yasinovel Chapter 141, Section 140: The Phoenix and the Invisible Shadow
Chapter 141, Section 140: The Phoenix and the Invisible Shadow
Chapter 141, Section 140: The Phoenix and the Invisible Shadow
Dark green light illuminated the entire room.
Magic, a symbol of death, is stirring.
Two powerful magical forces intertwined and tore at each other in the air, forming a brief but dazzling energy vortex that ripped the surrounding air apart with a sharp whistling sound. The light in the underground room became abnormally distorted at this moment, as if one could hear the wails of countless wronged souls who had died under the Killing Curse.
Faced with Voldemort, who had suddenly resurrected for unknown reasons and regained his magic under the nourishment of the Philosopher's Stone, whose strength, even if not at its peak, was far superior to that of other wizards, Ian chose to confront him head-on, manipulating the equally powerful magic within him to compete and battle with Voldemort.
The young wizard knew that the scales of victory would only tip in his favor.
Fate holds many possibilities, but there is absolutely no possibility that he will lose to Voldemort—this is the confidence a wizard should have when he picks up his wand.
of course.
Just to be on the safe side, Ian used Voldemort's family to apply a debuff to Voldemort beforehand, causing the "wizard genes" in Voldemort's body to be suppressed, weakened, and dormant under the constant pressure of the potion.
"To be honest, I've wanted to try it for a long time... The so-called Dark Lord Voldemort, his reputation is well-deserved." Ian's voice was filled with excitement.
The seemingly extremely dangerous scene did not frighten him in the slightest.
"You little brat, don't you know that no wizard in this world can call me by my name?" Voldemort's voice turned cold as he increased the magical output to his wand.
Although he was affected by Ian's potion and his magical activity was constantly decreasing, he was a veteran of many battles and quickly regained his composure, his eyes flashing with a fierce light.
Voldemort's confidence, cultivated over many years, led him to believe that apart from Dumbledore, who might have a slight chance of stopping him, all other wizards would ultimately die under his magic.
The history of the past years is proof of that. As long as this strangely powerful little wizard is killed, he will certainly have enough time to deal with the problems caused by the effects of certain potions on his body.
"I will make a tombstone for you, and then engrave these last words on it." Ian gazed at the figure not far away that struck fear into the hearts of countless wizards.
He gripped the wand tightly, as if it were an extension of himself, in tune with his will, and all the magic he had poured into it was unleashing its power at maximum efficiency.
"You sharp-tongued fellow, you can't possibly be a real wizard. At your age, no wizard could possess such powerful magic as you."
"I can't, Dumbledore can't, and I think even Merlin in ancient times would be the same... Given this situation, haven't you ever wondered why you are so special?"
Voldemort was shaking his wand with exaggerated movements. He felt the pressure from the other side, so he began to try to use his knowledge of psychology to break down the young wizard's psychological defenses.
"In the wizarding world, no anomaly is a coincidence, and no gift is without a price. I think you have never considered what kind of price is hidden behind your extraordinary talent."
have to say.
Voldemort's brain was still somewhat sharper after his resurrection.
Unfortunately.
Ian has come a long way, and he remembers every step he has taken. There was no such thing as a gift or favor; he relied entirely on his own efforts and a few small acts of help from outside.
"I hate people like you who spout nonsense! Just because you're incompetent doesn't mean you can't do it either! All these years, haven't you ever wondered why Dumbledore has been relentlessly pursuing and beating you?"
"Reflect on yourself! Is it because you didn't work as hard as I did?" Ian didn't think Voldemort could answer his questions about the system, and he was completely unmoved by Voldemort's psychological tactics.
"Submit to me, and I can truly tell you why. Although you have thwarted my plans many times, I value talent, and even though I hate you to the core, I am willing to give you a chance..." Voldemort wanted to continue to bewitch Ian, but he discovered that his magic was waning much faster than he had imagined.
Green lights intertwined in the air to form a complex pattern, as if two forces were vying for dominance over this space, while his territory was being constantly eroded.
"I can share with you the knowledge that Dumbledore is unwilling to share with you, the knowledge that he has hidden away, which is reserved only for his great power, and you may even learn about the secrets of immortality."
"I'm such a generous person, stand beside me and I'll forgive and forget what you did before." Voldemort increased the leverage he used to seduce Ian.
Regardless of whether he was bluffing Ian, at least his tone sounded quite sincere. If it weren't for the fact that his killing intent had only increased during the magical clash with Ian... well, Ian still wouldn't have believed him.
"I still overestimated your intelligence." Ian was completely unfazed by Voldemort's offer of a position. He could read any of the books Dumbledore had hidden away if he wanted to.
