Erwin swallowed hard.
Truth be told, he could handle the other gold rewards with a steady hand. But this rainbow-gold prize? It had his heart racing. If not for that nagging sense of being watched—like eyes boring into him from the shadows—Erwin might have leaped from bed and let out a triumphant whoop.
That eerie surveillance had plagued him for days now, striking for about an hour each afternoon. It set his nerves on edge, though it was absent tonight. Still, Erwin played it safe, keeping his excitent reined in. The last thing he needed was to draw unwanted attention.
The good news? The system panel was invisible to anyone else. No prying eyes could glimpse his secrets.
Staring at the rainbow-gold talent, Erwin’s grin widened. The description hadn’t lied—this was a fast track to raw power. Where did he lag behind the legendary wizards of old? Two places: magical reserves and battle-hardened experience.
Combat savvy would co with ti and practice. But magical reserves? That had been his Achilles’ heel. He’d scoured books and brewed potions, chasing a breakthrough that never ca.
Now, here it was. A talent that let him siphon strength from fallen foes, like claiming spoils from a duel won. The road to mastery stretched out, clear and inviting. Erwin itched to test it—find a dark wizard or beast and strike.
He shoved the urge down, focusing instead. First things first: claim the Plunder talent before it vanished like a poorly cast illusion.
The instant he did, far across the wizarding world, in a fog-shrouded enclave of ancient spires, an elder wizard with a flowing white beard toppled forward in his tower sanctum. Blood sprayed from his lips as a glowing compass exploded in shards before him.
Disregarding the crimson stain on his robes, the old man gaped at the wreckage. "Impossible! The prophecies were clear—how could the path diverge so wildly? The founders foresaw this! What force has twisted fate?"
His gnarled fingers traced frantic runes in the air. Tiny glyphs swirled around the compass’s remains, only to shatter like brittle glass.
"Blast it—my power’s too weak to pierce the veil! Is there no hope this ti? It’s all unraveling, nothing like the ancient seers predicted!"
In a distant cavern, another figure stirred. A black-robed wizard, eyes sharp as flint, snapped them open from ditation.
"Sothing’s shifted. Interference? An unforeseen variable, even with our safeguards?" He chuckled dryly. "No matter. The old orders will adapt—they always do."
As he spoke, he shifted on the stone floor. A coil of dark mist beneath him fractured with a hiss.
"Easy now," he murmured to the shadows. "Your ti hasn’t co. Soone will contain you yet. Conserve your fury—escape’s a fool’s dream."
Back in his quarters, Erwin remained blissfully ignorant of the ripples he’d caused. He savored the new talent’s hum in his veins, a quiet thrill building.
Regret crept in, though. He should’ve waited until he’d crushed the Yaxley family outright. What a missed chance to harvest their magical essence!
His mind wandered darker paths. Dumbledore would fall soday—could he claim that power? Or Voldemort, Grindelwald? The potential haul was staggering.
At that exact mont, the three titans of the wizarding world shivered in unison, as if a chill wind carried whispers of doom.
Shaking off the whimsy, Erwin pocketed the talent and delved into his inventory. He pulled out a shimring card.
[Talent Upgrade Card: Elevates any passive gold talent to rainbow-gold quality.]
His eyes glead. A second rainbow-gold talent? Priceless. This draw had already paid off tenfold—the rest was gravy.
Relaxed now, Erwin sifted through the haul. First, the dross: forty trinkets, pure rubbish. Gone in a flick of his wrist.
Talent points next: twenty-one standard ones, plus ten from the preliminary pull, totaling thirty-one. Ten advanced points—a solid yield. Three item upgrade cards. Nine spell proficiency packs, each worth ten thousand galleons in practice ti. Two talent fusion cards.
All told, from 110 draws: forty junk items, thirty-one normal talent points, ten advanced ones. Four item upgrades (including the special talent one), one spell upgrade, two fusions. Nine proficiency packs. And the crown jewels: the rainbow-gold Plunder, atop his existing Infinite Firepower.
Erwin’s satisfaction deepened. The wait had been worth every restless night.
He rubbed his hands, eager for more. Ti for the blind boxes.
With a gesture, the first golden card materialized.
[The Beast Tar’s Touch: Equip to harness a beguiling aura that soothes the savage heart—’Touch and Ta.’ Any magical creature brushed by this gift turns docile and serene. Drawn from whimsical wizarding tales, but heed the warning: trolls, being brainless brutes, remain unmoved.]
Erwin’s lips quirked in amusent. "Touch and Ta"—a cheeky na, but potent.
His existing Magical Creature Affinity fostered goodwill, sure. Yet with truly feral beasts, friendliness might not prevent a snap of jaws.
This was different: a true pacifier, rendering even the wildest creatures placid. The label might sting, but in a pinch—facing a rampaging hippogriff or acromantula swarm—it could save his skin.
He equipped it without hesitation, feeling a warm pulse spread through him. Another tool in the arsenal, perfectly suited to the dangers ahead.
As the night deepened, Erwin lay back, mind buzzing with possibilities. The wizarding world felt smaller, more conquerable. Whatever shadows lurked, he’d face them head-on—stronger, sharper, unstoppable.
...
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