Infinite Chimera Creation

The second characteristic of God is that mortals need to offer sacrifices to the gods in order to receive their grace.

Seemingly sensing that her intelligence had been questioned, Blanche glared at Stuart with displeasure.

"Oh yes, God does have these characteristics, but what does that have to do with the following experiment?"

Stuart sighed and secured Thestral to the lab table with a leather strap. Thestral remained silent throughout the process, appearing remarkably docile.

"I thought you could be a little smarter, senior."

"Smart? What do you mean? Am I stupid? Gods can't be seen, can't be heard, and need sacrifices and Thestrals... What do they have to do with that...?"

Suddenly, Blanche covered her mouth, staring at Stuart in disbelief.

"Oh my god, that's not cleverness, that's wishful thinking, a baseless conjecture."

Ignoring the visibly panicked Blanche, Stuart focused intently on cutting open the skin of the Thestral's left hind hoof, revealing the black bone.

"Calm down, senior. Have you forgotten what you said yourself? Those things are not gods, but just powerful beings that have been given the name of gods. They are not omniscient or omnipotent. So, it's not surprising that Thestrals have some characteristics of gods. He has just inherited the bloodline of those beings."

As if he hadn't heard Stuart's words, Blanche muttered something strangely.

"The face of the gods is unseen by mortals, and ordinary people cannot see the Thestrals; the voice of the gods is inaudible to mortals, and the Thestrals will not make a sound even when walking on stone paths; the gods need sacrifices to bestow their blessings, so people slaughter livestock before the altar, and even use humans as human sacrifices, and the Thestrals can only be seen by those who have witnessed death."

Blanche looked up abruptly, staring at Stuart with excitement, her face full of fervor.

"So, the Thestrals are descendants of gods, Stuart? Are you trying to create a god?"

While Blanche was already bewildered, Stuart had already removed all the bones from Thestral's limbs intact, and in the process, Thestral hadn't bled at all. He calmly met those fanatical eyes.

"No need for such fanaticism. Like I said, what I created are merely some kind of life forms bearing the name 'God.' They may be powerful, but they're not necessarily more advanced than my previous experiments. Alright, now help me move that dead werewolf over here. Don't use the levitation spell, just move it by hand. It'll help you calm down. You're getting too excited today; is it some kind of back-to-school euphoria?"

She glared fiercely at the culprit who had caused her mental exhaustion and erratic behavior these past few days, forcing herself to calm down before laboriously lifting the werewolf corpse. The strong stench of blood emanating from the werewolf didn't make her frown; instead, it calmed her heart.

Yes, even the werewolf, who was once regarded as a demon under the full moon and caused much fear, could be easily killed by him. He is just a descendant of a god, what's so strange about him?

Blanche threw the corpse heavily onto the experimental table. She saw Stuart remove all the bones from the Thestral except for its wings and head. She was curious, but before she could ask, Stuart turned around, put down the half-dissected Thestral, and quickly removed the werewolf's heart.

When Stuart removed the heart, Blanche realized that although the werewolf was dead, his heart was still trembling slightly after it was removed, as if it would start beating again at any moment.

Without a moment's delay, Stuart swiftly replaced the Thestral's original heart with a werewolf's. For this heart, Stuart had been lacing the werewolf's rats with drugs throughout his vacation. There were two types of drugs: one to stimulate bone marrow hematopoiesis, enough to completely drain the werewolf's bone marrow potential in a single vacation; the other to concentrate all the werewolf's blood in the heart area.

Now, under the influence of the two drugs, the werewolf's heart is filled with blood so thick that it cannot drip out.

After the heart transplant, Stuart's movements noticeably quickened. He washed the extracted Thestral bones in a pure black liquid before reassembling them. However, after the reassembly, many extra bones remained, and the reassembled skeleton within the Thestral was clearly different from the original. More like a human skeleton than a horse's, with only subtle differences in areas like the hindquarters.

