[Dawn Potion Formula Mastered]
[Pseudo-Dawn Potion Successfully Created]
[Pseudo-Dawn Potion: Mental Power +10%, Total Magic Power +40%, Magic Control +30%, Overall Magical Talent Rank +1]
[Note: The above attributes represent the theoretical maximum effect of the Pseudo-Dawn Potion. Actual effects will be reduced depending on the drinker's strength level.]
[Note: The Pseudo-Dawn Potion is ineffective on Legendary-level wizards!]
After studying the black text floating across his vision for a while, Link nodded in satisfaction.
Although this batch of Pseudo-Dawn Potion was ineffective on Legendary-level wizards, and the most important effect, increasing magic affinity rank, had disappeared completely, overall, Link was already satisfied.
After all, the increase to overall magical talent rank remained, didn't it?
That was the whole reason Link had created the Pseudo-Dawn Potion.
This talent increase effect actually came from the effect of his title, Honest, Loyal, Truthful, and Unafraid of Hardship.
Compared to that effect, increases in mental power and total magic power were hardly worth mentioning.
Of course, that didn't mean those increases weren't important.
Having them was still better than not.
The only issue was the reduction effect, which still needed testing.
With that thought, Link bottled all the potion from the cauldron. After obtaining thirteen finished bottles of Pseudo-Dawn Potion, he lightly waved his wand, and the basement door slowly opened.
"Newland, Sigefin, come in."
Hearing Link's call, the two immediately appeared at the doorway.
"Boss, what's the matter?"
Newland spoke respectfully, though only on the surface.
Link could clearly tell that while speaking, Newland's eyes never left the pile of Pseudo-Dawn Potions.
Link didn't bother with formalities and simply beckoned.
"Come in. The potion's finished. I estimate the effects should be pretty good. You can try it first."
This was actually a rather excessive request.
Neither Newland nor Sigefin knew that Link had a system panel that allowed him to see a potion's effects in advance, so from their perspective, this was simply a human drug trial.
Yet neither of them hesitated.
Newland was even so excited that he ran forward like a child, grabbed a bottle, and poured it straight into his mouth.
Heavens knew he was someone who loved excitement.
The victory celebration currently being held at the Ministry of Magic had an almost fatal attraction for him.
The only reason he had resisted the urge to join the celebration and remained at Flamel Castle as a guard was to get first access to the Pseudo-Dawn Potion.
After all, Link had already said at the International Confederation of Wizards that the first batch of Pseudo-Dawn Potions would use only the finest ingredients to ensure success.
An opportunity like this came once in a lifetime.
As for whether Link's imitation Dawn Potion might have side effects?
Neither Newland nor Sigefin had ever worried about that.
What a joke.
Link's plan to recreate the Pseudo-Dawn Potion had been discussed with Dumbledore.
If Link's potion-making skill wasn't good enough, Dumbledore definitely would have pointed it out.
So there was nothing to worry about.
On the other side, Sigefin's process of drinking the potion was much more solemn.
If Newland was a loach born in the mud, longing to reach the ocean and join the ranks of its rulers, then Sigefin was one of the first coelacanths to crawl onto land, hoping to fulfill his ideals there while proving something to those who remained in the sea.
The difference in mindset between the two was fundamental.
Newland longed for the upper-class life because he had never experienced it.
Sigefin had already experienced it all. What he pursued was, to some extent, a higher ideal: fulfilling his ambitions and proving himself.
But in another sense, they were the same.
For their ideals, both were willing to pay any price.
The Pseudo-Dawn Potion took effect very quickly.
Perhaps because the key ingredients had been replaced, Newland and Sigefin reacted differently from Link's earlier experience of falling asleep.
What they felt was pure cold.
The cold seeped into their organs and bones, making them want to tear open their chests and light a fire inside themselves for warmth.
Watching them scratch at their chests in agony, Link remained unmoved.
Taking the Pseudo-Dawn Potion was indeed painful, but the pain was far from enough to drive someone insane or kill them.