What kind of immortality is this...? A Horcrux that's barely clinging to life doesn't deserve to be called immortal.
"I suggest you listen to how that big villain from sixty years ago swayed people, instead of just making empty promises." Ian's tone was filled with undisguised contempt.
This is true.
Grindelwald's speech sounded sophisticated and impressive, and he was genuinely willing to share any benefits. In contrast, the difference between him and the second-generation Dark Lord was quite obvious.
They don't give you any benefits.
All they talk about are dreams, power, and future status.
A smart person would immediately know it's all a lie. To be honest, this kind of outdated PUA tactic probably wouldn't even fool his two good roommates.
The loyalty of his subordinates was entirely based on the threat of death. Otherwise, how could one man's subordinates remain loyal after he was imprisoned, while the Death Eaters of the other man all scattered like birds and beasts?
"I'm sorry, you made the wrong choice." Voldemort's expression immediately turned angry after being scolded, but his tone remained coldly calm.
The flesh on the Dark Lord's face began to shrink and dissolve. It was unclear what kind of dark magic he was using, but the magical power output from his wand suddenly increased many times over.
Despite the deadly curse descending upon him, Ian showed little concern.
"You made the wrong choice, not me. It seems you haven't realized that from the moment you stepped into Hogwarts, your fate was already sealed."
His hand, which was gripping the wand tightly, trembled slightly. The next moment, the Killing Curse, which was clashing with Voldemort's curse in the air, split into more than ten branches as if it had received some kind of command.
As if given life, or as if equipped with navigation, they suddenly dispersed in the air, transforming into more than a dozen tiny dark green beams of light that flew rapidly towards Voldemort from different angles.
"Damn it! It's that trick again!"
This sudden change caught Voldemort completely off guard. He had witnessed Ian's bizarre magic in the tunnels of Hogwarts before, but now he hadn't expected Ian to have reached such a new level of unpredictability.
"You couldn't possibly have such a powerful soul and control!"
Voldemort dared not be careless about the tiny, dark green beam of light. After all, even a mosquito, however small, is a killing curse; it kills anyone who touches it. Even the Dark Lord could not escape this rule-like power.
The magic was about to strike.
Voldemort immediately slammed his wand down, forcibly breaking the stalemate between himself and Ian, and vanished from the spot before several small Killing Curses and a thick Killing Curse could strike him.
The cunning of magic.
It happened in Voldemort's hands.
He appeared silently behind Ian, and then raised his hand to launch a sneak attack, only to find that bursts of blue flames suddenly ignited on the ground and fiercely rushed towards him.
The scorching, deadly magic raged and swept through, forcing Voldemort to vanish once more. However, this time he remained hidden for several seconds.
Ian looked around.
He didn't have Grindelwald's observational skills, nor could he sense Voldemort's presence. The only thing he was certain of was that Voldemort was still in the room.
"Shadowless Storm!"
Ian couldn't find Voldemort, but he knew how to deal with him—as Ian's spell reached unprecedented strength, the entire underground room seemed to be torn apart by an invisible force.
His magic was no longer a simple beam of light or an explosion, but transformed into countless invisible blades, like blades in a gale, silently yet incredibly sharp, occupying the entire room.
These sharp blades moved through the air, cutting through anything that stood in their way. Stone pillars, tables, chairs, and even solid stone walls within the room were shattered and broken by these blades.
Every inch of space was utilized.
The air was thick with acrid smoke and the fluctuations of magical energy. As the saying goes, abundance breeds overwhelming power, and Ian perfectly demonstrated what it means to have such immense magical power that one doesn't need to consider the direction of the threat.
"You damned magical creature! A product of bio-alchemy!" Voldemort was forced out of his hiding place, his body surrounded by an invisible shield that protected him from the blades.
of course.
Because Ian's magic was released far too slowly, Voldemort had varying degrees of injuries on his face and body, which was perhaps the reason for his fury.
"So you think I'm a product of bio-alchemy?" Ian realized what Voldemort was about to say to him, chuckled, and raised his wand again.
Voldemort's expression immediately tensed up, and he chose to strike first by casting a spell on Ian.
"Flesh and blood being torn apart!"
It is extremely vicious black magic.
The increasingly dormant magic within him made Voldemort dare to clash with Ian again. He realized that what Ian had thrown at him was more troublesome than he had imagined. An invisible force had penetrated deep into his body, suppressing his magic with an increasingly fierce and irresistible force.
"All curses have ended!"
Ian flicked his wand.
Voldemort's magic vanished into thin air—he had learned a version modified by Dumbledore, capable of even destroying Slytherin's magic concerning time and fate.
