Support me and be 30 chapters ahead of webnovel:
patreon.com/Draco_
******
Even for Seti, this was an extraordinarily unique experience.
All candidates within the Ascension Sequence faced the issue of "compatibility." While it was often described as such, in reality, it was about finding a way to introduce a minuscule seed of Awakened Magic into a candidate's body—one that wouldn't completely reject the host. Through specialized means, this microscopic trace of magic would be implanted, diluted, and weakened to its lowest possible state. Using this as a foundation, the candidate's entire magical system would then be transformed.
The final stage of this transformation would drastically reduce the candidate's magical capacity to its absolute minimum. A person who could previously cast a thousand standard spells might find themselves struggling to produce even a faint flicker of light. Only after several months—sometimes up to a year—of physical reinforcement would they gradually begin to generate new magic infused with the characteristics of Awakened Magic.
Although this new magic lacked the immortality of true Awakened Magic, it contained a willpower far beyond that of ordinary magic. Wizards, whose magical strength was once considered the weakest among magical beings, would now be capable of feats they had never imagined.
Their physical endurance, magical potency, control over magic, and resistance to spells would all improve dramatically. Even in the realm of magical creatures, these transformed spellcasters would be able to stand their ground against formidable beasts. At the very least, situations where a team of ten Aurors was needed to subdue a low-tier magical beast, such as a horned dromedary, would become a thing of the past.
Some might argue that simply casting the Killing Curse would suffice to eliminate magical creatures. However, the effectiveness of the curse depended on the caster's magical strength. If the gap was too great, even a direct hit would do little more than cause a nosebleed. A standard wizard, even if they fired dozens of lethal curses at an unguarded magical creature, might find that the only reaction they received was mild irritation at the green light.
Since ancient times, spellcasters have relied on technique rather than brute force to deal with magical creatures. Even poachers who hunted these beasts never engaged them head-on; instead, they set traps, drove them into enclosures, or lured them into prepared ambushes.
However, after completing the transformation, it was as if a wild beast attacking a vehicle had suddenly been equipped with Wolverine's Adamantium claws. What once only scratched the paint would now tear through metal with ease. If the beast had already been powerful, then with these newfound "claws," it could even rip open the armor of a tank.
And what about those rare individuals whose fusion rate exceeded 10%?
Perhaps they would grow new fangs and claws, reinforcing their bodies with an indestructible alloy, elevating their very essence to something beyond human.
Beneath the towering gravestone in the cemetery, on a vast and immaculately maintained altar, a solemn chant echoed like the voice of the heavens. Six chains, each radiating a different hue, pierced the limbs, torso, and skull of a man clad only in shorts. Awakened Magic runes, transmitted through these chains, formed intricate and profound patterns across his body like tattooed sigils. As they resonated, the immense gravestone above them lit up with a thousand pinpricks of starlike radiance.
At this moment, a candidate undergoing the transformation ritual would usually be subjected to a test—a process where thousands of lingering spiritual fragments left behind by past Awakened Ones would evaluate whether the candidate was worthy of inheriting even a sliver of their power. Countless threads of magic would pierce their body, sensing, probing, determining if they could bear even a fraction of the energy within.
But today was different.
Today, those silent spirits merely watched.
They observed the gentle white glow before the man, saw it extend a hand toward him, and witnessed it offer a warm yet weightless embrace.
Lily Evans' Awakened Magic was fundamentally different from the chaotic, impure Awakened Magic within Harry's body. Pure white magic and the black-white interwoven hue of his iron-gray magic were like forces from two separate worlds. The spiritual intent infused within each Awakened's magic varied based on their will and ideals. Yet, despite their seemingly incompatible natures, when these two forces touched, they blended with surprising harmony.
Harry had already completed the first stage that all other Ascension candidates underwent. The moment his body produced magic that was no longer a faint blue, the absorption and transformation had already begun. His body's deterioration due to the influence of Awakened Magic had commenced then as well.
Because of this, even though his magic refinement process followed the same steps as others, Harry's results far exceeded theirs. The sheer physical strength he now possessed rivaled that of magical beasts, yet it wasn't merely the product of training. Humans had natural limits—but his iron-gray magic acted as a key to surpassing those limits, albeit only by a fraction.
But today, that fraction would widen.
The process of power integration was forcibly accelerated. What had been passive, what had nearly stagnated, was now being propelled forward by an external force.
"Go embrace her."
Seti's voice echoed in Harry's ears.
"Your mother's power will never reject you. Your body will not resist her presence. But how much of her strength you can fuse… depends on you alone."
"Welcome to Glorious Evolution."
At that moment, the magic-infused chains binding Harry shattered. The intricate sigils across his body dimmed. The barrier that once restrained Lily's magic from fully returning to its vessel vanished.
Bathed in white light, Harry felt as though he had been submerged in a hot spring. To a child, a mother's warm embrace was the most reassuring sanctuary in the world. But this time, something was different.
Lily's remaining power was no longer the same passive force that had merely treated Harry as a vessel—no longer a guardian that would activate only under specific conditions to protect him.
His body, now marked with Awakened Magic sigils, absorbed the white radiance like a parched sponge soaking up water. He devoured the energy with a hunger akin to an infant yearning for nourishment, feeding on its essence and growing at an unimaginable pace.
Harry had never fully understood what it meant to possess "the most naturally attuned body for magic." Seti had once told him that Awakened Ones had the power to tear apart dragons with their bare hands. But Harry had never been able to grasp what that truly meant—just as he had never understood how Hagrid, a half-giant, could swing a Mountain Drake several times his size by the tail and slam it into the ground.
