The immense pressure of his spirit approaching the Eye of Spirit and brushing against the God-King's authority became too much to bear. A wave of dizziness washed over him, and he nearly collapsed. A searing pain erupted in his head, feeling as if it were about to split open. He hurriedly withdrew his consciousness, pulling it away from the lightning-shaped scar that represented his divine authority.
The instant he did, the Shenyue Flower seed, which had been pulsating with vibrant energy, seemed to become utterly confused. *Where is the God-King? Why can I no longer feel his supreme authority? My King—is he gone?!*
Instantly, the seed's growth halted. Char could feel a trace of death beginning to brew within it. The smile on his face froze.
Gritting his teeth, Char squeezed the last dregs of strength from his spirit and forced himself to once again approach the authority within his soul. He projected his will toward the seed. "As the God-King, I must suppress enemies across the world. I cannot remain here forever. I hope that when I next return, you will have bloomed the most gorgeous flowers to welcome my triumphant victory."
The deathly aura permeating the seed vanished, replaced by an unprecedented, powerful pulsation. An oracle! This was an oracle from the God-King himself, commanding it to welcome his triumphant return! This was the highest honor imaginable. The Shenyue Flower seed was so deeply moved it seemed to want to force itself to bloom right then and there, despite its weak state.
Even after Char's vision went dark and he could no longer channel even a sliver of the God-King's authority, the seed's vitality only slowed its growth. It no longer seemed on the verge of dying.
Char finally let out a breath of relief. Then, stars exploded behind his eyes. The pain in his head intensified until it felt like every nerve was being pierced by a red-hot steel needle. The agony was so intense he couldn't even scream. He could only curl up on the ground, waiting for his spirit to recover and the pain to recede.
Two or three hours later, Char, looking pale and drained, struggled to his feet. The memory of the pain left a lingering fear. That was a close call. If he had held on for even a few more seconds, the immense pressure might have permanently damaged his spirit. Spiritual matters were something that not even legendary life-forms could easily repair.
Fortunately, he was accustomed to enduring intense pain. Combined with his deep understanding of Occlumency and his advanced control over his mental power, he had managed to avoid any permanent sequelae. But it was a stark wake-up call.
"My physical body is incredibly powerful now," he reflected. "As long as my brain and heart aren't destroyed, I can regenerate from almost anything. But my spirit, while far stronger than an ordinary person's, is still too weak in comparison. Many of the mythical things I'm encountering require immense spiritual strength. I need to prioritize improving it. The Chalati grass should be close to maturity."
He took out the Portkey. In a dizzying spin, he was transported from Sprout Manor to Sprout Island. The recent storm had passed, but its effects were still visible. Though the island was protected by magic, that offered little defense against the raw power of nature. Potholes filled with stagnant water dotted the landscape.
Fortunately, the underwater volcano beneath the island continuously radiated heat, causing the water in the soil to evaporate quickly. The trolls were even using their massive hands to scoop water away from the fields, preventing the soil from becoming too saturated and affecting the crops. These were the lands their king had given them to cultivate, their only source of sustenance. After their long, wandering life in the Forbidden Forest, even the dim-witted trolls understood how precious this new life was.
When they saw Char arrive, their faces filled with adoration and fanaticism. "Groonk! Groonk!" they chanted.
Char had grown accustomed to their form of address. He waved to them as he walked toward the field where the Chalati grass was planted. The constant evaporation of water under the volcanic heat filled the air with steam, turning the fields into a massive, natural sauna. This hot, humid environment was exactly what Chalati grass loved.
As Char's gaze swept over the field, he saw that the quality of the grass hadn't suffered from the storm. In fact, it was thriving even better than he had expected. Each reward orb was full and vibrant, and the bronze luster of the reward information seemed to have deepened slightly.
A pleased look appeared on his face. "It will probably be mature in two or three days. This is better than I hoped. It might provide me with an even greater mental enhancement. Given that most Chalati grass plantations likely had their production reduced by the storm, this batch should sell for a much higher price than usual."
Of course, Char wasn't satisfied with just a little profit. Such high-quality Chalati grass, once purified, would have a more exquisite flavor. The pure-blood nobles, who were willing to spend fortunes for the slightest improvement in taste, would surely offer a premium price. This would provide him with a convenient source of funds for any resources he might need later, without having to constantly rely on favors from the Malfoy family.
Sprout Island was currently just large enough to support the trolls who had migrated from the Forbidden Forest. But Char had bigger plans. He wanted to elevate his Demeter ritual magic to the epic level before the Shenyue Flowers matured. If he could do that, he might be able to use the rewards from the Shenyue Flower to leap directly from the epic to the legendary level. This would not only save him a tremendous amount of time but also grant him herbology skills comparable to a master two or three years ahead of schedule. The impact on his future cultivation would be immeasurable.
To enhance the Demeter ritual, he needed a vast amount of faith. The power provided by the current population of trolls was far too little. He needed to migrate more clans. Char also knew from experience that the stronger an individual was, the more potent their reverence and the greater the power of faith they generated. Dumbledore and the other professors' belief in him during the Forbidden Forest trial had been enough to skyrocket his Demeter magic to the diamond level.