If Sigefin and Newland couldn't endure even this much pain, then they weren't worth investing in.
They might as well die.
And reality proved exactly that.
After nearly twenty minutes of struggle, Newland and Sigefin, both soaked in sweat, gradually calmed down.
Then a faint blue glow began to shine in their eyes.
This was a minor loss of control caused by a sudden surge in magic power.
The appearance of this phenomenon alone was enough to prove that the Pseudo-Dawn Potion had taken effect and significantly increased their magic power.
"How does it feel?"
Link sat up straighter and asked seriously.
"This feeling... it's... it's amazing!"
Newland panted heavily as he stared at his hands, unable to stop the grin spreading across his face.
But Link frowned.
What Newland said was complete nonsense.
Of course getting stronger felt amazing.
What Link wanted to know was the exact degree of enhancement.
Fortunately, Sigefin was much more composed.
Seeing this, he added, "I can feel increases in my mental power, total magic power, and magic control. The increase should be around ten to fifteen percent."
"There also seems to be improvement in other areas. I can't describe it exactly, but just like Newland said, it feels great."
"Wait! You only increased by ten to fifteen percent?" Newland said proudly. "My total magic power increased by more than twenty percent! That's way better than you!"
Sigefin said nothing.
He simply turned his head away and refused to look at Newland's punchable expression.
Link, meanwhile, looked at Newland as though he were an idiot.
"If I were you, I wouldn't be happy at all."
"Uh... why?"
"Because the effect of the Pseudo-Dawn Potion depends on the drinker's strength level." Link smacked his lips. "Take me, for example. This potion does absolutely nothing for me. As for you, the fact that your magic increased more than Sigefin's only proves that your total magic power was much lower than his."
Newland instantly froze.
The principle wasn't complicated.
The only reason he hadn't realized it was because he lacked experience and had been overwhelmed by the feeling of suddenly becoming stronger.
Only to end up making a fool of himself.
Especially in front of Sigefin.
Thinking that, Newland instinctively looked toward him.
Sigefin still had his head turned away, refusing eye contact.
But his constantly shaking shoulders were enough proof that he was struggling not to burst out laughing.
Embarrassed and angry, Newland let out a strange yell and jumped onto Sigefin's back.
The two immediately started wrestling.
Link wasn't annoyed by the sight.
Instead, he rubbed his chin and fell into thought.
Newland and Sigefin both possessed excellent magical talent to begin with.
After working under Link for so long and receiving every kind of resource and support, their strength had already reached the level of veteran Aurors.
Of course, that assessment included their mastery of rare magic and extensive combat experience.
Their normal levels of magic power and mental power were probably only around those of ordinary lower-tier Aurors.
The fact that the Pseudo-Dawn Potion produced this kind of effect on them meant it should achieve similar or even better results on most Aurors.
If so, perhaps it was time to consider mass production.
It wasn't a particularly reliable idea.
After all, the Pseudo-Dawn Potion currently existed only because of the effect of the title Honest, Loyal, Truthful, and Unafraid of Hardship.
That meant only Link could make it.
Mechanical or workshop-style mass production was impossible.
Cost was another major issue.
The ingredients used in this batch had cost around 5,000 Galleons.
That was already the discounted rate obtained through Krell as both the Flamel family's chief steward and the current head of Auror Command.
If they wanted to purchase ingredients in large quantities, ignoring personal connections and status, the price would probably more than double.
Then there was the possibility of failed brewing.
That meant the actual production cost of a bottle of Pseudo-Dawn Potion was roughly 770 Galleons.
Even so, Link ultimately decided to give it a try.
After all, the Pseudo-Dawn Potion was the first permanent enhancement potion he had ever been able to create.
With it, the military power under his control could be strengthened even further.
For Link, given the current situation, that was extremely important.
After gritting his teeth, Link finally decided to begin efforts toward mass production.