But now, as the pure white energy surged into his body, as it was hungrily absorbed into his very being, he began to understand.
The moment Lily's magic entered him, the sigils embedded in his body acted as the ultimate conversion mechanism. The once-pure white glow became stained with chaotic black, blending into an iron-gray hue. In that instant, an unseen force stirred, mixing the energy with overwhelming intensity, flooding every corner of his body.
A nearly unbearable sensation of swelling gripped Harry—it was as if he were inflating like a balloon, expanding without end.
He could hear it—his own body being stretched to its limits. The grinding of bones, the sharp crack of fractures under strain. His mouth opened in a silent gasp, his throat torn apart from within by the surging magic, leaving him unable to do anything but wheeze in agony.
Then, in the moment when his body could no longer contain the flood of power—
A single, powerful heartbeat rang out like a tolling bell.
With a thunderous pulse, the accumulated magic shattered its confinement. A mouthful of blood, thick with iron, spilled from Harry's lips. His ragged breathing, like the bellows of a broken forge, struggled to push through the suffocating weight of the magic within him.
And in that moment—he grew.
Those were two glowing dots—real yet intangible objects. They were Harry's second magical heart and second magical lungs, organs not belonging to human spellcasters. These additional, unknown organs formed part of the Awakener's body, existing independently from 'normal' humans, a second system of self-service for their being.
It was similar to an Animagus's transformed second body, a body that belonged to the wizard yet was separate from them—a second flesh and blood vessel.
At the moment when the magical heart and lungs were ignited, a third faint light point began to form, marking the official start of evolution into a non-human form.
The magic that had been trapped inside Harry's body found its outlet. Within moments, seventeen more glowing dots lit up.
His bones were being reshaped. Those that had been crushed and shattered were now enveloped by the fibers radiating from a glowing dot, and the internal structure of the reformed bones was no longer human. The original 206 bones had multiplied more than twofold during the continual division and restructuring. Those abnormal movements and postures were no longer difficult for him.
To allow his reformed skeletal structure to move and exert force properly, his muscle structure was completely altered. The dense, bulky muscle fibers from his earlier training were dismantled, as if a crude single-cylinder diesel engine had been replaced with a precise miniature nuclear fusion engine—smaller, more powerful, and with a complete transformation. The result was a new body shell, full of endless potential.
Blood vessels, nerves, the senses of hearing, sight, smell, taste, and touch—all were drastically changed. There was even a magical stomach, similar to the heart and lungs, and even the soul, once intangible, was now encased in a thin layer of membrane.
Awakeners no longer needed to humble themselves with words; they were semi-gods in the world. Though their bodies had inherent flaws and could only wield part of the world's fundamental powers, those who possessed such abilities had already surpassed ordinary beings.
The long process of transformation was not pleasant. The newly reformed body felt unfamiliar to Harry, even though it was his own. It was as though he didn't truly know it. But as he carefully observed the changes, he began to notice something interesting.
His body was being reshaped, continually built upon. However, the 'material' forming his new body seemed to appear out of nowhere. His height had slightly increased, and his weight had also grown, yet there was no grand feast nor an endless supply of nutrition.
Magic once again altered the laws of reality, turning something that should not exist into something tangible.
This growth, however, was not without source. If the Awakener's magic script could create all things, then the Awakener's magical power was the fuel that ran the machine, the raw materials used to create these things. Just like how elemental lightning can become physical, the Awakener's magic had now turned into the very substance needed to form flesh and blood, filling in the gaps in Harry's reconstructed body.
Seth had been right: Awakeners did possess the power to create new worlds. But this power was incomplete and flawed. The world had not granted them full access to its authority. The materials used to form Harry's new body were 'virtual'—substitutes simulated by magic. If this magical energy wasn't fully consumed before the energy ran out, Harry's body would fall apart in an instant.
'This is the constraint, the limitation that the world imposes on Awakeners. They cannot possess all the power of the world and perform true creation.'
At that moment, Harry understood where Seth had failed—not because he wasn't exceptional, but because the conditions had restricted him.
As the white light began to fade, the power Lily had given Harry was nearly completely transformed into his own magical energy. The transformation of his body was nearing its end. As the light dimmed, a handful of crystalline sand appeared before Harry.
Without anyone needing to explain, Harry understood. This handful of crystalline sand was the last trace Lily had left in this world. Compared to the complete spiritual crystals left by other Awakeners, hers had shattered into pieces that could never be reassembled. In breaking her eternal spiritual crystal into irreparable fragments, Lily had endured unimaginable suffering.
To break what should have been her eternal spiritual crystal into irreparable pieces, losing its immortality—this was a pain that surpassed a thousand times the agony of being alive and sliced to death by a blade.
But she had still done it. She had feared that if she didn't leave this power behind, her beloved and only son would not survive the death that awaited him. This was a mother's final, most precious gift to her child: the protection of love and an unwavering determination to care for him, even after her death.
The crystalline sand melted, and Lily's immortal spiritual crystal fully fused with her child's body, coating the iron-gray magic with a shimmering glow. It was like a spirit wandering through a murky world, bringing a glimpse of something to long for—a hopeful light in this bleak world.
"Thank you, Mom. Thank you for everything you've done for me." Harry wanted to touch the figure that smiled so gently at him, but his hand reached through empty air. Yet, his palm felt warm, as though someone was intimately holding it.
It seemed like someone was speaking to him.
'Live well, Harry. Live a happy and joyful life, my son.'
(End of Chapter)