If the trolls' strength could be increased, the faith they generated would surge. According to Quirrell's research, feeding them a steady diet of Goldfish Spider Plants, ideally prepared as a potion, could reawaken inherited memories in their bloodline and trigger a regression, enhancing their power. Even if most couldn't reach the level of the troll priest Sirius, their physical strength would be greatly enhanced, and they might even unlock latent magical abilities. This would not only provide him with more faith but also create a formidable army. In the final battle, an army of trolls under his command could sweep across the entire Hogwarts battlefield.
Anticipation gleamed in his eyes. But all of this depended on the Chalati grass harvest. "There are still two or three days," he thought. "I can't just sit and wait."
Feeling the heat radiating from the ground, Char's eyes lit up as he remembered his aunt's birthday gift: the reactivated Cinder-fern spore. Its ideal environment was near a volcano. The underground cave on Sprout Island, where he had first found its parent plant, was the perfect place to plant it.
He took out the Cinder-fern spore. In the light, it sparkled with a jewel-like luster, looking more like a rare gem than a plant. It was no wonder that every Cinder-fern discovered in history had been snatched up by pure-blood nobles. The thing was magnificent.
After admiring it for a moment, Char's attention shifted to the rewards it could provide. A platinum-level flame enhancement, a gold-level charm enhancement, and a black iron-level comprehension of Gublai Immortal Fire. These were all immensely helpful. The last one, in particular, made his eyes burn with anticipation.
Gublai Immortal Fire was not an ancient magic, but very few wizards in the entire magical world could master it. Its most famous user was Dumbledore. It was rumored that Dumbledore's most astonishing spell, known as the Fire God's Path, was closely related to it. This alone was enough to make Char's heart race. This was Dumbledore's signature magic. So what if it wasn't ancient magic? Char didn't believe for a second that a wizard of Dumbledore's caliber was incapable of mastering ancient magic. He likely chose not to because, in his hands, the Fire God's Path was as powerful as any ancient magic—or even stronger. And with the help of the Cinder-fern, Char might have a chance to master it himself.
Even after seeing countless wondrous magics, the thought of wielding one of the most shocking spells from the world he once knew sent a thrill through him.
Taking a deep breath to calm his racing heart, Char carried the spore to the underground cave where he had found its parent. He moved through the cave, carefully examining the soil. The Cinder-fern was a beautiful but demanding plant. It not only required a hot environment but also needed to absorb essential nutrients derived from gemstones. The more gem components it absorbed, the more crystal-clear and high-quality it would become. An insufficient supply would cause it to become dull, grow slowly, or even die. This was especially crucial during the initial stages of spore growth.
He carefully rubbed the soil between his fingers, trying to find a spot with the highest concentration of gemstone elements. To his surprise, after searching the entire cave, he found that the most suitable place was the exact spot where the original Cinder-fern had taken root. The gem content here was many times richer than anywhere else.
A moment of thought brought realization. "It must be because of the mother plant. It gathered a high concentration of gemstone components as it grew, and after it lost its vitality, those elements returned to the earth." It was a natural cycle of renewal, the old nourishing the new.
With his considerable herbology skills, Char planted the spore. It was a delicate process, but he handled it with expertise. The planted spore immediately began to absorb nutrients, and the faint reward orb above it slowly began to glow and expand.
Char nodded slightly. A Cinder-fern typically took about five years to absorb enough gem components to reach maturity. This spore, nourished by the remnants of its parent plant, would likely take only two years, saving him nearly half the time. It was still a bit slow for his liking, but there was little he could do. The only way to speed it up further would be to artificially grind various gems into powder and mix them into the soil. This could potentially improve the plant's quality and cut the growth time by another year.
But this process would require destroying hundreds of gems. Even though gems weren't as valuable in the wizarding world as in the Muggle world, they were far from common and were required in many magical fields. Spending hundreds of gems just to save a year of growth for an ornamental plant was a cost-ineffective luxury that even ancient pure-blood families wouldn't consider. Their money didn't just appear out of thin air, and none of them had an alchemist on retainer. And even if they did, a true alchemist would never waste their time on such a task.
Char shook his head. If even the wealthiest pure-blood families lacked such resources, it seemed he would have to wait patiently for two years.
As he turned to leave the cave, his gaze swept over the dwelling of the troll priest, Sirius. He saw a huge workbench piled with various minerals collected from the island and the surrounding sea. Intricate alchemy array patterns were carved into its surface. Some of the ores showed signs of refinement, gleaming with traces of silver and gold. Others held colorful, gem-like crystals.
Char's steps suddenly halted. An idea exploded in his mind.
"Wait a minute," he thought, his eyes wide. "Grinding gemstones into powder is a luxury even pure-blood families can't afford. It would require the resources and skills of a true alchemist. The Malfoys couldn't manage it… but I can!"