Dumblemdore Family: Wizarding Witch World

Two months later, within the Ghost Plane, a critical operation was underway to extract its core. As a realm of darkness, the Ghost Plane had only one purpose: to corrupt other worlds into the same twisted existence. Unfortunately, maintaining the Ghost Plane for any purpose—be it training or resource gathering—was not viable. This was a High Plane, teeming with an unrelenting force of Ghost Autarchs.

To counter this, in addition to regular wizards, four Wizard Autarchs and three Titan Autarchs were dispatched. While the real battlefield raged along the borders of the Titan Plane, the Wizarding World and the Titan Plane launched this covert operation.

There were no tricks or illusions—disguising oneself as a ghost? Laughable. The wizard battalion planted the Planar Core Harvester, and their sole task was to protect it until the extraction was complete. Meanwhile, the Wizard Autarchs engaged the Ghost Autarchs in a titanic clash. As the lower-ranked wizards battled the ghostly hordes, Alvo and Henry served as their ultimate cleanup force.

Their immense power was a trump card. The ghost forces were lured closer and closer by the wizards, only to be obliterated by Alvo's 400-meter wave of pure light, erasing them from existence. This strategy minimized wizard casualties. Henry played a critical role in countering the chaotic dark laws that threatened to infect and kill their forces. With his vast healing field, he managed to operate as an elegant, mobile hospital.

Just as the operation was nearing completion, a Ghost Autarch who had been absent from the plane returned, launching a devastating attack on the massive magical drill. Many wizards perished in the assault. However, before the Autarch could wreak further havoc, a Titan Autarch crushed him beyond existence.

Despite this, the operation descended into chaos. Alvo and Henry managed to save 50 surviving wizards, retreating with their lives. The original plan had failed, leaving them no choice but to improvise.

As they regrouped, Alvo felt the weight of the situation intensify. Things were becoming deadly serious.

Alvo stood with three surviving members of the engineering team, all of them staring at the holographic simulator before them. After the devastating attack, they had retreated miles away and established an underground base, buried 100 meters beneath the surface. The group now focused on planning their next move. To secure the resources for this holographic conductor, Alvo had taken a considerable risk, returning to the site of the drill to assess the damage and collect vital data.

"Sir Alvo," one of the engineers began, his voice heavy with resignation, "the drill is in a dire state. Beyond the physical damage, the tip is infected with the Law of Corrosion, inflicted by an Autarch. I'm afraid it would take at least five years to repair it under normal circumstances. With the Autarchs still engaged and us cut off from communication, there's no way to remove the Law of Corrosion effectively."

Alvo had anticipated the worst and sighed deeply as the reality of their predicament sank in. He turned his gaze to the miniature board before him. Since arriving in the Ghost Plane, he had used this board as a meditative tool, overlaying his Laws to simulate serene waves. It had become his calming pastime amidst the chaos.

The Ghost Plane was aptly described in simple terms: cold and cruel. Weak-willed wizards had no place here. Without an unshakable resolve, one risked being consumed by fear, losing their will entirely. As a High Plane, the Ghost Plane seemed to possess an innate defense mechanism—a self-sustaining cycle that fed on the weak to maintain its integrity.

Reflecting on this, Alvo couldn't help but ponder the peculiar nature of the plane. It wasn't merely a realm of darkness; it was a test, a crucible that sought to break those unworthy of its challenges. And now, with their resources and communication severed, it was a challenge they would have to meet head-on.

Alvo stood silent for a moment, the weight of the decision visible in his expression. Finally, he spoke, his tone calm but firm.

"If we can't reuse the drill, then we have only one option left—we must head to the core of the Plane ourselves."

The moment those words left his lips, a chill spread through the room. Cold sweat formed on the brows of the wizards around him, each understanding the gravity of such a mission. It was nothing short of suicidal.

Alvo continued, his gaze unwavering, "During the time it takes to plan this, we will make every effort to contact any allied Autarchs or wizards. We'll ask for their help in removing the Autarch stationed in defiance at the entrance to the core. Once we reach the core, we'll perform a shamanic ritual to disperse the power of the Plane across the vastness of the universe. From there, we will execute a Grand Spatial Leap. Where will we land? That, my friends, will depend on whether the World Will still protects us."

One of the Level 3 wizards nearby shifted uneasily and spoke up. "Sir, a Grand Spatial Leap... it could send us anywhere. Who knows when—or if—we could ever return to the central region?"

