HP/LOTM: Visionary - 446

Chapter 446: The Good and Evil of All Living Things, Preparations for the East’s Conversion

The beautiful dragon before them posed his question, mismatched draconic eyes staring straight into the children’s souls.

“Is that even a question?” the leader slammed his palm on the table. “Of course, we’d want it. Magic’s brilliant. You could conjure food, make clothes, and then we wouldn’t have to worry about survival ever again.”

“Is that so? Then let me have a look,” Aiden said.

He lifted a finger and tapped lightly.

Grey mist swept over them.

The boy, Brian Jenkins, was pulled into a dream, and the Writer began to run his future forward.

When Jenkins woke, he discovered he could use magic.

With a short black stick in his hand, he realised he could do almost anything.

The first thing he did with that power was take revenge on the bakery owner. Back when they’d been stolen, the man had beaten them half to death. Now, watching the baker tremble under his wand, Jenkins felt a deep, satisfied calm.

Then he conjured piles of food and filled his own stomach, and his friends’ too. After that, he took food and money back to the orphanage.

As his control over magic sharpened, Jenkins discovered he could influence people. He began gathering men and resources in bulk, pushing into Britain’s underworld.

A street orphan wasn’t made of softness. If anything, they often grew up without much reverence for life. Jenkins thrived in the dark, and once he became Britain’s biggest gang boss, he reached upwards into the world of the ‘respectable’.

Profit, bloodshed, schemes, betrayal.

That became his life.

In the end, a white-haired old man lay in a luxurious manor bed and placed his wand into his child’s hands.

“Legacy and selfish desire?” the handsome dragon murmured, lounging above the clouds against a chair woven from grey mist.

“So that’s what an ordinary person does after getting magic. Maybe I need more samples.”

Aiden opened his eyes.

Above the sea of collective unconsciousness, enormous dragon eyes appeared.

The dragon’s breath stirred a storm across the Sea of Consciousness, sweeping countless dreams into motion. The shared consciousness of the entire European continent was drowned in a dream, and the dragon's eyes entered sleep alongside millions upon millions of ordinary people.

“Tch. Lucky for me, it’s Europe under my watch,” Oliver clicked his tongue on the Atlantic island. “If it were anyone else, they’d drag people in to jump him.”

That night, everyone living across Europe had a bizarre, dazzling dream.

In their dreams, they became wizards, wielding power that could freely reshape the world.

Doctors, chefs, lawyers, firefighters, politicians, waiters.

All kinds of people, guided by their own wishes, raised wands and rewrote their dream-worlds.

Some used that strength to commit evil.

But far more of them used it, slowly and carefully, to make the world better.

“Interesting,” Aiden said, rubbing his chin. “There are plenty who do wrong, but once an individual gains power that can break through society’s rules, more of them still choose good. Or maybe it’s that plain, stubborn justice and kindness that ordinary people carry.”

Once he had a rough understanding, Aiden followed the Sea of Consciousness and drifted eastward.

East side

The Dragon-Tiger Grotto-Heaven.

"As the East’s first line of defence against the Deep Realm, Dongxia’s security was severe. Any wizard who tried to approach would be blasted to ash by defensive formations before taking three steps."

Celestial Master Zhang Chengrui, who had held the title for seventy years, lifted a pot of fine tea and took a slow sip.

Another peaceful, quiet day, he thought, glancing up at the artificial sky and sunlight above.

Boom!

A colossal object slammed in from the Misty Illusion Realm and crashed into the grotto-heaven.

In less than a breath, the entire Dragon-Tiger Grotto-Heaven went to full alert. Alarm arrays, defence arrays, strike arrays, all driven to their limits.

So was the Celestial Master’s blood pressure.

“Aiden Prewett!”

The old man’s roar echoed through the entire grotto-heaven.

Vast magic formed seven bright stars in the sky. Arranged from head to tail, they took the shape of a ladle.

Then those stars, carrying unstoppable might, smashed down toward the dragon head that had pushed into the grotto-heaven.

Boom, boom, boom…!

Seven explosions rang out.

Silence returned.

The Celestial Master sat back down in the council chamber he’d been in a moment ago.

Beside him, a dragon was rubbing its head.

“I only accidentally smashed your garden,” Aiden complained. “Was it really necessary to use the Silent Slate on me?”

Watching the little menace who had just destroyed the flowerbed he’d painstakingly built, the Celestial Master’s forehead veins pulsed.

“Hmph.”

He reached with his left hand for his teacup, while his right hand, hidden beneath his robes, trembled faintly.

Just now, he had pushed the Silent Slate with everything he had.

And this thick-skinned monster still hadn’t been pierced, even with his own strength reinforced by Protocol power.

The thought sent his mind drifting for a moment.

“Enough clowning,” the Celestial Master said, voice flat. “What are you really here for?”

“To consult a respected elder,” Aiden replied, wearing an innocent smile with a touch of cheek. “If I open up Avalon’s supply and begin large-scale conversion of wizards, will you… keep up with us?”

“You’re going to start a plan for everyone to become wizards?” The Celestial Master’s eyes widened in shock at the sheer madness of it.

“Yes,” Aiden said, draining his tea and idly turning the cup in his fingers. “The East has been fighting the Deep Realm longer than anyone. You should know the Misty Illusion Realm can’t hold much longer.”

“But there’s still some time,” the Celestial Master muttered.

“You can’t keep thinking you’ll just drag it out one more day,” Aiden said, giving him a slight prod. “Then, once it finally explodes, you just trust the next generation to figure it out.”

The old man sighed.

“You lot are always tormenting the elderly. You tormented my master back then, and now you’re tormenting me.”

“Because you all love holding onto the burden and never sharing it with anyone else,” Aiden said, lips curling, eyes bright. “Wouldn’t it be better to pass it on to the young?”

“Heh. Those brats? Not yet,” the Celestial Master snorted.

He glanced at a few disciples training below. A faint light flickered in his hand, and each of them got a sharp flick to the forehead, one after another.

“All right, stop provoking me,” he said. “If Europe starts the plan, the East will follow.”

He took out a document and handed it to Aiden.

Aiden opened it.

Six large characters stared back at him.

Universal Cultivation Plan.

“Good.” Aiden closed the document, set it down, and stood to leave.

“Wait,” the Celestial Master said, reaching out to grab him. “You’re ignoring the United States, India, Africa, and South America?”

Aiden spoke as if it were obvious.

“Africa’s Egypt has been ours for ages. Once the three of us agree, do you really think the Americans, with their temperament, won’t follow? And India is wedged between our two sides. Do they have the nerve not to? In the end, out of six major factions, five will be in. Who’s the last one going to be afraid of, if they’re not afraid of being isolated?”

He had arranged the other Silent Slate powers with a few casual sentences.

The Celestial Master clicked his tongue in amazement.

“Monster,” he said. “The things down below really have rotten luck, running into you.”