He immediately stopped Newland and Sigefin's horseplay.
They were given new tasks: purchase every ingredient related to the production of Pseudo-Dawn Potion available on the market.
In addition, they were to recruit members of the British Potioneers Guild under the authority of the British Ministry of Magic to conduct research into alternative ingredients and formulas.
Beyond that, Link personally wrote to Snape, who was still at Hogwarts, asking him to cooperate in researching the core stages of production.
As this series of orders left Flamel Castle, Old Barty and the others, who were attending the victory celebration at the Ministry of Magic, finally received the expansion order delivered by Percy.
In truth, while the victory Link and Dumbledore achieved at the International Confederation of Wizards lacked the excitement and glory of an actual war, its impact on British wizards far exceeded Link's expectations.
The headline in the Daily Prophet said it all:
"The Greatest Victory in More Than Four Hundred Years!"
For once, the Daily Prophet wasn't using clickbait.
In fact, the headline still failed to fully capture the excitement of Britain's wizarding population.
The British and French magical communities had been bitter enemies for centuries.
The reason traced back to the war over four hundred years ago: the Anglo-French Hundred Years' War.
Wizards had participated in that war as well.
Unlike the Muggle conflict, however, the British wizards had emerged victorious.
It was that victory that gradually established Britain's magical community as the strongest in the Western magical world.
They stood at the very peak.
But after reaching the peak came decline.
A rotten system allowed pure-blood nobles to endlessly seize benefits that once belonged to the Ministry of Magic.
Powerful families rose everywhere.
Every industry became monopolized and controlled.
The entire British magical community became filled with resentment.
Then Grindelwald rose to power.
During that period, because of Dumbledore, Grindelwald never carried out large-scale operations in Britain.
As a result, the British magical community suffered little real damage.
On the contrary, Britain's relative safety allowed it to absorb large numbers of refugees.
In a world where population was scarce, that was a major gain.
But because of Dumbledore, and because the British Ministry of Magic had become too rigid, when magical governments around the world united to hunt Grindelwald, Britain stood by and watched.
This disgusting behavior meant that even though Dumbledore later joined forces with the International Confederation of Wizards to defeat Grindelwald, every magical government only acknowledged Dumbledore's contribution, not Britain's.
From that point on, Britain became isolated.
Apart from limited commercial interactions, almost no one wanted anything to do with them politically.
When Fudge hosted the Quidditch World Cup Final, the Bulgarian Minister of Magic had dared to publicly humiliate him over the language barrier for exactly this reason.
To be honest, in the eyes of many foreign ministers, the British Ministry of Magic and Britain's magical community were garbage.
If Dumbledore hadn't been holding things together, they probably would have fallen into the ranks of third-rate organizations long ago.
Then came Voldemort's rise.
If Grindelwald had brought both benefits and harm, Voldemort was a true destroyer.
In just a few short years, the pure-blood noble class represented by Voldemort destroyed nearly a century of Britain's achievements.
Large numbers of people fled.
Social stratification became even worse.
Most importantly, the backbone of Britain's magical community was severed.
The talented young wizards of that era either fled or died.
Very few remained.
From then on, Britain's Ministry of Magic and magical community entered a state of complete decline.
If that had been the end of it, British wizards might still have accepted it.
After all, they might be struggling now, but they had once been prosperous.
Getting drunk together, bragging about the old days, and cursing the Ministry of Magic was enough to get by.
The problem was that during the last hundred years, the French magical community had risen.
After formally establishing their Ministry of Magic, they became the fashion capital and commercial center of the magical world through more open ideas, a stronger market, and generations of capable ministers.
That was unbearable for ordinary British wizards.
They could accept the rise of the American magical community.
The United States had once been Britain's colony, and although it had become powerful, it lacked historical foundations.
More importantly, it was far away.
Most British wizards would never even meet an American wizard.
But France was different.
They were neighbors.
And lifelong enemies.
Driven by the mentality that seeing an enemy get rich hurts more than losing money themselves, many British wizards wished they could start another Hundred Years' War and tear every French wizard to pieces.
And now, Link had fulfilled that desire.
Not only had he restored Britain's honor, he had also knocked the French magical community all the way back to 1790.
For ordinary British wizards, the satisfaction was overwhelming.
These days, Flamel Castle was one of the few quiet places left.
The Ministry of Magic and Hogwarts were both holding official celebrations.
The Leaky Cauldron was packed, and Tom the owner was so busy he barely had time to stand still, suffering and enjoying himself at the same time.
Diagon Alley behind it was packed with celebrating crowds.
People walked arm in arm, beer in hand, singing songs and turning the entire alley into a sea of joy.
Some had even gone into the Muggle world to cause trouble.
On this day alone, the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad received dozens of reports concerning violations of the Statute of Secrecy.
The special hotline of the Muggle Liaison Committee was nearly overwhelmed by calls from the British Muggle Prime Minister at Number 10 Downing Street.
But nobody cared.
Working overtime during a national celebration?
What kind of joke was that?
The Ministry itself was hosting a huge feast.
Who had time to work?
The entire Ministry of Magic had become an ocean of celebration.
Normally refined employees had become wilder than street thugs under the influence of alcohol and bonus payments.
Some were fighting.
Some were openly making out.
The elegant atmosphere of the celebration hall had been completely destroyed.
Old Barty and the senior officials had no intention of stopping them.
After all, ever since large numbers of Flamel family hunter teams had joined, the Ministry's traditions and etiquette had already become a mess.
A little more chaos didn't matter.
They had simply retreated to the inner hall and enjoyed their own celebrations among their close associates.
Now, however, that happiness disappeared with the expansion order Percy brought.
Military expansion required money.
Most of the wealth Link had obtained by dismantling the monopolies had already gone into commercial subsidies and military expansion.
Now that they had finally squeezed some benefits out of France, many officials had been excitedly discussing whether it might finally be the administrative departments' turn.
Instead, Link intended to pour the money right back into the military.
To these officials, that was like cutting flesh from their bodies.
Of course, the money itself wasn't the biggest issue.
The real problem was what military expansion represented.
War was coming.
Once war began, not only would opportunities for new profits disappear, but even their existing benefits might vanish in the reshuffling.
The inner hall instantly fell silent.
Even the self-playing orchestra stopped.
Everyone stared silently at Old Barty and Percy.
The expressions on both their faces were equally grim.
Since the Ministry's official reforms, their personal power had expanded rapidly.
Their own circles had grown into organizations resembling political factions.
This wasn't because they intended to betray Link or cause trouble.
At their positions, even if they had no ambitions, people beneath them would desperately gather around them.
The situation was inevitable.
Still, they welcomed it.
Power felt too good.
So good that neither Percy nor Old Barty wanted to let it go.
But if war broke out, those newly formed factions would be finished.
Given Link's personality, he might normally ignore their existence.
But at a critical moment like this, he would never allow anyone to interfere with his war plans.
Not only would the factions be destroyed, but Percy and Old Barty themselves might be implicated.
Neither of them wanted that.
Yet what could they do?
The two exchanged glances and both revealed bitter smiles.
This was, in the end, a world where strength ruled.
Link's power had grown so much that neither Percy nor Old Barty could truly understand it anymore.
The only way they could measure it was by comparing it to Dumbledore and treating them as roughly equal.
And unlike Dumbledore, who only wanted to quietly run Hogwarts, Link was more ambitious and far more ruthless.
They might have been able to stall Dumbledore.
They might even have used official procedures to limit him.
But Link?
They didn't dare.
Because Link would really kill people.
"So... let's carry it out."
Percy spoke first, testing the waters as he looked at Old Barty.
Old Barty sighed and nodded.
He then issued the order to the anxious officials gathered in the inner hall.
Though unhappy, the enormous Ministry of Magic still sprang into motion at full speed.
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