Chapter 58
Chapter 58: The Birth
Just as Alexander was considering whether to create a new spell, a sharp incantation snapped him back to reality.
"Split into pieces!" Kate shouted, waving her wand energetically.
Alexander chuckled inwardly. Forget it. There's no need for a spell to strip clothes. I can change as I please. If needed, I can just write a spell and teach it.
Sliding his white knight wand and aspen wand back into his pocket, he drew out the Black Knight—his old and powerful weapon that hadn't seen the light in a long time.
The Black Knight was the legacy of his father, George Smith, finally completed by Alexander himself. It was an imitation of the Elder Wand, forged with Smith family magic, designed not just to amplify spells but to endure time itself.
Like the Sword of Gryffindor, it had the rare property of absorbing magical essence to become stronger. Crafted with the mechanics of a firearm, it could remember the last spell cast and re-fire it as a light bullet with only a magic input. Thanks to its spell memory and acceleration features, it made Alexander nearly unstoppable.
Forged with Alexander's own magic essence, its endurance was phenomenal. With enough power, the light bullets could split mid-air and target multiple enemies—especially lethal when combined with his custom wand-combat techniques. Truly, for Alexander, this was a weapon capable of slaying gods and Buddhas alike.
As soon as his fingers touched the Black Knight, it buzzed, humming with eagerness. Despite the magic he'd already used tonight, Alexander was still energized. He stroked the wand affectionately, responding to its thirst for battle.
The rise of the Zombie Trail wasn't just due to his magic—it was his quality of magic. Unlike muscles that could be trained, magical growth for most wizards came with age. Skill breakthroughs and emotional growth triggered qualitative change, but raw quantity rarely did.
Even someone like Dumbledore wasn't amazing in magical quantity—his advantage was efficiency and mastery. But Alexander had gone far beyond.
He had mastered the Level 6 Divine Edge Shadow, briefly controlled the Death Curse at the same level, and inherited Phoenix magic. As a descendant of the Peverell family, the quality of his magic was in a league of its own.
The Zombie Trail didn't just need energy anymore—it needed something close to divinity. Only someone like Alexander, with bottomless, Ouroboros-like magic, could bring about the imminent birth of a poltergeist.
"Split into pieces," Alexander whispered, lifting the Black Knight to his cheek and mentally replacing the stored Avada Kedavra spell with the new splitting spell. He wanted better crowd control—and to keep some secrets hidden.
He turned to Kate. "Here, change the music to something cheerful."
After scanning the wooden house, Alexander retrieved the magical music player—a record player with keyboard-like buttons. It was playing an intense tune, but Kate changed it to something gentler, almost like a breeze.
Accompanied by the moans of the undead and their eerie glowing eyes, Alexander smiled. This was perfect for a little dance.
He pulled Kate close.
"Dance with me. Don't you think the fireflies suit the mood?"
Kate blushed slightly but didn't resist. She trusted his strength completely. Alexander guided her across the "dance floor," weaving through the undead. Silver light bullets shot out from the Black Knight, splitting in mid-air and striking zombies from unexpected angles.
Each bullet divided a zombie neatly into five parts. No pus, no mess—just silent, surgical strikes. The rhythm of the music matched Alexander's footwork, and Kate laughed as they danced.
Zombies fell one by one, meteors crashing in time with the music.
Eventually, the music slowed, and as the final note played, the last zombie fell. The game had ended again.
"Is it over already?" Kate leaned against his chest, tilting her head.
"Do you want to keep playing?" Alexander asked gently, holstering the Black Knight.
Kate shook her head, pushing him away softly. "No… it's late. I need to rest."
She skipped back toward the cabin. As she entered, the lights turned on, and the stone platform in the lake slowly sank.
Alexander followed. The Zombie Trail reabsorbed the scattered limbs, and silence returned.
According to the guidebook he'd read, staying in the cabin overnight meant the zombies wouldn't rise again. A necessary rule to ensure wizards could rest during the journey.
He waved his wand, returning the music player to its hidden compartment, then slumped on a nearby sofa, idly flipping through a casual book as he pondered the Sao Ling's design and how to bring it back.
The cabin had no bedrooms; the first floor was both living room and sleeping space. Inside was a luxurious bathroom—likely the result of an Indian wizard's taste. The walls and floors gleamed like ivory with golden patterns, completely at odds with the cabin's modest exterior.
After Kate finished bathing and emerged in pajamas, Alexander took his turn, grumbling softly at the over-the-top décor.
Fifteen minutes later, he returned to the sofa-turned-bed, pretending to read while Kate pulled out a new vampire novel. She occasionally glanced at him, clearly imagining a vampire version of Alexander and her as the hunter.
Tomorrow night, Alexander thought, the final leg begins—into the mysterious Hemuda Triangle. I wonder what the transportation method will be… maybe we'll even meet mermaids, like the ones from the stories.
Under the dim light, the two slowly drifted off to sleep again.
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