Aiden apparated into the wealthy district of Hull.
As expected, there were hardly any survivors left. These were the people who had hollowed out Hull's real economy through speculation and bribery—profiting wildly during the financial frenzy, but leaving this once-prosperous industrial city rusted and ruined. Now, their fate was nothing short of karmic retribution.
Aiden walked through the neighborhood. Twisted, severed limbs crawled along the ground, but to a Dreamwalker like him, they were nothing more than background noise.
He moved through bloodstained streets until he reached the central mansion—the epicenter of all the psychic disturbances in the area.
Raising his staff, Aiden unleashed a blast of brute magical force, reducing the mansion to rubble.
In the center of the crater, a black egg wrapped in silk threads hung in midair. At the bottom of the pit, a number of living people were piled up, seemingly prepared as a feast for whatever was about to hatch from the egg.
"Tsk, not all of them got eaten?" Aiden clicked his tongue in annoyance.
With a few casual attack spells, he burned away the threads surrounding the egg. The egg tumbled to the ground, bouncing a few times.
Aiden stripped the clothes from one of the survivors and transfigured them into a heavy lead container. With a flick of his wand, he levitated the egg and sealed it inside.
With a flash, he vanished from the scene.
Only after Aiden had finished his work did members of the Office for the Prohibition of Improper Use of Magic arrive, drawn by the magical disturbance.
"Merlin's beard…" one of them gasped, staring at the carnage. The other could only sigh.
By the time Aiden delivered the egg to the Department of Mysteries and returned, every department in the Ministry of Magic was working overtime to the breaking point.
Given that this was the second major incident of Muggles abusing magic, the Ministry finally took it seriously and established a joint regulatory office with the British government. Fudge, in a fit of bureaucratic malice, appointed Arthur Weasley as the head—leaving Arthur so busy he hadn't been home in days.
Aiden, meanwhile, was finally free to return to the Burrow.
The next morning, Aiden woke in his bed at the Burrow. Outside, Errol the owl flapped in with the morning paper, hooting at the window.
Just as Errol was about to ruin Mrs. Weasley's freshly made breakfast, a fair hand intercepted him. Aiden took the newspaper, spread it open, and read the headline:
"Gas Explosion Strikes Again—Is Britain's Public Service Management Failing?"
Aiden silently mourned for the poor, nameless gas company and enjoyed his breakfast.
After eating his fill, he stepped outside to digest. The warm sunlight made him drowsy. Summer truly was the perfect season for sleeping.
"Spring drowsiness, summer fatigue, autumn lethargy, winter hibernation—you really do live the dream all year round," the system teased.
"Oh, you're here. Everything handled?" Aiden asked.
"It's all taken care of," the system replied.
Aiden activated Dream Traverse, using the system as a channel, and returned to Avalon.
During the last battle with the Deep Realm King, the Department of Mysteries had projected a massive amount of material into Avalon using alchemical rituals. This provided the foundation for Aiden's next plan. Building on the technology left by the goblins, Aiden made his own improvements.
After a year of studying alchemy, Aiden could now embed multiple concepts into a single rune: information/communication (Ansuz) (ᚨ), exchange/generosity (Gebo) (ᚷ), self/other (Mannaz) (ᛗ), and fertility/growth (Ingwaz) (ᛜ).
Combining these with the ritual he constructed in Avalon, he finally created the first psychic cloud server.
The most powerful aspect of this server was that it could provide a connection for beings without magic, allowing those linked to receive a mental boost and reach a state where the mind took precedence over the soul.
In short, ordinary people connected to this server would enjoy accelerated thinking, computational support, and even the potential to wield magic.
"At last, I can fulfill my promise to Filch," Aiden thought.
After finishing up in Avalon, Aiden returned to reality—only to find a goblin kneeling before him.
Aiden: "..."
"Oh great master," the goblin said in a strange accent, speaking in human language.
Hearing those words, Aiden's PTSD kicked in, and he reflexively kicked the goblin away.
"The goblins are your followers, and you treat them like that?" the system chided.
"Huh?" Aiden blinked, then suddenly remembered the group of goblins in the mountains. Guilt washed over him, and he helped the goblin up, casting a healing spell.
"Oh, my lord is so merciful, thinking of us so much," the goblin said, bowing deeply.
"I'm sorry for treating you like that. You startled me. So, what brings you here?"
"Oh, I actually startled my lord—such disrespect. But my lord, I am here to report on the development of the faith."
The goblin dusted himself off and began to pray.
"Oh sun-like, most holy lord, our footsteps have already covered the island. Do you have any further instructions?"
The goblin danced and prayed, performing a ritual they'd clearly practiced hard. As the object of worship and the only audience, Aiden felt so awkward he wished he could dig a hole and disappear.
Suppressing his urge to flee, he forced a smile. "You've all done very well. Next, you'll join the organization I've created."
Aiden waved his wand. "Lada, come here!"
The little cat, Lada, who'd been playing on Aiden's bed, was magically summoned outside.
"Hey, what are you doing, you litter box attendant?" Lada protested.
Aiden ignored her and addressed the goblin. "From now on, this will be your leader—the president of the Curly Baboon Protection Association, Lada Prewett."
Aiden held Lada up high. The goblin immediately knelt.
"So this is the angel at my lord's side? I understand now—the angel who rules over all beasts. Goblin Grimble greets you with utmost respect."
"Hey, what's he saying? I don't understand a word," Lada complained.
"Very good. Now, I have an order for you. I need you to keep a close watch on an organization called the Attendant Council," Aiden instructed.
"Your will," the goblin replied, bowed, and left.
"Lada, from now on, you'll be in charge of communicating with Grimble. He'll pass information to you, and you'll pass it to me," Aiden told her.
"Five fish snacks a day," Lada bargained, scratching her ear.
"Five every three days," Aiden countered.
"Every day," Lada insisted, turning her little head.
"No way. If Aunt Molly sees you getting fat, she'll put you on a diet," Aiden threatened.
"Sigh, fine, I'll take a loss—two a day," Lada relented, thinking of Mrs. Weasley.
Their happy deal ended with this haggling, and Aiden smiled, feeling that—for now—peace had returned.
[Chapter Complete]
***
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