— — — — — —
[Extracting Talent…]
[Congratulations, Host has obtained the talent: Only One Truth.]
[Only One Truth: Analyze any directly observable magical effect, reconstruct its fundamental principles, and see straight to the essence. Effectiveness depends on the user's magical foundation. At peak mastery, it can even copy an opponent's magic for one's own use.]
Another research-type talent?
Tom muttered to himself, but he didn't stop to study it right away. There were more important things to deal with first.
"Jeanne, you did very well."
He gave her another affectionate head pat. Jeanne immediately leaned in, eyes half-closed, her ponytail swaying back and forth like a well-behaved kitten.
"The Lord never favors someone for talent alone," Tom said gently, deliberately activating the faith talent Jeanne had given him, channeling a hint of so-called holy power straight at her. "But He does look kindly on those who are diligent and devout."
The girl from Orléans looked at him with even more awe and adoration. If the approval cap weren't one hundred, her value would have skyrocketed on the spot.
This was her Lord.
Ravenclaw and Ariana fell silent as they watched, both feeling an odd sense of absurdity.
Tom was really playing the role of a holy imposter now. And Jeanne… honestly, whatever Tom said, she believed. Completely hopeless.
After just a few lines of encouragement, Jeanne was fired up again, throwing herself back into studying. She hugged the "Riddle Bible," painstakingly reading through the general knowledge books Ariana had picked out for her, word by word.
"Tom…" Ariana clung to his arm, worry written all over her face. "I feel like something's wrong with Jeanne like this. Once she learns more and more, she'll eventually realize you're not… some kind of divine chosen one. Won't she resent you then?"
She wanted to say love turning into hate, but this didn't quite feel like love. It was faith. She had read that the collapse of faith could be even worse.
Tom just smiled and shook his head. "She won't. No matter how much she learns, Jeanne's worldview won't change that much. Besides, why can't this so-called Lord be me?"
Ariana froze.
Ravenclaw, on the other hand, broke into a bright smile.
That line was right up her alley. There were no gods in this world. Wizards were the gods. If you didn't even dare to think that way, if your mind stayed shackled by conventional thinking, then no matter how much talent you had for magic, you were doomed to mediocrity, never breaking past your limits.
But in the very next second, Ravenclaw's smile vanished.
While Tom was talking with Ariana, he slipped Ravenclaw a quick wink. She understood instantly, let out a soft snort, and walked out of the room.
---
Late at night
After fulfilling the terms of the wager, Tom was kicked out of Ravenclaw's garden villa feeling refreshed and invigorated.
He realized that Ravenclaw really did have the potential to be a masochist.
Before, he had thought the diadem alone would push her approval past fifty, but it had stubbornly stuck at 49%. Today, though, he'd only beaten her once, enjoyed himself a bit, and somehow hit the target anyway.
Tom glanced at the approval progress bar.
[Ravenclaw: 58]
Eight minutes of touching, eight points gained.
If he'd dragged it out a little longer, wouldn't he have maxed it out on the spot?
He only let himself fantasize for a second. Approval got harder to gain the higher it went, for one thing. And more importantly, he wasn't even sure his hands would survive if he kept going.
"Do I really need to completely defeat her to get full approval?" he muttered.
The thought gave the boy a sudden surge of motivation to become stronger.
...
At the dueling arena, Tom began testing the talent he'd just obtained: Only One Truth.
"Orchideous."
He spoke softly, and a cluster of purple flowers opened in his palm, their fragrance spilling into the air. Before, using his magical sight, he could already see the process of magic transforming into a spell's effect. But now, with Only One Truth layered on top, he could see far more.
"Exchange?"
A sudden realization struck him. The essence of spellcasting was exchange. Or put another way, sacrifice.
You offered up magic infused with emotion and intent, sacrificed it to the world, and in return achieved the outcome you desired.
Magic was the offering, but also the medium of communication. It was the currency the world itself accepted.
The insight overturned some of his previous understanding and deepened others. Tom couldn't wait to test it further. He cast spell after spell, even entering his turbo mode.
...
By the next day, he appeared in the Great Hall looking energetic and refreshed. He glanced at Daphne, who was grinning like an idiot, then turned to Astoria, who looked a little listless thanks to the changing weather. He handed the silver-haired girl a warming potion and decided Hermione would be the perfect sparring partner for further testing.
Miss Know-It-All never turned down anything related to learning. So after their Care of Magical Creatures class that afternoon, the two of them headed into the Forbidden Forest.