After placing the modified skeleton back into the Thestral's body, Stuart did not stitch up the wound. Instead, he applied a silver-blue potion to it. The potion acted like glue, firmly adhering to the wound. After completing this process, Stuart pointed his wand at the roof, and instantly the roof split open on both sides, letting in a blinding white moonlight into the laboratory.

Seeing the suddenly appearing skylight, Blanche paused for a moment, then remembered that she was underground in the Forbidden Forest, not in the castle; seeing the moon through the roof was normal. However, wasn't she afraid of the keykeeper discovering such a blatant skylight in the Forbidden Forest, or some other animal getting in?

“Papie is watching from above. With her around, no creature can approach here undetected. And if any animal tries to get close, Papy will tell West, and West will kill any creature that tries to approach.”

Noticing Blanche's confusion, Stuart pushed up his glasses and explained in a cold voice, his smile vanishing.

Stuart retrieved the previously used potion and carefully wiped the Thestral's body with it before speaking again.

"The Thestrals can see souls, and only those who have witnessed death can see their appearance; these are clearly characteristics of the gods of the underworld."

Although this Thestral does indeed possess the bloodline of a god of the underworld, the magical power required to resurrect a god of the underworld through ancestral regeneration is unimaginably vast. Since it's impossible to replicate an existing god of the underworld, I'll create one myself. Now, let me see if my idea is correct.”

As the potion was applied to the last corner of Thestral's body, Stuart abruptly retreated. Thestral's body began to tremble at that instant. Previously, due to the altered skeletal structure, his flesh and bones were not tightly connected, but with the deep thumping of his heart, his muscles instantly contracted, clinging tightly to the dark bones. In a mere instant, he transformed into a dragon-headed, human-bodied, bat-winged form.

"Tonight is a full moon."

As if in a lament, Stuart looked up at the full moon in the sky and uttered a strange sigh. And these words, like a spell that creates distortion, caused the change to begin the moment they landed.

The Thestral's emaciated body suddenly became strong, its muscles pulsating in the moonlight. Then, the monster, which no longer resembled a Thestral, suddenly exerted its strength, broke free of its restraints, stood on its two legs, raised its head on the experimental table, and let out a long howl towards the full moon. The howl was like a dragon's roar or a wolf's howl, shrill and eerie, as if it were a call from hell.

The magic of the full moon altered his body. Finally, after a long time, the changes happening to the monster ceased. His appearance stabilized. In the pale moonlight, his figure was incredibly clear: a wolf's head, a human body, human hands, wolf's paws, and the pair of bat wings on his back that had grown even larger. His figure, with his back to the full moon, gently fluttering his wings and floating in the air, evoked images of demons from hell and Anubis, the gatekeeper of hell. At this moment, their figures seemed to merge into one, exuding an aura of majesty, solemnity, deathly stillness, and danger.

"Welcome to your birth, my child. From today onwards, your name is Maurice."

Pushing up his glasses, Stuart set the first thing to prove the existence of this newborn life.

PS1, no matter how I revised it, I couldn't write the scene I envisioned. I always felt that this child, who had the appearance and bloodline of a god of the underworld and might eventually become a god of the underworld, was born in such a hasty manner, like a premature baby. It's a bit of a pity.

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Chapter 41 Insects

Recently, a feeling of unease began to brew in Stuart's heart. His swift resolution of the World Serpent's bloodline issue led him to believe that the matter of the magic source would soon be resolved as well. However, the world slapped him hard on the right cheek, reminding him that his repeated successes had blinded him, making his view of the problem overly idealistic. Two years after graduating from Hogwarts, he still hadn't found a magic source strong enough to support the existence of a powerful being.

But Stuart's frustration stemmed from more than just this; another factor was the course of history. When Stuart first met Voldemort, he found him far calmer and more rational than in the original stories, showing no signs of mental instability caused by the mass production of Horcruxes. Stuart initially believed that history had changed and Voldemort would no longer become the legendary killer.

But the world slapped him hard on the left cheek again, telling him that the script written by the world is not so easily changed. Voldemort did not, due to his mental breakdown, create widespread terror and slaughter Muggles. But his principles remained unchanged; he still insisted on pure-blood magic, still believed that power was absolute, and still chose to reform and rebuild a wizarding world that suited his vision through war.

