Chapter 236 – Demigod Wizard
Late at night, in the Headmaster's office, a three-dimensional image—like the holographic projections of Muggle science fiction—floated above Dumbledore's hand.
It was an irregular sphere, painted blue with streaks of color, spinning on its axis while revolving around a dazzling golden sun. Around it, a smaller gray sphere orbited faithfully.
"This is an incomplete model of the solar system," Dumbledore said softly.
"We wizards have long been ahead of Muggles in astronomy. When they still believed in a 'heaven above a square earth,' we already knew more of the universe's truth.
"In my own school days, in Divination, Professor Pucci once displayed a complete solar system within a glass dome. Inside, the burning sun, the nine planets, and their moons revolved in harmony. It was beautiful—each star suspended in its rightful place."
Riddle frowned, puzzled. Perhaps the decline of wizarding ability really was, as Dumbledore suggested, unrelated to mingling with Muggles. After all, Dumbledore himself was a half-blood.
But why show him this model? To explain the force of gravity?
He had heard of gravity before—Newton, a Muggle who lived centuries before, had proposed it. To Tom, though, it was nothing more than a convenient summary of laws. In his eyes, such laws existed only because wizards had shaped the world through their transformations.
"I don't understand," Dumbledore pressed him. "If you already know the shape of the solar system, why still cling to the idea of a square earth? And why dismiss the greatness of Muggles landing on the moon? Until recently, I too believed no wizard had ever set foot there."
To him, it felt as though he were speaking not to an exceptional seventeen-year-old Hogwarts student, but to a child barely out of nursery.
"As I said," Riddle replied coldly, "it was all done by wizards. The sun, the planets, even the universe itself—these are transformations wrought by the gods, our ancestors. Muggles merely crawl about, naming things they will never truly command."
He looked at Dumbledore as though the man were a fool.
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"Wizards are the transformers of nature. Muggles only hunt for scraps of law. What they call science exists only where wizards do not interfere."
"I won't even mention," Dumbledore countered sharply, "how small humans—and even wizards—are compared to the celestial bodies you name. If you had truly studied Muggle Studies, or spent time in the Department of Mysteries' Space Division, you would know how absurd your words sound."
Holding the image of Earth and Moon, he added:
"To break free from Earth's gravity, one must travel faster than five miles per second. That is something no wizard has achieved with magic. And yet Muggles did it—with technology you don't understand."
Excitement glimmered in his voice. That was why, once, he and Grindelwald had feared the same thing: that if wizards ignored Muggle knowledge, a future war would only end in disaster.
"What Voldemort seeks," Dumbledore warned, "is to drive wizardkind straight into the fire."
"Well," Riddle mused, touching his chin, "perhaps I should learn Muggle Studies, if it earns such high praise from you." He paused, then asked, "By the way—when will I receive a wand?"
"I'll take you to Diagon Alley tomorrow," Dumbledore replied. "We'll buy everything you'll need for teaching—and for daily life."
"You're going with me?" Riddle asked, eyes narrowing.
"I said the same thing when you first entered Hogwarts," Dumbledore reminded him gently. "You always insisted on doing everything yourself, wandering London alone. You never let anyone accompany you."
Riddle said nothing, but his look made his feelings clear.
---
Watching from afar, Alexander Smith finally averted his gaze. The scene between the two was just too strange—awkward to watch any longer.
Yet he also understood, perhaps for the first time, why Voldemort's power had grown so great.
Magic, at its heart, was rooted in belief.
If one studied science too deeply, if one understood too well how small humans were in the vastness of the cosmos, one's spells would falter. You might know you could work magic—but your subconscious would whisper that your limits were fixed.
Voldemort was different. He believed utterly that wizards were the architects of all things. That belief fueled his magic beyond measure.
The world was only as wide as one's heart allowed. With such conviction, was it any wonder his power seemed limitless?
Perhaps this was why Ravenclaw's brilliant scholars so often fell before Gryffindor's so-called fools.
---
Alexander suddenly realized why no wizard in Atlantis had ever broken through to Level 6.
By rights, their scholarship and research into magic surpassed all others. And yet, because they were shackled by fear and doubt, they could go no further.
To wield a few Level 6 spells was one thing. To become a Level 6 wizard was entirely different.
It required not knowledge, nor raw magic power, nor the number of spells mastered—but a fundamental breakthrough of mind and philosophy.
Voldemort achieved it by reshaping himself, by embracing the philosophy that wizards were creators and magic was absolute. Dumbledore reached it through love.
And Alexander…
"My path," he whispered, "is that magic is a miracle. It has no ceiling. The only limit is myself."
In that moment, he understood why his sight had been drawn toward Hogwarts—toward Dumbledore, and toward Voldemort's resurrection. It was not curiosity. It was necessity.
Here lay the material for his own growth.
---
And in his mind, his panel shifted:
Race: Demigod / Wizard
Strength: 45 (normal human limit: 10)
Constitution: 56 (normal human limit: 10)
Magic Power: 49 (normal human limit: 10)
Skills:
Thought Lv.6 (77%)
Body Modification Lv.5 (75%)
Spellcraft Lv.6 (12%)
Detection Lv.5 (5%)
Moonlight Phantom Lv.1 (5%)
Mental Communication Lv.3 (44%)
Love Lv.2 (56%)
…
For the first time, beneath his race the word Demigod appeared, glowing faintly.
Even when he had wielded the phantom power of Level 7, and even when he had possessed a kingdom of his own, the panel had only ever labeled him wizard.
Now, all skills below Level 6 were gone.
Not erased—but transcended. For a true Level 6 wizard, mastery of lesser disciplines was only a matter of time.
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