"Hermione, stay calm," Tom said as he cleared an open space and set up several targets. "You can use any spell you know. I only have one request. Cast as slowly as possible. Even if you can do it nonverbally, try to perform the most standard, complete casting process."
Hermione didn't know what Tom was researching, but she nodded seriously anyway. After thinking for a moment, she started with the simplest Levitation Charm.
As the girl waved her wand, shimmering light filled Tom's eyes. Runes and arcs of energy flashed past. The world in his vision split into pure black and white, while the stray magic in the air became the only shade of gray.
Tom didn't call a halt, so Hermione kept going. Thankfully, she'd taken plenty of potions before, and her magical reserves far exceeded those of her peers.
"That's enough, Hermione. You did great."
Coming out of that strange state, Tom quickly supported the visibly exhausted Hermione, pulling the young witch into his arms.
She shook her head lightly. "I'm fine. I'll recover after a short rest."
"Alright. Sleep for a bit. I'll stay with you."
He didn't give her a Revitalizing Potion, letting her recover the old-fashioned way. It was better for her body.
Lying in his arms, Hermione soon fell asleep. Tom, meanwhile, replayed his insights from earlier.
As expected, different wizards behaved very differently during the process of "exchange."
For the same spell, Hermione had to pay a higher price to achieve the same effect. That price was magic and the intensity of emotion. In the exchange, she was at a clear disadvantage.
As for himself, sometimes, after the exchange was complete, he could even add extra chips and alter the outcome at will.
That was the trait of an SS Wizard.
Then what about SSS legends?
Could they directly plunder instead?
Tom's thoughts grew clearer and clearer. He looked up at the blood-red sunset and suddenly felt an urge to reach out.
~~~
Life settled into a calm rhythm.
With a new research direction in hand, Tom's days became structured. Every evening, he set aside some time to use Only One Truth to dissect the nature of magic.
Most of his energy, however, went into preparing the Wizarding Guild.
It was a massive undertaking. Not only did he need to set up branches across the country, he also had to prepare a temporary headquarters in Diagon Alley.
Temporary, yes.
He didn't think a cramped place like Diagon Alley could ever hold the massive organization that would one day truly control the magical world. It was bound to be replaced eventually, so he didn't put too much heart into it. As long as it looked decent on the surface, that was enough.
And so...
In the blink of an eye, Valentine's Day arrived. It happened to fall on a weekend, and Dumbledore, in a rare display of generosity, added an extra Hogsmeade visit. Countless young witches and wizards were moved to tears with gratitude.
Of course, some people were grinding their teeth in rage.
For example, the perpetually single. And also… Tom.
Yes Tom. He hated Valentine's Day more than anything. There was no way he could split himself up to accompany every girl.
So he packed his schedule to the brim. In the morning, he went into the Forbidden Forest with the Greengrass sisters to pick flowers, weaving them into floral crowns. And he would still need to take them out later.
After lunch, he had a long talk with Penelope about business plans and assigned her even more responsibilities.
Purely giving and protecting someone wasn't the only way to earn deep feelings. Sometimes, asking things of them and letting them feel needed, letting them know they had value, worked even better.
Penelope was the textbook example of a giver. She wanted to do more to help Tom, not just be on the receiving end of his generosity.
That was why Tom had been steadily developing her business knowledge and experience. He'd already handed full control of the payment system to Penelope, letting her negotiate directly with the goblins.
Once she graduated in a year, Elaina Workshop and his future commercial empire would all become stages for her to shine, as long as she had the ability.
By noon, the little maid Ginny prepared a lunch that… at least looked edible. Since it was a holiday, Tom let her off easy. He listened to her complaints and dorm gossip, then gave her backside a firm smack and strode off, taking Astoria and Daphne with him to Hogsmeade along with the other students.
The Three Broomsticks Inn was guaranteed to be packed. Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop didn't have any three-person tables. So Tom chose the Hog's Head instead, ordering fruit wine so the two sisters could have a small taste. He'd even spoken to Aberforth in advance to bring out a few low-alcohol bottles.
"BASTARD..."
"Albus that bastard, son of a bitch! He's forgotten everything! He doesn't deserve the name Dumbledore!"
Tom's arrival finally gave Aberforth an outlet. He launched into a nonstop tirade, cursing his brother with passion.
After the initial shock, Daphne and Astoria's cheeks flushed red. They were embarrassed by Aberforth's filthy language, yet oddly thrilled.
Cursing Albus Dumbledore so openly? There weren't many people in the world who dared do that.
They almost wanted to write it all down and send it to the Headmaster.
.
.
.