The Witcher: Ascending Beyond Marvel

Read 15 Chapters ahead on Patreon

https://Patreon.com/rez540

Also checkout my other works :) pls

--------------

For the remainder of the school year, Wes buried himself in Nicolas Flamel's alchemy notes, immersing himself in the intricate theories and forbidden secrets that few dared to touch.

If he had a panel tracking his proficiency, it would likely be flashing nonstop with notifications like:

"Alchemy +1""Alchemy +1"

"Alchemy +10086"

The end of the semester arrived like an approaching storm. Professors rushed to finalize their coursework, students scrambled to complete assignments, and the air in Hogwarts grew tense with anticipation.

Even Wes, usually known for his leniency, began assigning homework after every class. Naturally, this led to complaints.

"Professor Wes, this is too much!"

"Do you want us to fail all our other subjects?"

"I thought you were the nice professor!"

Wes remained unfazed. His personal assessments depended on student performance, and he wasn't about to risk his standing for the sake of a few complaints. The Hogwarts library was vast, and he had barely scratched its surface. If he was expelled for underperformance, it would be a tremendous loss.

As for the original plot of this world—Wes had long discarded any attachment to it.

---

When the final moment arrived, Wes was genuinely surprised.

Not a single student in his Magic Rune class received a failing grade—there were no P (Poor) or D (Dreadful) marks in sight. More impressively, a handful of students even secured O (Outstanding).

"I expected this old elective course to be overlooked, but it seems the students took it seriously after all," Wes mused, leaning back in his chair as he skimmed through the results.

With exams concluded, students eagerly left the castle, their laughter echoing through the halls as they embarked on their summer vacations. Professors, too, departed one by one, their responsibilities temporarily lifted.

The once-bustling Hogwarts now stood eerily quiet, its magical vibrance fading into the stillness of empty corridors.

But for Wes, this was not an end.

It was the beginning of something far greater.

A strange text had suddenly appeared in his panel's world column:

"#@Alchemy%￥".

A flicker of curiosity crossed his expression.

"A coincidence? Or… is this because of the Philosopher's Stone?"

Before he could dwell on the thought further, his body vanished into thin air.

---

In the heart of New York City, where skyscrapers stretched toward the heavens and the streets buzzed with life, a peculiar potion shop stood quietly at the edge of the mundane world.

Its name?

Hogwarts.

Wes materialized inside, a rare grin creeping onto his face.

"Great harvest, great harvest!"

Excitement flickered in his eyes as he surveyed the fruits of his journey.

A mountain of gleaming gold bars stacked high.

Philosopher's Stones pulsing with an ominous, mesmerizing red light.

Countless alchemy notes brimming with knowledge unseen by the modern world.

"I never expected to witness the fusion of 'homunculi' and 'truth' firsthand," he muttered, a shadow passing over his expression.

"I was nearly swallowed by 'Truth' back there."

The alchemy of "#@Alchemy%￥" was vastly different from the alchemy of the Harry Potter world. And this revelation had given Wes insights that transcended both.

After meticulously organizing his laboratories and warehouses, he made a decision.

"These potions are useless to me now. Sell them all."

His gaze lingered on the mountain of gold before him.

"I suppose I can finally call myself rich."

As dawn approached, Wes methodically lifted the Muggle-Repelling Charm and Confundus Charm.

With a quiet click, the doors of Hogwarts Potion Shop reopened.

---

Word spread swiftly among New York's elite.

For an entire year, the exclusive clientele of Hogwarts Potion Shop had been deprived of their magical elixirs. The moment they heard Wes had returned, they swarmed in, desperate to replenish their stock.

What followed was an intense, almost ruthless auction.

Every bottle was snatched up at staggering prices.

Rare potions disappeared in the blink of an eye.

Even elixirs Wes considered ordinary sold for sums that would make any Muggle economist weep.

In just two hours, his entire inventory was cleared.

But while the satisfied customers departed, one man remained behind.

Tony Stark.

----

With a bottle of wine in hand, Tony approached Wes, his usual confident smirk present but not as sharp as before.

"Care for a drink?" His tone was casual, yet there was a weight behind it.

Wes didn't respond immediately. He simply studied Stark with a cold gaze.

"Mr. or Ms. Magician, don't look at me like that."

Tony Stark chuckled, unfazed.

"You broke the rules," Wes finally said, voice steady.

Tony Stark took a slow sip of his wine before answering.

"So what? You gonna kill me?" He waved his hand dismissively. "Up to you."

Then, scanning the shop, he mused aloud,

"Where are the glasses? Or do you prefer drinking straight from the bottle?"

Wes arched an eyebrow, flicked his wrist, and conjured two elegant wine glasses.

Tony let out a dramatic "Wow!" before taking a seat.

The glasses were soon filled with rich, velvety wine.

"This bottle cost me a solid three million dollars," Tony remarked before downing his drink in one go.

But he wasn't drinking for pleasure—he was drinking to drown something.

Three glasses later, his face flushed, and he finally spoke the truth.

"You know… I'm dying."

He unbuttoned his shirt slightly, revealing the glowing arc reactor embedded in his chest.

"Isn't it ironic? The thing keeping me alive is also killing me."

Wes remained silent for a moment.

"So the plot has reached this point," he thought.

Stark continued talking—about everything. His fears, his regrets, the crushing weight of expectations.

By the time he was done, he exhaled deeply, as if he had finally let go of something weighing on his heart.

"It feels good, actually. Telling all this to someone who doesn't even have a name. I don't know if you're a man or a woman, but… thanks for listening."

Wes studied him before finally speaking.

"Are you really going to die?"

"Yeah," Tony said, shrugging.

Wes reached into his coat and pulled out a potion, tossing it over.

Stark caught it, eyeing the mysterious liquid inside.

"What is this?"

"A test," Wes replied. "A newly developed potion. It contains a lot of vitality, but the side effects are unclear."

Stark raised an eyebrow.

"I'm dying from palladium poisoning, not a common flu."

Still, after a moment of hesitation, he smirked.

"Ah, screw it. Might as well try."

He waved lazily and turned to leave.

"Anyway, thanks for listening. If I survive, I'll let you know how it went."

---

As Wes closed the shop and turned around—

A bald woman in golden robes was seated quietly in his chair.

His heart skipped a beat, but he quickly composed himself.

Removing his mask, Wes bowed respectfully.

"Greetings, Supreme Sorcerer."

The Ancient One smiled softly.

"Hello, Irwin ."

-----------

Note: This story is quite fast-paced and it could, at times feel like it's jumping from place to place way too fast...