Serafall entered the room, wrinkling her nose. The pungent smell of sex entered her nostrils. She had to look down at the bed on the floor, broken from what must have been a magnificent threesome. She appreciated Altair's naked body, as well as Lavender's and the nurse's.
"A good rest, huh?" she asked into the air.
Altair gave her a thumbs up, and she almost snorted at his shamelessness. She wanted to join in, but the timing wasn't right for fun.
"It was... a medical... fuck," Poppy muttered in her semi-conscious state. Her legs were spread wide, and her pussy was so red that you could put an apple in front of it and it would blend in if it weren't for the white that accompanied it.
"Albus wasn't even looking for me," Serafall said with a pout. Poppy let out a giggle. "No invitation for Miracle Levia-tan?" she said with seemingly genuine sadness.
"Poppy is a greedy witch," Altair said as he shook off the embrace of a sleeping Lavender.
"Hold on there, Al-tan!" Serafall held her palm out in front of her. "I have to go, Satan business and stuff," she said with a hint of annoyance. But above all, she was a responsible devil.
"No time?" Altair asked, his cock still not fully softening.
"No time at all," Serafall said as she looked away from him. "You're bad," she said as she walked toward the exit. She had only stopped in the infirmary to say goodbye to Altair.
"Tomorrow... I'll talk to Sona, I'll make it up to you. After all, it was thanks to you that I won the fight," Altair said, looking at the woman's legs.
"With So-tan?" Serafall asked with a smile. Altair nodded in her direction. He already had something in mind for Sona. That something included a costume very similar to the one Serafall was wearing at the moment.
"Just the three of us?" she asked again, to confirm that there would be no intruders.
"Just the three of us," Altair said as he used magic to cleanse his body. A grimace of pain appeared on his face, the side effects of the magic still affecting him. It wasn't that he was writhing in pain, but it wasn't pleasant.
"Okay, it's a deal. The beautiful magic girl is leaving! Make sure you keep your word, Al-tan," she said in high spirits. She seemed almost ecstatic at the idea; she would probably spend the whole day watching the clock and waiting for Altair's call.
In a corner of the room was Kalawarner. 'I wasn't invited either,' she thought with a sad sigh.
----------------
Before continuing with more intimate moments, Altair went to the Headmaster's office. Albus offered him a Lemon Drop as soon as he entered. His modus operandi hadn't changed at all.
"I hope the reunion was comforting," Albus said as he stroked his long white beard. "Ah... youth," he said with a nostalgic voice. "Although I suppose you're not here to talk about your mischief," he added at the end, looking him in the eyes.
Altair looked at the old wizard. In the past, he would have been somewhat defensive around him, not because he was afraid, but because of the devastating aura he emanated. He no longer felt that way; Dumbledore was weaker than he was. That idea was not comforting.
"I want to talk about magic," Altair said. The Headmaster's eyes sparkled with interest.
"Lily told me about your interest in soul magic. I must admit that I am quite good in that area..." Albus said slowly. And Altair believed every word, after all, Lily Evans's birth was undoubtedly the perfect example.
"Lily said that the soul is an anchor to the earth... something metaphysical," Altair took out his staff. He could feel it connected to him, but not completely; something was missing.
He could use it as normal sacred gear, but he suspected that he would never be able to awaken the equivalent of a Balance Breaker if it was not completely in harmony with his soul.
"It is. It is what made us someone. Yes, a body can live without a soul, but it will be nothing more than a bag of flesh and bones," Dumbledore said as he examined the staff from a distance. "I can see the staff bound to your magic, quite impressive. I think Nicholas Flamel would be quite interested in this Sacred Gear," he said, referring to the legendary alchemist. It was not a surprise that the creator of the philosopher's stone knew about Sacred Gears.
"With my magic. But not with my soul... actually, I don't quite understand it," Altair said honestly. "It's bound to my soul, but it's not," he contradicted himself as he spoke.