Having chosen war, Voldemort, a Slytherin native, naturally wouldn't confront the Ministry of Magic head-on like a mindless lion. Instead, he used every ruthless tactic imaginable, committing murders of entire families no less than in the original stories. With the corpses of countless wizards, Voldemort once again transformed his name into an unspeakable terror.

Aside from minor changes like Voldemort's personality, everything else remains the same as in the original story. Death Eaters have become a source of fear, giants and werewolves have appeared on the battlefield, Dementors roam the shadowy corners, the Order of the Phoenix is ​​still in existence, and Jaime and others have still joined it.

This similarity to the original story is precisely what frustrates Stuart. In the books, Voldemort dies three years after James graduates, but James has already graduated two years ago, meaning Voldemort likely only has less than a year left to live. Voldemort plays a crucial role in Stuart's plans; if he dies, while it won't affect Stuart's reincarnation as the World Serpent, his subsequent plans will practically be rendered useless.

Stuart doesn't acknowledge that the madman resurrected by the Horcrux is Voldemort.

While Stuart was feeling agitated, another person wasn't in much better spirits.

"Damn it! I didn't send you to assassinate Dumbledore, nor did I send you to attack the Ministry of Magic headquarters. I just sent you to find someone! But it's been two years, two years! And you still haven't found anything! You're not homeless people on the street, you're Death Eaters, why can't you even do such a small thing!"

Voldemort angrily brandished his wand, blasting all the valuable antiques in the room to shreds. As the shards flew, they cut the exposed skin of some Death Eaters, but they dared not flinch. The Death Eaters all knew why their master was so furious: Lady Hydra was growing increasingly weak.

Miss Hydra was obtained by the master from a mysterious person several years ago; at that time, she was still a magical blue egg. To hatch her, the master did not allow any Death Eaters to interfere, and he himself used the Unforgivable Curse for three consecutive days, nearly exhausting himself, before she crawled out of the chaos. Every Death Eater could never forget the look of surprise on the master's face when he saw Miss Hydra's seven heads.

For so many years, Miss Hydra had stayed by her master's side. Every Death Eater had seen how much her master loved her. She had even replaced Miss Nagini as her master's favorite pet. But two years ago, Miss Hydra began to weaken uncontrollably. She grew weaker day by day, her beautiful scales gradually became dull and lifeless, her eyes gradually became dim, and recently she had even started to have irregular, prolonged sleep patterns.

When Miss Hydra first fell ill, the Master ordered all Death Eaters to search for the mysterious figure. However, two years have passed, and there is still no news of him. The Master has become increasingly irritable, and the power he displays in his anger only instills greater awe in the Death Eaters.

"Master, perhaps I can provide some useful information."

Lucius Malfoy hesitated for a long time before finally standing up. He bowed his head respectfully, not daring to look into his raging master's eyes, for that would fill him with a fear that seeped into his very bones.

"Say!"

Voldemort suddenly turned around and stared intently at Lucius. His terrifying gaze sent a shiver down Lucius's spine.

“A few days ago, when we were fighting the Order of the Phoenix, I used a killing curse on James Potter. Because the scene was chaotic and my attack was very well concealed, he didn’t notice my attack at all. My attack should have killed him instantly, but the white bird that had been perched on his shoulder blocked my killing curse with its wings.”

Yes, the bird withstood the Death Curse unscathed. Aside from Miss Hydra, I've never seen anything that could defend against the Death Curse, so I think the bird and Miss Hydra might be from the same person. James Potter might know that mysterious figure.

No matter how intense the emotions, one must remain calm when thinking about problems and making decisions. This is a quality a qualified leader should possess, and Voldemort was clearly a qualified leader. He rubbed his wand with his thumb, narrowed his eyes, and looked through the wall, his gaze unreadable.

"Potter? Is that the lion who's been so active lately? I remember him. He's as foolish as his predecessors, but not as reckless. Yes, he's cautious. Even when I personally intervened last time, I couldn't kill him. I originally thought of him as an interesting bug, but now it seems his importance is greater than I imagined."

