Back in my study, the candles flickered as if bowing to the ocean of magic swirling around me. The Darkhold lay open before me, its pages turning themselves with a slow, ominous rhythm—almost like breathing.
Using my genius‑level intellect, I continued the painstaking process of dissecting the tome's contents. At first, I thought the Darkhold simply contained a vast collection of forbidden spells. But the more I studied, the more I realized something strange:
The book was growing.
Every few hours, new pages manifested—inky runes clawing their way into existence. At this point, the Darkhold held thousands of spells, rituals, diagrams, enchantments, curses, and entire magical theories. It was less a book and more a living, expanding archive of shadow.
Good thing I was immune to its corruption.My wish protected me from all mental effects, magical backlash, and dark‑magic side effects.
Where others would fall into madness, I simply… read.
But I had no intention of becoming a pure dark‑magic user. That would be wasting my potential.
So around me, floating in a ring of organized chaos, were dozens of other books:
Eldritch magic tomes, their pages unnaturally warm and humming with incomprehensible energy.
Light‑magic grimoires, shining softly, offering protection, purification, and radiant spells.
Celestial magic manuscripts, written in golden script that only revealed itself to the worthy.
Cosmic magic scrolls, containing equations and runes that bent the nature of space‑time.
Asgardian spellbooks, strong, ancient, written in runic alphabets and filled with battle magic.
A heavy volume of Destruction Magic from the DxD world, filled with apocalyptic techniques designed to erase mountains.
Transfiguration magic from the Potterverse—far more dangerous than most wizards realized. The ability to reshape matter and form at will could end battles instantly.
And even several books from the Fate universe, each containing ritual magecraft, elemental manipulation, and its own brand of high‑mysticism.
Every form of magic—light, dark, celestial, cosmic, eldritch, ancient, divine, demonic—floated within my reach, and my talent allowed me to learn them all, weaving them together into a personal magical system far beyond anything this world had ever seen.
I scribbled notes, created hybrid spells, theorized new magical laws, and even began crafting rituals entirely of my own design.
The study around me buzzed with enchantments, sigils glowing on the walls, runes crawling along the ceiling, books orbiting like planets.
My tower wasn't just becoming a fortress.It was becoming a cradle of all magic.
A place where sorcery from every universe could be combined, analyzed, and perfected by someone who could wield it without restraint.
And slowly, piece by piece, my power grew.Not chaotically.Not recklessly.But with purpose.
The world outside slumbered beneath snow.But here, in the Obsidian Tower, something extraordinary was awakening