Convergence of Magic: Overlord X Harry Potter

Chapter 3 : A World Reforged

AN : Hello everyone, thank you for your support. This chapter has been a major source of inspiration for me in writing the Overlord crossover. Having read many fanfics from the Overlord series, I always felt there was something missing—an explanation of how Ainz or Nazarick could crossover to another world instead of the New World. So, here it is: my own theory on this concept.

In the vast expanse of this world, the mightiest beings were the Dragons. They were the epitome of adaptation, thriving in lands too harsh for humanity to dare venture. Among the rugged terrain of the Azerlisian Mountain Range, the Dragons reigned supreme, particularly the formidable Frost Dragons.

Unlike their brethren, Frost Dragons possessed sleek, serpentine bodies, reminiscent more of graceful felines than the lumbering forms of lizards. Their scales bore a striking bluish-white hue, reminiscent of the pristine snows that blanketed their domain. As they aged, their scales transitioned to the purest white, a testament to their mastery of their wintry environment.

With their natural affinity for cold, Frost Dragons were immune to its biting embrace, yet paradoxically vulnerable to the searing touch of fire. However, their most fearsome asset lay in their ability to unleash a freezing breath that could crystallize even the hardiest of foes.

At the pinnacle of this Draconic hierarchy stood Olasird'arc Haylilyal, the White Dragon Lord and ruler of the Quagoa that had long plagued the Dwarf Kingdom nestled within the Azerlisian Mountains. It was this formidable leader who now bellowed a command towards the confines of his castle: "It's me, open up."

He waited patiently, but there was no response from the other side of the door. It was inconceivable that his son was not present. The occupant of this room was a recluse, a hikikomori, who seldom ventured beyond its confines.

In fact, Olasird'arc could not recall a single instance of his son leaving his room. Even his meals were delivered by his siblings. The audacity of his son feigning absence in the presence of his own father, a Dragon Lord, was deeply irksome.

"I'll repeat myself. It's me. Open up," Olasird'arc demanded once more, his voice resonating with the authority befitting his status.

Dragons possessed incredibly acute senses, and the forcefulness of his shout should have roused even the deepest sleeper. Yet, the door remained obstinately closed. Anger surged within Olasird'arc, transforming into action. With a swift motion, he lashed out at the door with his tail, the impact reverberating through the chamber. The door, constructed by Dwarves who had likely never anticipated such force, groaned under the blow.

Signs of movement stirred within, but Olasird'arc's fury remained unabated. He struck the door once more, shattering it into splintered fragments. Stones flew into the room like shrapnel, accompanied by a startled cry from within.

"Get out of there, right now!" Olasird'arc's voice thundered with authority, prompting a reaction from within the room. A Frost Dragon emerged, but unlike the slender physique typical of its kind, this one appeared overweight. Perched precariously on its nose were tiny spectacles, and it regarded Olasird'arc with a nervous demeanour.

Though this was his son, the sight of his pitiful display left Olasird'arc sighing inwardly. It was understandable, perhaps, for one to tremble in the presence of a ruler such as himself, but he had hoped for more strength from his own blood. Furthermore, the Dragon's corpulent physique resembled that of a swine rather than a true Dragon.

As his son, Hejinmal, tentatively spoke up, Olasird'arc contemplated the situation. Though lacking in the physical prowess expected of a Dragon, Hejinmal still possessed the potential to grow stronger with age.