Chapter 367: The Mind Avatar
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Ravenclaw’s smile blood warm enough to lt ice. She was surprised, but mostly proud.
Tom had taken her path and carved out his own side trail from it. They hadn’t split in their research yet, but their approaches were clearly starting to diverge.
"Any discomfort?" Ravenclaw asked gently. She wasn’t just concerned about Tom; she cared about how the spell itself perford.
"Honestly? None."
Tom shook his head. "It’s just a spell. Once it’s cast, it runs its course. The later actions aren’t controlled by . Otherwise why bother pouring so much into developing it?"
"That’s true."
This ti the voice ca from behind him.
The second Tom stepped forward.
"Ravenclaw, don’t mistake
for him," the duplicate said. "I’m only a stalled echo created by thought and mory pinned with magic. A materialized fragnt. When my magic runs out and my task is complete, everything I’ve gained will flow back to him."
Ravenclaw examined him carefully. It wasn’t hard to tell the two Toms apart. The second one had a blurred face and a weightless look, though the aura, posture, and temperant were unmistakably Tom’s.
This was the result of Tom’s recent obsessive research. He had burned through nearly ten thousand credits to create this spell: the Mind Avatar.
Active thoughts and mories were fused with a portion of magic, then separated and shaped into an entity that wasn’t quite real but wasn’t an illusion either. It could fight, conduct research, assist in experints.
And when the avatar dissipated, its last trickle of magic carried the mory-seed back to the original, where everything it experienced would be absorbed and integrated. It was a bit like the shadow clone from Naruto.
But Shadow clones dragged exhaustion back to the user, and the Mind Avatar didn’t. Only the ntal load of sorting mories remained, and that could be handled easily in the study space.
Combat was actually the least important feature. Tom had poured so much into developing the avatar for one reason: sharpening the axe didn’t delay chopping wood. He didn’t want daily tasks dragging him down when he could focus on his magical developnt.
Alchemy, potions, countless experints — all of that he could offload to the avatar.
With the talent he got from Ravenclaw, even an avatar without access to Turbo Mode or more advanced modes was highly efficient. Whenever it hit a roadblock, the mories would return and Tom would solve the issue personally.
"So? Wanna learn it?" Tom flicked his wrist, and the avatar collapsed into a streak of light that returned to his body. "With this spell your reading speed and thinking efficiency will shoot up."
Ravenclaw shot him a dazzling sideways glance.
He really couldn’t stand losing. Still trying to play teacher.
"Learn? Why wouldn’t I?" she said, suddenly slipping into a wounded tone. "Professor Riddle, please take care of . I’m a slow student. Don’t get annoyed with ."
Tom sucked in a sharp breath. The space even cooperated by dropping the temperature.
She was getting way too good at this.
This woman’s mind was impossible to predict. Sotis she was cold enough to treat people like lab tools, diving into research with even more madness than Tom himself. Sotis she was a gentle, intellectual older sister — Ariana had even called her "mom" more than once.
And now she could act like a shy schoolgirl? Calling herself a slow student?
If she was slow, then what exactly were the current Hogwarts kids? Amoebas?
If winning over Ravenclaw ant getting all her different moods along with her... wasn’t that basically a whole roster of girlfriends in one?
"Co on, co on. I’ll educate you properly," Tom said, tugging her back toward the villa.
Learning this spell wasn’t actually difficult for Ravenclaw. The basic theory was hers in the first place: dividing off unused ntal power temporarily without harming the main consciousness.
How many avatars one could create depended on how finely that ntal energy could be split, and how much shock the brain could handle when mories returned.
Ravenclaw mastered it almost instantly. A few hours later, a second Ravenclaw appeared before Tom—just as graceful, just as captivating.
Her face was blurred the sa way his avatar had been, which gave her a dreamy, hazy allure.
"If I’d had this spell back then, things would’ve been much easier." Ravenclaw nodded with satisfaction. "How many avatars can you make right now?"
"Only three," Tom said. "Magic allocation is important. It has to match the ntal load exactly or the whole thing destabilizes. When I get more practiced, I might be able to add a few more."
"That’s already impressive. Better than ." She could only form two avatars. Her soul wasn’t as strong as Tom’s; splitting too much could injure her, and injuries to the soul could take months or years to repair.
Tom, anwhile, had the unicorn "holy spirit" gift. His soul had already evolved once. What was a devastating injury for others was sothing he could sleep off in two days.
...
Leaving the space, Tom felt completely at ease. He tossed all three Mind Avatars into his pocket world and let them handle things on their own.
Bloodline-fusion research, iterative spellwork, and physical embodint studies—those were the tasks he assigned them. Three urgent problems he needed solved.
After that ca the diadem and the Horcrux situation, though he wasn’t in a rush. Voldemort wasn’t about to storm Hogwarts for a smash-and-grab. Not after Grindelwald humiliated him so thoroughly. Who knew which sewer he was sulking in now.
With everything sorted out, Tom slept soundly.
---
A week later...
Hogwarts students had all finished signing up for the selection rounds. Across all years, more than 150 people had registered—almost twenty per year.
But each year could only send one duelist to the official tournant, so Lupin was currently drowning in work organizing the preliminaries. As Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, it naturally fell on him.
Tom’s side was simple. Only Ginny and Hermione signed up. Penelope had wanted to try, but Tom stopped her. She wasn’t strong enough; going would just be pointless.
And while Hogwarts was buzzing with excitent, no one noticed Dumbledore slipping out of the school again and again.
The wizarding world looked calm on the surface. Ever since Christmas, there had been no clashes with the Acolytes. The situation was stabilizing.
But beneath that calm, tensions churned. Most governnts didn’t want Grindelwald roaming free. He was a live grenade rolling around the wizarding world, a sword hanging over the heads of politicians.
What was the point of scheming and plotting if soone like him could just kick down the door and kill you?
...
"Oh?"
In Berlin, Grindelwald held a parchnt letter from the Bulgarian Minister of Magic. The wording was humble, almost groveling.
It was a letter of allegiance.
Once, Bulgaria had been one of Berlin’s staunchest allies, stronger even than Italy. After the war, they’d been punished heavily.
But Grindelwald read the letter with skepticism.
A trap, maybe?
And if it was... even better.
A slow smile curved across his face. He glanced at Vinda, who stood quietly at his side.
"Make the arrangents. In a week, we’ll take over the Bulgarian Ministry of Magic."
.
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