Alvo nodded, his voice steady. "I understand the risks, but we have no choice. Look around. The Level 2 wizards are already succumbing to the creeping insanity. The passive defenses of this Plane are too strong. The longer we stay, the worse it will become."

Turning to Henry, Alvo gave the next command. "Henry, plant a tracking seed in each of the fifty survivors here. The plan is as follows: if the Leap separates us into different locations, Henry will be responsible for reuniting us. Should we land in a low-tier Plane, avoid causing chaos to prevent disturbing the World Will. If we land in a high-tier Plane, use shamanic techniques to clone someone's Will into a miniature doll, so the Plane doesn't track us."

He paused, letting his words sink in. "Once we regroup, I will activate my Autarch Mark. From there, we hope someone allied will find us. Is everyone clear?"

The room fell silent for a moment before a chorus of affirmations broke out. Alvo's piercing gaze swept across the group as he gave his final instructions.

"Good. Begin immediately. I want teams securing the perimeter above. If you encounter ghosts and can handle them, do so. If not, activate the seed's mark, and Henry will retrieve you. During this process, our objective is to locate an Autarch while we move closer to the core. Dismissed."

The group exchanged looks of determination. They might have feared the plan, but Alvo's composed leadership gave them a semblance of confidence. Each wizard departed to their task, understanding that their survival—and the mission's success—now depended on absolute execution of the plan.

One year later, after painstakingly mapping the route to the Plane's entrance and decimating countless hordes of ghosts, the group of fifty had dwindled to thirty. Today, however, their perseverance bore fruit—they had located a Titan Autarch willing to aid them. Together, they devised a daring plan. The Titan Autarch would confront the Ghost Autarch guarding the core, expel them, and leave behind a clone infused with a faint trace of his power. This would deceive the Plane's World Will into believing an Autarch remained in place, ensuring the operation could proceed undisturbed.

As the group gathered around, the Titan Autarch regarded them solemnly. He sighed deeply and spoke with a voice imbued with both wisdom and sorrow. "Little ones, what you are about to undertake shows immense bravery. It also demonstrates that in the future, the Wizarding World and the Titans will be great allies."

His gaze fell upon Alvo, and a kind smile spread across his massive face. "Little one, take this—my blood essence. It will aid you in breaking through to Level 4 and increase your chances of success. Unfortunately, I can offer you nothing more reliable than my own mark to track you. But know this: the moment your Ancestral Mark is discovered, the Titan race will mobilize an overwhelming force to find and protect you. This is the word of an Autarch, and I call upon my Will as witness. Let it be known to the Titan Plane that you have ensured the future of our race."

The Autarch then knelt, a monumental act that sent a ripple of awe through the survivors. When he spoke again, it was no longer his voice but that of the Titan Plane itself—a high, melodic tone that resonated with ancient power.

"Thank you, little ones. We will be eternally grateful."

The group stood silent, the weight of the moment sinking in. Alvo looked around at the scattered survivors, their faces marked by determination and exhaustion. With a firm voice, he declared, "Then let the Planar Cleansing Operation begin."

As the Titan Autarch rose to his full height, the group prepared for the mission ahead, their hearts steeled for the challenges yet to come.

Near the planar entrance, just a few kilometers away, the Titan Autarch unleashed a devastating attack. From within the fissure emerged a massive Ghost Autarch—a grotesque gray mass that shifted between various forms. The two titanic beings clashed and quickly moved their battle into the distance.

At the planar entrance, the Titan Autarch's avatar launched another strike, shaking the Phantom Plane with a powerful earthquake. From deep within the fissure rose a humanoid figure composed of dark light—the very Will of the Phantom World. The two entities began their ferocious duel, their conflict quickly retreating far into the horizon.

"Let's move," Alvo commanded. The group advanced rapidly into the fissure, entering a majestic and eerie scene. An immense, echoing space greeted them, filled with whispers that seemed to reverberate endlessly. Ghostly souls, inert and devoid of will, floated in and out of the planar core, trapped in a cycle of samsara. Ignoring this haunting spectacle, the group quickly assembled a large shamanic matrix.

Alvo, possessing the strongest spiritual power among them, poured his Law of Light into the matrix. Like a valve being released, the Phantom Plane began to tremble violently. Outside, the wizard and Titan Autarchs, locked in a stalemate with the ghostly forces, felt the quake ripple through the plane. Alarmed, the Ghost Autarchs attempted to return to the Phantom Plane. However, the wizard and Titan Autarchs intercepted them, resulting in a bitter, ferocious battle.

From a distance, one could witness flashes of gray and black light being expelled from the Phantom Plane—a surreal, almost artistic display like a scene from an epic painting. The Titan Autarch aiding the operation managed to defeat his ghostly counterpart but sensed his avatar fleeing the Phantom Plane to escape its Will. He stood guard near the entrance, ready to intervene should the planar Will reassert itself.

At the fissure's entrance, waves upon waves of ghosts desperately tried to re-enter the Phantom Plane. Seeing the dire situation, Alvo had no choice but to advance. He swallowed the Titan essence given to him, and his body began to transform. Spiritual power surged wildly, and suddenly, as if a long-buried force had been unleashed within him, a wave of pure white light radiated outward, annihilating all evil and darkness in its path. What followed was an uncanny silence.

The matrix operators hurriedly reported, "Sir, the Phantom Plane's Will is on the verge of dissipating. We must begin the spatial jump process now, or we will perish here."

Outside, the gathered Autarchs observed the crumbling plane from afar. Some smiled, while others looked worried. Cornelius Avonsad, the Titan Autarch who had assisted the operation, arrived and addressed the group solemnly.

"From this day forward, the High Phantom Plane will cease to exist." With a wave of his hand, Cornelius projected a vision of what was occurring within the planar core.

The wizard Autarchs watched with surprise and growing concern. Some contemplated entering the collapsing plane to rescue the wizards trapped inside. However, Cornelius firmly stated, "Forget it. The spatial channels no longer exist. It is impossible to follow. The plane is on the brink of detonation."

As leader of the Titan Autarchs, he raised his voice and declared, "Today, in the year 3000 of the Era of Laws, let it be recorded. Led by Alvo Dumbledore and Henry Cruz, these brave souls have secured an eternal alliance between the Titan and Wizarding Worlds, witnessed by the Wills of both realms."

From afar, a weeping wizard Autarch, Utarrana Cruz, sent an urgent message to Hybrym Dumbledore. It wasn't long before Hybrym arrived, his expression devoid of emotion as he surveyed the scene. At his arrival, every Autarch present lowered their heads in respect. Hybrym, among the greatest powers in the High Planes and close to the pinnacle of Level 10, observed the chaos.

From the Phantom Plane's collapsing remnants, a brilliant blue streak shot outward, heading for the outer edges of the Primordial Circle. Hybrym moved with incredible speed toward the light, his motion causing the already crumbling plane to dissolve entirely into dust.

Utarrana spoke, her voice resolute despite her grief. "Let's go. With the sacrifice of these brave souls, I will not allow further meaningless deaths. I will cleanse the battlefield myself, whether you agree or not."

With a wave of her arms, a green surge of energy radiated outward, obliterating all traces of darkness and malevolence from the Titan Plane's borders. Silence followed. Some regarded her with pity, others with deep respect.

Cornelius Avonsad approached her, bowing deeply. "Lady Utarrana, as soon as the Autarch Marks of your kin are found, please notify us. The Titan World, in eternal gratitude and testimony, will venture even to the Abyssal Core to retrieve them. This is the Will of the Titan World."

The wizard Autarchs were left speechless. Such profound gratitude was unprecedented. Reflecting on past wars, they understood the unyielding filial devotion of wizards. Whether Level 1 or Level 10, no wizard would ever accept one of their own being lost to the vastness of the universe.

In a remote corner of the Barbaric Plane, situated on the borders of the High Abyssal and Demonic Planes, a massive celestial formation appeared in the sky. Brilliant lights illuminated the desolate landscape as 30 young individuals materialized below. Some were exhausted, others unconscious, and only the strongest among them remained standing.

Alvo quickly surveyed the sterile region and began issuing orders with precision. "Establish an underground base built to last for years. Minimal luxuries—just enough to sustain murmurs of comfort." His words carried authority as six earth-specialist wizards nodded and immediately set to work.

Turning to the assassination specialists, Alvo commanded, "Head to the nearby forests. Place spiritual markers to alert us if any humans approach."

Finally, Alvo turned to Henry. "Cover this area with the Living Forest Descent. Make it impenetrable."

Henry nodded, and moments later, the barren land was transformed. Towering trees, some reaching 200 meters in height, with sprawling trunks stretched for kilometers in every direction, creating a natural fortress.

Alvo then conjured small flying creatures through transfiguration, releasing them to scout for signs of civilization. Meanwhile, wizards specializing in formations began constructing protective wards and enhancing the area for cultivation and daily life. Every detail was carefully managed to adapt to the hot climate.

