Days passed in the waking realm while months passed within the dreamrealms.

The passage of time moved faster still in the isolated pocket where the paradox seed was sprouting.

The gods of the Lux Aeternum Court had accelerated the temporal flow in that specific area immensely, observing the unfolding process with interest.

Eilistraee had successfully integrated the Palworld inspired planet near Syntheia itself, which allowed the inhabitants to gain true life and autonomy with the passive assistance of Hades.

During the nights in the waking world, Aaric and his family would spend time on the new planet and observe the formation of the new pantheon.

The latter proved to be the more fascinating phenomenon for Aaric to behold.

He watched as the barren planet, which had begun as a small pool of moonlight essence, transformed into a gargantuan mass of water.

Over time, that endless ocean froze into solid, primordial ice.

One half of the sphere began to burn with an unquenchable fire, while the other half grew colder still, reaching temperatures so extreme that even a god could feel the biting chill.

Within that silent and frozen realm, the first being formed. It was a frost giant, grim of nature and radiating the raw power of the primordial being he was.

Soon after, a fire giant emerged on the opposite side, gripping a sword of flame and destruction. He swung the blade without rest, marking the volatile border between the freezing mist and the blazing heat.

Bizarre as it was, the third lifeform to be born was a giant cow resting calmly beside the frost giant.

Rivers of life sustaining milk flowed from her, eventually drawing the attention of Ymir, the frost giant.

He walked over to her and drank until he could hold no more. The cow, curious about the giant’s actions, began to imitate him by licking the salty ice in front of her. This simple act birthed a new god.

Buri, the first of the Aesir gods, emerged from the ice. The god glanced to the side and saw the frost giant yawning and going to sleep before simply walking off to explore the boundaries of the realm.

More giants were birthed from Ymir’s sweat, and they soon fought amongst themselves before turning their aggression toward Buri and the god who followed him.

Thus began the long and bloody war between the giants and the Aesir.

The conflict waged on as gods and giants fell alike, until three beings of mixed heritage named Rage, Desire, and Action found the sleeping Ymir and cut off his head.

Blood erupted from the fallen giant in a torrent. There was enough blood to drown the gods, enough to fill the world, and enough to form the vast oceans of the new reality.

The three gods carved the giant’s body into pieces to form eight realms, centering them around the Great Tree that had started sprouting from the void.

They stole sparks created by Surtur’s swinging sword to fashion a sun and a moon, which were forever chased by two wolves personifying mockery and hatred.

The World Tree grew larger, its roots digging into the fabric of space while its branches held nine distinct worlds.

The three gods had originally planned to form eight, but a group of escaped giants secretly established a ninth realm named Jotunheim.

What only Aaric and the observers from the Lux Aeternum Court could see was the tree’s roots reaching out to connect with Chrysaxis, bridging the pantheons and intertwining their powers forever.

| Four days before the third task of the tournament |

Amelia Bones remained buried in her work. She had been diligently verifying all the evidence Sirius Black had provided against Dolores Umbridge and several other dark wizards.

She had started with the most repulsive entries in the file, and even with her hardened stomach, the skeletons she exhumed, metaphorical and real made her want to take justice into her own hands.

Edgar had to physically hold her back when she attempted to leave the office to send a blasting curse or two in the toad’s direction.

She sent copies of the evidence to the heads of the Hawthorne, Longbottom, Greengrass, Ogden, and Marchbanks houses in total secrecy, following the exact advice Sirius had given her.

She had expected their support, but the scale of their cooperation astonished her. Anything she required was provided instantly.

No door remained closed to her when backed by the influence of those families, especially with the sheer political power the Hawthorne name commanded.

Griselda Marchbanks and Tiberius Ogden, senior members of their respective houses and the Wizengamot, personally assisted her and threw the full weight of their influence behind her department to help her investigation.

With that level of backing, she verified every piece of information with absolute secrecy, ensuring no stone was left unturned.

At present, however, she was facing the most frustrating part of the process. She was trying to secure permission from the Minister of Magic to initiate a formal trial.

The Minister was having none of it, as he was far too occupied with protecting his own reputation to allow such a public scandal.

Amelia gripped the armrest of her leather chair, battling a fierce urge to hex the fool sitting across from her.

“How could you raise such accusations against a good woman like Dolores? How can you not recognize all she has done for magical Britain?” Fudge babbled, shaking his head in stubborn denial.

‘This incompetent fool.’ Amelia thought with a heavy sigh. She was just about to lose the battle with her own temper when she noticed a figure stepping out of a shadow directly behind Fudge.

Another figure followed close behind. Her mouth fell agape as Simon Hawthorne and his massive wolf exited the darkness and stood silently behind the still babbling Minister.

“Good to see you, Minister,” Simon interrupted, his voice cutting clearly through the air.

Fudge let out a startled squeak and nearly jumped out of his seat.

“Ah! Lord Hawthorne,” Fudge greeted as he scrambled to turn around. “I-I must say, your entrance was rather surprising,” he added with a stutter.

Simon turned to Amelia and greeted her with a respectful nod before turning his attention back to the Minister.

“I recognize that my manners may seem poor. However, the matter at hand is urgent, so please excuse the intrusion,” Simon said, taking an empty seat beside Fudge with effortless grace.

“I received the files you sent me, Madam Bones. I must admit, they contain truly chilling contents.”

Simon spoke as if he had only just received the evidence. He then looked at Fudge as if the next step was a foregone conclusion.

“When exactly will the trial be held?” Simon asked.

“There will be no trial, my Lord,” Fudge said, his voice reaching a higher, more frantic pitch.

Simon raised an eyebrow and shot a silent question toward Amelia. The woman understood her role perfectly and sighed as if in total defeat.

“The Minister has refused to even entertain the evidence my department has compiled,” she said, shaking her head slowly.

“Because there is no need to,” Fudge interjected with exasperation. “Dolores is a boon for magical Britain and nothing else.”

“Minister,” Simon said, leaning in closer to get the man’s full attention. “I strongly request that you take a look at the evidence before making a final judgment. Do it for the sake of our friendship.”

Volkrin let out a low, vibrating growl from beside Amelia, adding a sharp edge of intimidation to Simon’s request.

“Fine,” Fudge muttered. He picked up the file resting in front of him and began skimming through the pages with clear disinterest.

He paused suddenly at a photograph. A deep grimace formed on his face before he turned his eyes to the report accompanying the image. He was about to set the file back down in sheer disgust, but Simon stopped him.

“Keep going,” Simon urged, gesturing toward the next page.

Fudge looked as though he wanted to refuse, but the cold look in Simon’s eyes compelled him to read further. He flipped to the next page, starting with the graphic picture before moving to the text.

“Is this…” Fudge trailed off.

“True? Yes,” Amelia answered firmly.

“This is…”

“Horrid? Tell me about it,” she countered.

“How can we be…”

“Sure? Well, that is exactly what a trial is for,” she finished smoothly.

The back and forth exchange ended with the Minister burying his head in his hands in a state of absolute despair.

“I cannot do this. If she turns out to be guilty, it will utterly ruin my name,” Fudge muttered, shaking his head frantically.

“It will not,” Simon lied smoothly, waving a hand as if dismissing the concern entirely.

“Quite the opposite, in fact. You will be seen as the man who brought justice to one of the vilest individuals in magical history.”

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep