— — — — — —
The fifth zodiac palace in the study space blazed with light.
Tom was in such a good mood that he didn't even care that Fudge was using him as a prop for show. He went along with the tedious award ceremony without complaint.
The system chimed.
[Congratulations to the host for receiving the nation's highest honor medal.]
[Reward: 1000 achievement points, 5000 credits.]
[This award can be obtained repeatedly, with the reward halved each time.]
What the—this is a repeatable quest?
Still smiling beside Fudge as they posed for the photo, Tom's grin grew even brighter, this time with genuine delight.
Even if it halves every time, so what. The grind don't stop.
"Perhaps it's a little early to say this, but after you graduate, come to the Ministry of Magic. The Ministry needs talents like you—I need talents like you."
Once the ceremony ended, Fudge patted his shoulder, speaking with great sincerity.
Tom nodded with a polite smile. "If there's a chance, I'll visit the Ministry."
Never mind what he'd even do at the Ministry—just the idea of Fudge still being in office by the time he graduated was already impossible.
Only after Fudge left with his entourage did the students begin snapping out of their stunned daze.
The newspapers might have mentioned once or twice that Tom could receive the First-Class Order of Merlin, but since it had never happened, everyone had just kind of… forgotten.
A twelve-year-old holder of a First-Class Order of Merlin? That was like reciting "Macarena" while someone next to you casually wins a Nobel Prize.
The gap between people felt wider than the gap between humans and goblins.
Dumbledore didn't give them much time to process it. Fudge had taken far too long with the ceremony, and there were still announcements to be made.
"Thank you, Mr. Riddle, for bringing Hogwarts an honor unprecedented in history. He is the youngest recipient ever recorded. For this, I award Slytherin 500 points."
"This year's House Cup needs no suspense. Congratulations to Slytherin on securing the Cup for the eighth consecutive year!"
The matter with Peter Pettigrew was still unresolved, and Fudge had requested that Dumbledore keep it confidential so Barty Crouch wouldn't have the chance to interfere.
So this was the only way he could publicly reward Tom.
The students barely reacted. With or without the 500 points, the result wasn't going to change. They offered a token round of applause. Even the Slytherins didn't seem overly excited—after so many consecutive wins, they were used to it.
Once the applause faded, Dumbledore's expression turned serious.
"There are two unpleasant announcements I must make."
"Professor Wilkinson has resigned from his position as Defense Against the Dark Arts professor for personal reasons. I respect his choice and wish him lifelong happiness."
"In addition, Charity Burbage has also resigned from Muggle Studies. She believes she needs to gain a deeper understanding of modern Muggle society. Meaning, Hogwarts will be welcoming two new professors tomorrow…"
Many students exchanged strange looks.
Professor Burbage had changed after being verbally beaten down by Wilkinson. She spent time in St. Mungo's, and after returning, she became withdrawn and quiet.
Had the DADA curse started spreading to other subjects?
Laos Wilkinson had always seemed harmless—but in the end, he took two professors down with him.
Terrifying.
"For the final announcement, I'll let Professor McGonagall speak," Dumbledore concluded, stepping back.
McGonagall, ever direct, got straight to the point. "Starting next school year, Hogwarts exams will be undergoing reform."
"You will learn the specifics when the term begins. For today, I will say only this."
"When school resumes, there will be an immediate assessment test covering everything you learned this year."
"You can't be serious! You mean we have to study over break?" George shot to his feet, shouting.
"Mr. Weasley."
McGonagall's stern gaze forced him back into his seat. "Do you intend to enter your fifth year—the most critical year—and face the world's top magical students with an empty head?"
"I love this school. I believe you do too."
She swept her eyes across the hall. "If that's the case, you should also recognize that, aside from a small number of exceptional students, most of you still lack much. Two precious months should not be wasted. Holiday or not."
Everyone understood the logic. That didn't mean they liked it.
Hermione aside, no one looked happy. Tom included.
McGonagall had taken his suggestion and gone all-in—start the year with a punch to the face. Who on earth would come up with something that cruel?
"Achoo!"
Snape's ill-timed sneeze broke the silence.
"Enjoy your holiday, but don't forget you are students," McGonagall finished. "Dismissed."
Students trudged out, dejected, heading back to pack.
Well, except for one group—the seventh-years. They were all smiling wickedly, already celebrating their freedom while offering a moment of mock silence for the doomed younger years.
Tom asked Daphne to deal with the classmates who wanted to celebrate with him. Halfway through the corridor, he cast Disillusionment and slipped out of the castle.
He checked the fifth trial status.
[Fifth Trial: Fame (Completed)]
[Details: You've already gained enough strength and foundation. Now, it's time to earn the recognition to match it.]
[Trial Requirement: Obtain the Order of Merlin, First Class.]
[Reward: A random magical talent from Merlin.]
Tom had no idea what kind of spectacle the Merlin Talent reward might trigger, so the Forbidden Forest was safer. After reaching the unicorns' territory, he released Usaki to guard the area from any magical beasts that might interrupt him. Only then did he touch the palace and claim his reward.
[Ding~]
A golden stream of light burst from the palace, shifting from formless to solid, then swept across his entire body in an instant.
Tom shivered, then quickly returned to normal. The very next moment, the world shifted before his eyes. The night sky—pitch-black just moments ago—became slightly bright, and in the distance, countless clusters of rainbow-colored light flickered among the trees. The brightest one was directly overhead—Usaki.