Before long, a small enclave of the wizarding world had firmly rooted itself in this desolate, far-flung corner of existence, ready to endure whatever challenges lay ahead.

Days later, the reconnaissance and ninja assassination specialists returned with their findings. One of them addressed Alvo with a formal report.

"Master Alvo, it seems we are in a highly underdeveloped plane. There are villages with large populations practicing ancestral inheritance techniques, though all of these are beast-related. This leads me to believe this is a nascent plane destined to evolve into a High Plane of Divine Beasts. They are constantly waging wars across the land. As for the forest and the matrices we've established along the external, internal, and core perimeters, the major villages have already deemed it a forbidden forest.

"It appears the world's will is sealed by this higher plane. They cannot sense us or discover us unless they see us directly with their eyes."

Alvo nodded, a thoughtful expression on his face. "Very well," he said. "We will not interfere with this civilization. Focus on increasing your individual power. Since the world's will is sealed, nothing here restricts us from advancing as we please. Maintain the perimeter with specially bred magical creatures. Begin developing various types and fill this forest with beasts. I don't want any intruders here."

After giving his orders, Alvo sat down, sipping a cup of herbal tea. He turned to Henry and spoke calmly. "I will begin the process of refining my mark. Once I'm done, you may start yours."

With that, Alvo disappeared into a secluded room at the edge of the base.

Inside his spiritual sea, Alvo poured power into the Dumbledore Mark. After considerable time, he sensed something faint—a distant connection. He could feel his ancestral lineage, though it was far away, like a whisper across an abyss. Alvo carefully imprinted the planar coordinates of their current location into the mark, embedding additional codes to signify the proximity of the High Abyssal and High Demonic Planes.

Months later, far away amidst the vast sea of stars, Autarch Hybrym Dumbledore moved forward relentlessly, obliterating anything that dared block his path. Suddenly, he stopped.

A faint signal had reached him—a feedback from the mark. Closing his eyes, he delved into its connection and discerned the distant, almost imperceptible resonance of the other part of the mark. His expression hardened as he processed the information.

Far away—extremely far.

He explored the mark further and extracted the encoded data left behind. The realization struck him: the coordinates indicated proximity to both the High Abyssal and High Demonic Planes.

"This is troubling," he muttered to himself, his brow furrowing deeply.

Without hesitation, Hybrym sent a direct message to Utarrana Cruz, relaying the critical information. His voice, though contained within the transmission, carried the weight of urgency and purpose.

Having done so, he resumed his relentless pursuit, his aura blazing brighter than ever. Hybrym's trajectory through the starry void was resolute, his will unwavering. Though the path ahead would take years, nothing—neither abyss nor demon nor the void itself—would deter him from reuniting with his kin and ensuring their safety.

Alvo sat quietly, leafing through the records of the civilizations native to this plane, his expression one of quiet contemplation. The histories and traditions of these people painted a picture of a world still in its early stages of development, yet brimming with potential.

His thoughts were interrupted by the entrance of a Level 3 wizard, the one responsible for monitoring planar disturbances—phenomena often referred to as "planar tumult." These occurred when another plane anchored a portal or gate within the boundaries of their current location.

Alvo, understanding the implications immediately, murmured to himself, "And now, will it be the Abyssal world or the Demonic? Would the High Plane overseeing this one allow such an intrusion so freely?" His brow furrowed deeply at the thought.

From his reconnaissance efforts using transfigured creatures and summoned spies, Alvo was certain that this world lacked the means to establish contact with higher planes. According to his observations, the Divine Beast World would only establish a connection once one of its heritage bloodlines reached the power level of an official Level 1 mage. Only then would it take notice, whisking them away to fulfill their destiny.

Turning his sharp gaze to the wizard, Alvo spoke with measured authority. "Continue the monitoring efforts. We need to determine whether the invading plane is here to conquer or merely to harvest resources. Until we know more, maintain the highest level of discretion. This could either be an opportunity—or a disaster."

The wizard nodded and left the room swiftly. Alone once more, Alvo leaned back in his chair, his mind already turning over possible scenarios and contingencies. The game had just begun, and every move would count.

In addition, Alvo turned to Henry with a sharp command. "Send an avatar seed as soon as the planar gate stabilizes. They won't notice; their focus will be entirely on maintaining the portal's stability. Once the seed infiltrates their command network, have it gather additional information about their operations and intentions."

Henry nodded, already formulating the spell needed for such a precise insertion.

Alvo leaned back in thought, his mind weaving a strategy to handle the precarious situation. If this plane lacked the means to establish contact with higher planes, so be it. That limitation could be turned into an advantage.

"Here's what we'll do," Alvo continued, his tone decisive. "We'll utilize this plane as a buffer to halt the invading forces. Begin crafting physical enhancement potions—focus entirely on reinforcing raw strength and durability. Avoid anything that boosts spiritual power. This way, we prevent the Divine Beast Plane from intervening by capturing ascended Level 1s. Without spiritual elevation, they won't be detected. It will buy us more time."

The room fell silent as the gathered wizards absorbed the implications of his words. Alvo's plan was as cunning as it was audacious, turning the limitations of their current situation into a shield against external threats. He knew time was their most valuable resource, and every moment bought could tilt the scales in their favor.

"Work swiftly and in secrecy," Alvo added. "We cannot afford any mistakes. Ensure the concoctions are potent and deploy them strategically. The invaders must never suspect the extent of our capabilities."

Alvo had long since lost track of time, consumed by cultivation and the meticulous recording of information. Over the years, he appeared to have reached his early twenties, now standing firmly as a Level 4 wizard—a Master Wizard. Henry, too, was on the brink of advancing to the same level. Determined to keep their group strong and united, Alvo had enforced rigorous training and cultivation routines. Now, all 30 members had reached the pinnacle of Level 3, forming a formidable force.

One day, Henry approached Alvo with a grim report. "It's the Demon Plane. Their objective is to enslave the world's will, transforming it into a resource-producing slave world. They are fully aware this plane belongs to the High Plane of Divine Beasts, but they couldn't care less. To them, the Divine Beasts are no threat, even if war were to break out.

"They've begun invading the eastern regions, releasing demonic beasts and annihilating any resistance from the local population."

Alvo's eyes narrowed. "Push the Barbarian Empire to attack with full force. Let's see how many key players reveal themselves when some of these demon scions fall."

Months later, Henry returned with an update. "Four Demon Lords at Level 4 have shown up so far. No signs of Level 5 or higher entities. This seems to be the operation of a specific organization within the Demon Plane. Given the number of Level 4s, it's likely a Level 5 is leading them."

Alvo sighed, rubbing his temples. "This is exhausting. Can we determine how many Autarchs are involved in commanding the Demon Plane's forces?"

Henry frowned. "Possibly, but it will take time."

He paused before adding, "If we want to survive this, we need to advance to Level 5."

Alvo nodded slowly, his expression dark with thought. "I have a plan, but it's incredibly risky. We consume the world's will and replace it with an avatar imbued with the Wizard Plane's will. This could eventually allow the Wizard Plane to extend its influence here."

Henry's eyes gleamed with understanding. "It's dangerous, but if it succeeds, the Wizard Plane will gain a foothold on the Outer Border—far from the Inner Circle. In the future, this could hinder both the Abyssal and Demon Planes. It's worth the risk."

Five Months Later

Alvo and Henry sat within a platform as a glowing orb of light floated before them, dimming with every passing moment. Beside it, a stationary avatar awaited. The assimilation process was intense, but as it concluded, they both felt an immense surge of power.

Though young, the world's spiritual energy was astonishing. For wizards, understanding the laws was the first step, but from Level 4 onward, it was all about spiritual quality. Reaching Level 5, the Almighty Wizard stage, brought a transformation. Such beings didn't fight or argue; their very presence demanded respect. The universe itself seemed to declare: This entity is divine. Kneel and seek forgiveness.

This was the power Alvo and Henry had now attained.

Alvo began imprinting the Wizard Plane's will into the world avatar, leaving it to mature in due time. With the area sealed, they returned to their base.

A Level 3 wizard soon approached, bearing urgent news. "Sir, the Barbarian Empire had an initial advantage, but the demons grew impatient and unleashed relentless waves of troops, forcing the empire to retreat. Additionally..." The wizard hesitated, glancing nervously at Alvo. "It seems Level 7 beings are making their move.

"The Divine Beast Plane discovered the incursion and sent a Level 7 guardian to secure the portal. But just as they were about to close it, two Level 7 entities from the Demon Plane arrived and killed them. We do not yet know how the Divine Beast Plane will respond, but the demons are accelerating their invasion in the east."

Alvo's expression hardened as he processed the information. "Very well," he said, his voice steady. "Deploy the barbarian battle legions. Let the carnage begin. If they succeed, instead of destroying the planar gate, have them force an invasion through it. That should draw the attention of the Level 7 entities away from here."

The room fell silent, the weight of his words heavy in the air.