But that bug is clever and cautious; even I, Voldemort, haven't had a chance to catch it. So, what ideas do you have for me to catch it?

Although Voldemort's gaze did not fall on the Death Eaters, cold sweat still soaked their clothes. They knew that if they couldn't come up with a feasible solution at this moment, what awaited them was a gruesome ordeal.

As the Death Eaters pondered and tried to find a feasible method, a man stood up from among them. His gaze, passing through greasy black hair, landed on Voldemort's toes, and he spoke softly.

“Master, I have a way to help you catch that insect, but it requires your personal intervention.”

When he spoke of insects, his tone revealed intense hatred.

PS1, thanks to the following for their donations: 劣者, 冷静的冰, and 爱病病de倒霉蛋.

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Chapter 42 Fear and Friends

Peter leaned against the lamppost, his face pale, his body trembling from the lingering pain. He clutched his chest tightly, as if his heart would vanish at any moment if he didn't.

The terrifying voice continued to echo in his buzzing head: "[The Cruciatus Curse] [I heard that when you were at Hogwarts, you became very bold because James Potter was backing you up. Now it seems you're still that little rascal.] [I want you to bring James Potter to me.] [If you succeed, the merciful Dark Lord will allow you to join our ranks.]"

"Terrifying, it's absolutely terrifying! We've been fighting this monster the whole time. It's so scary, and I really want to do what he says. But..."

A ferocious grin stretched across Peter's pale face, like that of a wild beast about to die, and he let out a low growl.

"Even the Dark Lord cannot underestimate me!! Peter Pederu is the Gryffindor Lion, how could he betray his friend out of fear!!! James Potter is Peter Pederu's forever friend!! We will never betray each other!!! Dark Lord! You've miscalculated!!"

Staggering to his feet, Peter rubbed his face hard, trying to smooth away the ferocious expression.

"Now, it's time to go see James. It's a pity I was originally planning to see if James' son was as handsome as him. Now it seems there's no hope."

In the cold night wind, the faint sound didn't travel far before it dissipated; apart from its owner, no one else heard the sound that seemed to be crying.

A road that was once very familiar can feel strange when walked again with different feelings. Peter knew the way to James's house very well, but walking it again felt like the first time, and he carefully looked at every item along the way.

"Oh, I remember this alley. It was here that Sirius gave that nasty Muggle a good scare with his Animagus."

“Oh yes, I remember this lawn too. That summer, right here, James tried to use itching powder on that skinny cat, but the wind blew it all over him, and he rolled around on the ground itching.”

"Oh, right, I'm the one playing the prank here. I used a Disillusionment Charm on that Muggle old lady who always insults us."

"Here, ha, it's James again..."

"This is Remus, that unlucky guy..."

……

"This is James's home. It holds nine years of happy memories for us. How could we let anyone destroy such an important place?"

With a soft chuckle, Peter pressed the doorbell in front of him.

"I solemnly swear."

Hearing the alert voice from inside the door, Peter burst out laughing.

“I’ve been up to no good, James. We need to change the password. We don’t have time for pranks right now.”

The door burst open, and James, laughing, gave Peter a big hug.

“I’m not going to change this password. I can’t help but laugh when I think of Dumbledore or Stuart saying ‘I’ve done something wrong.’”

“Listen, James, Stuart will not let you have your way. He will just blow your door open. Now, let me in. This damn weather is freezing.”

James pulled Peter into the house, his face beaming with an undisguised smile, the happiness in his eyes shining through even the glasses on his nose.

"Peter, I'm going to be a father! Lily's pregnant!"

Peter froze on the spot, then excitedly grabbed James's hand, pulling him so hard he almost fell.

"Are you going to be a dad? Boy or girl? Will he look like you or Lily? Will he wear glasses too? Will he be tall? What if he's taller than me?"

James, who nearly fell, wasn't angry; he just gave Peter a wry smile and shook his shoulder.

"Hey, wake up, Peter. Lily is only newly pregnant. Your questions are a bit too advanced for her."