At the same time, he instinctively understood what ability he had gained.
[Merlin's Magic Sense: The host now possesses magic perception equal in sharpness to Merlin's level.]
The description was so short it left Tom momentarily confused.
Magic perception counts as a talent?
But within moments, he understood just how powerful it was.
Magic is an accepted but abstract concept in the wizarding world. Everyone acknowledges its existence—denying it would be like denying wizards themselves.
Yet very few could ever describe what magic truly is. It could only be vaguely felt while casting spells or near concentrated magical entities.
Now, Tom could literally see magic. Sense its flow. Track how it shifts as it moves.
Abstract concept? More like incompetence disguised as philosophy.
Only now did he feel like his eyes had truly opened to the world.
It was like being on a long journey to unveil the essence of magic—lifting layer after layer of sheer silk, and at last catching a clear glimpse of the courtesan beneath, her beauty almost within reach.
"Bombarda," Tom murmured, drawing his wand and slowly releasing Exploding Curse at the slowest possible pace.
He watched it—every flicker, every shift. The spell's magic went from calm to violent, then into raging explosive force. Every change in state was crystal clear.
"…Whoa." He sucked in a breath of cold night air, personally contributing to global warming.
"No wonder Merlin was called the god of magic and Prince of Enchanters. Everyone else is fumbling in the dark, while he started with the answer sheet already in hand. How could he not be terrifying?"
With this ability, he could analyze his own spells, copy others', and perceive the world on a deeper level than anyone around him.
Later, when he studied Andros and Grindelwald's magic, combined with his Turbo Mode, the learning speed was so fast it scared even him.
"Hahaha!"
Tom's wild laughter echoed through the forest, sending flocks of birds scattering in panic.
He usually didn't show off like this—unless he just couldn't hold it back.
This was way better than any magic-enhancement talent or specialized spell affinity. It was like someone had installed a scanner and a full Arcane Parsing System right in his brain. Studying, comprehending—everything would now take half the effort for double the result.
Usaki, seeing her master in high spirits, bounded over affectionately—
—Thud!
Tom was immediately flattened.
"Ow—my back!"
"Usaki! You forgot to shrink!"
In full form, Usaki now stretched past ten meters and weighed over five tons. Tom nearly saw his life flash before his eyes.
"Wuu…" Usaki realized she'd messed up and quickly shrank down, putting on her best innocent face.
"I'm not even mad, why are you acting all wronged?"
Grumbling, he rubbed her head and, too lazy to get up again, simply lay back on the ground and unlocked the 8th trial.
[Eighth Trial: Wealth!]
[Details: Fame isn't enough. The host must also gain fortune. Earn 5,000,000 Galleons and become the publicly recognized richest wizard in the world. Current progress: 0 / 5,000,000.]
[Reward: 1 Golden Apple, 1 Golden Apple Tree Seed.]
[Golden Apple: A wedding gift from Gaia, the Earth Goddess, to Hera. Consuming it grants endless lifespan, eternal youth, and awakens divine power. The apple tree seed requires immense magic to grow.]
[Note: The Golden Apple Trial originates from Heracles' punishment tasks. No cheating or loopholes permitted. All profit must be legal and legitimate.]
Tom sat bolt upright.
What—excuse me?
Madam Trial, what are you implying?
Was Tom Riddle the kind of person who would cheat, exploit loopholes, or use underhanded tricks?
This was an insult to his character!
…That being said, he couldn't stop the small, joyful tear that escaped the corner of his mouth.
A Golden Apple… not only one of the most famous treasures in Greek mythology, but also legendary in Norse mythology.
Forget the vague "divine power"—just eternal youth and immortality alone surpassed every known magical artifact in the wizarding world. Nicolas Flamel's Philosopher's Stone didn't even deserve to be in the same sentence.
And there was a seed. Meaning he could grow more.
He could just… give everyone he liked eternal youth and immortality.
Once upon a time, he'd scoffed at money. Power came first; wealth would follow. People would throw fortunes at him just for breathing.
But suddenly… he felt quite motivated to make money. Trash trial or not, it totally ignored the hard-earned tens of thousands of Galleons he already had.
Five million?
Would shoplifting count as legitimate business? Maybe try it tomorrow just to see?
Putting away the unicorns and hugging Usaki, Tom headed back toward the castle, a few potential "targets" already forming in his mind.
...
The next morning, he got up early. He planned to visit the Headmaster's office to take the gargoyle, but when he passed through the common room, he spotted Draco Malfoy bragging to his two goons. Tom's eyes lit up.
"Tom, good morning," Draco greeted quickly, and his two followers followed suit.
"Morning." Tom smiled and held out his hand. "Out of cash, Draco. Lend me some."
Draco screamed internally, but his hands moved with admirable speed. Not only did he empty his own pockets, he even shook down Crabbe and Goyle. In the end, they scraped together a little over fifty Galleons.
Tom took the money and slipped it into his wallet.
His progress bar remained at zero.
So that didn't count as legitimate earnings either. Tsk!
A little disappointed, Tom walked out of the common room under three confused gazes.
Draco frowned. "We gave him everything we had—so why did Tom look even more unhappy?"
The two blockheads didn't answer, only nodded along cluelessly. Draco threw his arms up in exasperation and stormed back to the dorm.
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