Another 0.2% increase!
The corners of Ethan's mouth curled upward as a surge of unexpected ecstasy washed over him. In the void of his mind, he could almost see that shimmering golden Door of the Zenith, suspended high above the world.
If he just reached out, he could touch it.
"…However, simply reaching the final threshold isn't enough. To pass through that door, one must possess the Key."
Ethan murmured to himself, deep in thought.
"According to the hint given by that high-ranking servant, the [Maiden in the Mirror], the key to the Door of the Zenith is hidden within the mind of the wisest person."
'Wisdom' again.
After his recent escapades, Ethan was starting to develop a case of PTSD whenever the word 'wisdom' cropped up. He was genuinely afraid that if he didn't restrain himself, he'd fall headfirst into some sort of 'infinite mad art' again.
"From Voldemort to the various prodigies of Ravenclaw, it feels like the smart ones are always the ones causing trouble. Honestly, a loyal and simple-hearted person like me should really just belong in Hufflepuff~"
Ethan—the literal personification of Ravenclaw—let out a click of his tongue in mock lamentation.
Well, the bridge would collapse when they got to it. While he didn't have a lead on the Key yet, if it was related to 'wisdom,' then it was clearly a burden his house, Ravenclaw, was duty-bound to carry.
The thought flashed by and vanished.
The herbal scent of brewing potions filled the air, and a dim light flickered through the gloom. Ethan opened his eyes to find himself back in the Potions Master's office.
Upon seeing him wake, Professor Slughorn, who had been bouncing around his cauldron like a dancing walrus, spun around abruptly!
From his bloodshot little eyes, a sudden, brilliant light erupted!
He had just opened his mouth to speak—"Mr. Vincent! The potion—"
"—The cure for the Maledictus, it's finally finished, isn't it?" Ethan finished the sentence for him, looking at the trembling old professor with a smile.
"! Y-Yes! We finally succeeded!!"
Slughorn gasped, momentarily startled. Then, a wave of emotion hit him. He thought to himself: Ethan didn't even wait for me to finish before he knew… He truly trusts in my abilities!
"Hmm, it seems the system was right." Ethan nodded.
He stood up and extended a hand toward the old professor, his smile widening. "You've worked hard, Professor Slughorn. I believe that in the future of Potions—no, the entire Wizarding World—your name shall be immortalized."
Slughorn's face turned a deep crimson, and he took several sharp, ragged breaths. He could already see it: his name, his family's surname, engraved upon a monument of eternal glory!
In the midst of his daydreaming, he saw Ethan beckon with his hand. Slughorn snapped back to reality, spun around, and used a glass syringe to carefully draw the potion, handing it over to Ethan.
It was a tube of rose-pink liquid, reflecting shifting lights and shadows. It looked as though a nebula had been trapped inside—magnificent, radiant, and radiating a profound, mysterious magic.
"You only need to inject this potion into the Maledictus all at once," Slughorn explained. "The process might be a bit painful, but as long as they endure it, the cursed individual will be reborn!"
Slughorn rubbed his palms together nervously. Time had been limited, and he didn't have a Maledictus on hand to test it on. But he believed, with every fiber of his being, that there was no issue with this serum!
"Excellent."
Ethan gripped the syringe, a burning light igniting in his cobalt-blue eyes. "This will be the key to this entire campaign!"
With a flick of his hand, a charming, vintage wardrobe appeared before them. Slughorn swallowed hard and asked hesitantly:
"By the way, Mr. Vincent, I've had a question… This Maledictus potion, who exactly is it for?"
Because most Maledictuses died tragic deaths and the curse wasn't contagious like lycanthropy, the bloodline was essentially extinct. Slughorn himself hadn't even heard the term mentioned in decades.
So—who was Ethan trying to heal?
"Oh, did I not mention it?"
Ethan pulled open the wardrobe and stepped one foot onto the baseboard. Hearing the question, he turned his head and said casually:
"It's for Voldemort's subordinate and one of his Horcruxes, the great serpent Nagini. Well, she's a subordinate of the Grim Reaper now."
Slughorn: "???"
Who?
Healing a Horcrux? A follower of Voldemort AND the Reaper??
When did you catch her—no, why are you saving a villain?!
Slughorn felt like a player who had skipped every bit of the story only to be dropped directly into the end-game credits. His head began to spin, and he collapsed weakly into an armchair, gasping for air in a state of total confusion.
"Merlin's socks…" he muttered. "Forget bringing honor to my ancestors… if I save a wicked, high-level criminal, my ancestors are going to slap the teeth out of my mouth in my dreams tonight!"
As he spoke, a wave of grief overcame him. The poor professor threw his head back and let out the standard wail of the 'Ethan Victims Association':
"Ethan! When you publish the results, for the love of everything, do NOT write my name down as your teacher—!!!"
Working with Ethan certainly brought extraordinary fame. But you really had to be careful about what kind of fame it was!
Meanwhile, Ethan used his silver-white rapier to enter the soul world where Nagini was imprisoned. He stood before the withered, ice-encased giant tree.
After all this time, the ice had begun to melt slightly. Nagini's pale, weak face was suspended within the translucent blue ice, possessing the fragile beauty of a trampled flower.
"She looks like a pickled fish," Ethan commented bluntly.
He raised the syringe and grinned. "Sleep time is over. Now, it's time to witness a miracle!"
CRACK!
The ice shattered instantly!
The crystal-clear shards poured down like a rainstorm, revealing the withered body beneath. It was as if an invisible barrier had been broken; the tangled, frozen branches began to decay and wither at a visible rate.
The closed eyes on that face began to sink rapidly!
Squelch!
The needle plunged in!
The magnificent rose-colored liquid surged into Nagini's body like a burst of sunset clouds, flowing through every meridian and every decaying branch. Strands of silk-like brilliance began to surface!
[Ugh… ahh…!]
The deathly pale Nagini suddenly knitted her brows, letting out a groan of agony. By the end, she was drenched in cold sweat, her face as white as paper.
Gurgle, gurgle!
A crimson mist, like a cocoon, gradually enveloped Nagini's massive serpent form. From Ethan's perspective, he could see the massive magical upheaval occurring within!
A moment later—
POP!
The red cocoon burst!
Thick, viscous blood flowed out, and like a newborn emerging from an egg, a pale, human figure—Nagini's true self—slid out.
"Ugh… I… what is this…?"
She raised her head in confusion and weakness, looking up at the black-haired youth before her. Her dark eyes were wet and wide, like those of a newborn fawn.
"Congratulations on your rebirth, Miss Nagini."
Ethan curled his lips into a smile and reached out his hand to her. Nagini blinked, seemingly unable to believe that the scene before her was real.
"I… I'm not dead…?" she whispered.
Magic naturally surged from her body, weaving itself into a pure white Ergani skirt. Even as she lay amidst the bloody mess, not a speck of filth touched her.
"What happened to me? Is this a human body… I… I've recovered my human form?"
Nagini's pupils trembled. She stared at her hands and feet in disbelief. She looked up, meeting Ethan's beaming eyes, and understood everything in an instant.
Tears burst from her eyes!
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