"That's partially correct," Albus said as he adjusted his glasses. "It's bound to your magic. And your magic, being part of you, is bound to your soul. Therefore, the staff is bound to your soul, although not directly," he explained. "Magic, body, soul. The three form the beautiful system we know as a magical being," Albus said as he stood up. "From your words, I can deduce that what you want is to have this staff connected directly to your soul, without any intermediary," he easily figured out.
Despite the difference in power between the two, a prodigious man who had lived for more than a century would undoubtedly be a master to Altair.
"Yes. Right now, I need the staff directly to use the abilities of the Sacred Gear." Altair said what was bothering him. "I believe that by being directly linked to my soul, I could use those same abilities with greater power and without the need for this... crutch," the staff, after all, was a magical conductor.
Albus remained silent, his arms crossed over his stomach. He was tall and stood upright with confidence.
"How advanced is your Occlumency?" he asked the young man.
"I can only think of two people who could force their way into my head," Altair said without sounding arrogant.
"Me and Voldemort, I suppose," Albus said lightly. "A good level. As a recommendation, always consider that there is someone above the top that you already know," he added wisely.
"Can Occlumency help me?" Altair asked.
"Yes. Occlumency is a complicated art. 'Protecting the mind' is a simplified way of putting it. In reality, it protects not only the mind, but also magic and the soul itself. Its counterpart, Legilimency, focuses on penetrating magic and the soul to obtain memories from it." Altair knew about it and could guess where Albus was going. "At a certain level, you can see your soul itself," he said, as if that were the answer.
"So this 'connection,' do I have to make it with Occlumency?" Altair asked.
"Connection, huh?" Albus scratched his chin. "I would call it more of a resonance. Bringing your sacred gear into harmony with your soul. This artifact is already connected to you as much as it possibly could, both magically and physically. It's like a second heart," the old director lectured. "That's magnificent. You couldn't have done better, really," he praised the boy. "Now, over time, both the Sacred Gear and the soul will resonate, getting to know each other. After all, the soul is more sensitive than the body," he explained. "Occlumency would help you bring the two together more quickly... it will be like you controlling your soul to resonate with the Sacred Gear," he said, walking toward his desk.
"How can you be sure that over time they will 'resonate'?" Altair asked.
"Because they are compatible. And one can support the other, improving each other. If they weren't compatible, they would ignore themselves or destroy each other," Albus replied with ease. "Although, in reality, everything I just said is only conjecture. While I'm not prone to making mistakes, it would be best for you to consult with someone with more knowledge. Someone like Azazel," Altair almost grimaced at the annoyance he felt at the thought of talking to the fallen angel. The man was almost as intense as a needy lover.
'If he were a woman, I would have already met with him,' Altair had a somewhat hypocritical thought.
"I'll talk to him... I think a message will suffice," Altair said, his pride taking a back seat to his desire to be stronger.
Improving his sacred gear was more than just something he wanted; it was a necessity. Every opportunity he had to become stronger would have to be seized. It was quite likely that at the end of the year, he would end up facing Voldemort.
'Always consider that there is someone above the top that you already know.'
Voldemort was stronger than Albus. On the same level as Altair, or at least that's what Lily had told him. He had no idea if he had become stronger or weaker, but it would be best to think he was stronger.
"Magnificent," Dumbledore said enthusiastically. "We are allies now, try to maintain good communication, they may become potential buyers," Albus said politely.
"I'll be a sacrifice, then," Altair complained.
"It may seem that way, but people are often surprisingly different from what we initially think of them," Albus said.
"Well, I guess Azazel isn't so bad." his main reluctance to talk to the man was that he was quite similar to him. Well, he would be a mixture of Altair and Issei, as perverted as the latter but fucking like the former. "Thanks for the lesson, Professor," he stood up after saying goodbye.
"Altair," Albus called him before he left his office. "We often make mistakes... it's inevitable. But mistakes made by people like you and me are more dangerous than those made by anyone else," his voice contained no reproach. "If you have any secret cards up your sleeve, any dangerous spells, prepare contingency plans in case things get out of control," he asked. "Oh, that's just the advice of a paranoid old man," he added at the end with a chuckle.
Altair was going to take that advice quite seriously.