Erwin quickly tucked the straw doll into his robe.
This was a real gem—a true lifesaver, just as the System described.
[Sacrificial Effigy: Ever feel like the wizarding world's duels are a drag? Bored of fools on brooms chasing the Golden Snitch? Step into the Magical Battle Arena! More thrilling than Quidditch, more exhilarating than any wizarding game. Don your helmet and conquer the Dueling Canyon!]
Erwin blinked in surprise.
What in Merlin's name?
A Magical Battle Arena?
He wasted no time summoning it.
With a thud, a large box materialized on the floor, accompanied by a neatly folded instruction manual.
Erwin flipped it open and scanned the contents. His eyes widened in admiration.
Who came up with this? It was brilliant.
The design wasn't overly complex, yet it drew on projection tech that even his old world's Muggles hadn't perfected: holographic simulations.
Strap on the helmet, and you'd plunge into the canyon. The gameplay echoed popular Muggle mobile games, minus the hero picks. Wizards dueled with their own spells—no health bars, no Spell Energy gauges. It all hinged on raw skill.
Die in the match, and you'd feel a sharp, visceral pain, but nothing fatal. Perfect for honing combat prowess, far better than tangling with Voldemort.
Best of all, it was scalable. The box included blueprints for mass production. With a team of enchanters, Erwin could replicate the holographic setup and churn out units by the dozen.
This was a goldmine of opportunity.
The System had even tossed in skin customizations—cosmetic tweaks to your avatar that boosted attack power by ten points. Wizards would eat it up.
Erwin could practically hear the Galleons clinking. Forget the Enchanted Communicator; this would eclipse Quidditch overnight. Chasing a Snitch was absurd anyway—plenty of time for two rounds of strengthening potion in that mess.
The catch? It required recharging through Erwin's network. He was already plotting wizarding mobile payments to pair with it, slotting perfectly into his broader schemes.
The System was a marvel; if it had a form, he'd embrace it in gratitude.
A game-changer.
For now, though, Erwin stowed the box. Timing was everything.
His eyes turned to the remaining four cards hovering in the air. He claimed them all at once.
[Weapon Forging Kit: 500/500 Forging Attempts! Craft enchanted wands with custom spells. Option: Infuse Expelliarmus to shatter foes' defenses!]
[Armour Forging Kit: 500/500 Forging Attempts! Craft enchanted robes; available enchantment: Armour Charm!]
[Death's Token: Summon Death for a bargain. Offer what He craves, and claim His boon. Beware—gods demand steep prices for their gifts. Consumable, 1/1 use!]
[Unknown Fragment: Shard of a potent artifact, one-tenth complete. Collect all to unlock a golden relic of unknown power!]
Erwin studied the rewards, his brow creasing.
His focus lingered on the last two.
An unknown fragment? Too cryptic for comfort. In tales he'd read, these often led to legendary items.
He lifted the shard; it was cold as ice against his palm, with no detectable magic. Its only allure was a faint, iridescent shimmer.
Curious, Erwin set it down and stomped on it hard.
The shard didn't budge. His foot throbbed instead.
Undeterred, he drew his wand.
"Reducto!"
The spell slammed into the fragment. A brilliant beam erupted, blasting toward him.
Erwin reacted instantly, casting Protego with a flick. The light hit his shield squarely, hurling him backward. The barrier shattered on impact.
Heart pounding, he stared at the unscratched shard.
That was close. Without his reflexes, he'd be in the Hospital Wing—or worse.
If it was that resilient...
Erwin pressed the fragment to his chest. It molded perfectly, like a custom breastplate.
Promising.
He coaxed threads from his Ever-Changing Suit, weaving them around the shard to secure it.
It added weight, but no other effects surfaced. A mystery, but for now, it'd serve as armor.
Next, the Death's Token: a pendant shaped like a scythe. Touching it sent a bone-deep chill racing through him.
The metal quivered, and a spectral figure rose—a hooded wraith clutching a scythe, cloaked in ragged shadows. Death Himself.
The air turned frigid, the room's warmth leaching away. Shivers gripped the young witches and wizards nearby, even the professors huddling against an unnatural dread.
Erwin, facing the entity directly, felt it pierce his core. His body trembled uncontrollably—not mere cold, but a soul-deep terror that rooted him in place. He couldn't meet those empty voids where eyes should be. An overwhelming urge to kneel surged within him, a mortal's instinct before the divine.
This was the chasm between god and man, raw and unyielding.
...
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Power Stones:[109]/300
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— MrGrim