Dark magic is naturally no problem for him either.
"Become my nourishment once again!"
Ian swung his wand forcefully, and the fiery ground instantly transformed into the deep red color represented by the [Flame Journey], the flames that could burn souls flickering dangerously.
Voldemort, who already had a deep understanding of the soul, immediately became alert.
"Damn it! Where did you learn all this stuff?!" Voldemort was shocked. He wanted to continue casting the spell, but he realized that the situation inside his body was getting worse.
The magic power used to cast spells seemed to have completely died out, no longer possessing any vitality, like stagnant water, or like those duds he loathed.
The weakening of magic.
This caused Voldemort to become overwhelmed by the sharp blades in the space.
His black robes were ablaze, emitting a pungent, acrid smell. He tried to continue using his shield to fend off the surrounding attacks, but his increasingly uncontrollable magic was causing him to weaken once more.
The shield was crackling and popping, as if it would collapse at any moment.
"As you say, perhaps it's magic that Dumbledore didn't want to teach you?" Ian started playing psychology, making Voldemort even more furious.
"Dumbledore is just a guy I've completely fooled! That damned bastard! You and Dumbledore will both suffer the consequences of being my enemies!"
"I didn't lose to you! I lost to that damn thing you threw! We'll meet again someday! And then I'll settle the score with you!"
Voldemort had already realized that he had been tricked by Ian. He watched as his magical shield was weakening, and he quickly cursed through gritted teeth, trying to make a quick getaway.
All I saw was...
Voldemort turned into black smoke and was about to rush towards the ceiling.
"You'd better run while you can, but unfortunately, you were already out of the running by the time I came in." Ian's words puzzled Voldemort greatly, and a bad feeling made him rush frantically upwards.
"Look, you're just delaying your death..." Ian twirled his wand, and Voldemort, whose black smoke had just disappeared into the ceiling, suddenly froze.
His body transformed into black smoke.
It has a unique color.
"Bang!"
As if his body control had been taken away, Voldemort fell from the sky, his magic could no longer be maintained, and he reverted to his wounded human form.
"No!"
I haven't gotten up yet.
Spikes pierced through Voldemort's body, rendering him unable to move even his wand, and pinning him to the ground.
"What did you do to me!"
Voldemort's eyes turned bloodshot, and he roared as he raised his head.
"A little bit of Transfiguration, how about that, not bad, right?" Ian glanced at the Lens of Eris for a moment before turning to the disheveled Voldemort and speaking.
"I told you just now, victory will only be on my side. I don't like to lie." Ian's wand trembled slightly, and the spikes that had emerged from Voldemort's body instantly transformed into chains.
They emerged from Voldemort's flesh and blood, and bound his hands, feet, and head, allowing Ian to choose to strangle and dismember Voldemort at any time.
"This can't be a Transfiguration! It violates Gump's fundamental Transfiguration laws!" Voldemort gasped, his bloodshot eyes wide, his voice filled with disbelief.
"See? I told you you didn't learn anything real at Hogwarts. You must not have taken Professor McGonagall's class. She told me herself the truth that wizards are gods."
"They're gods now, what's the point of talking about laws? It's your limited thinking that's holding you back, Tom!" Ian walked step by step towards Voldemort, who was nailed to the center of the room, surrounded by crimson flames. Voldemort's wand had already turned to ashes in the fire, and it was unclear whether it was Quirrell's original wand.
"What kind of magic is this?"
Voldemort suddenly seemed to calm down.
"It's magic I created myself... my journey." Every step Ian took felt like walking on a carpet woven from flames, yet he felt no heat and was not affected by the flames in the slightest.
"You think you can become a hero by defeating and killing me? Dumbledore won't let you go... But I am the one who truly understands you!"
Voldemort struggled to prop his head up and looked at Ian.
"I don't think you can understand."
Ian pursed his lips.
"You are merely an alchemical weapon created by Dumbledore with false memories. When you are no longer of use, our headmaster will destroy you."
obviously.
Voldemort's misunderstanding of Ian continued. He seemed to have realized that all was lost, and his previous hysteria and manic rage had completely vanished.
"You're the biological weapon, your whole family are biological weapons." Ian slapped Voldemort hard across the face, leaving half of Voldemort's face caved in.
This guy clearly sacrificed a lot of flesh and blood when he forcibly increased his magic power.
"I must say, if you wanted to climb over me to get to the top, you certainly succeeded... by using some underhanded tricks." Voldemort continued speaking in a hoarse voice, barely suppressing his anger.
"If you have ambition, as long as you don't kill me, I can assist you and make you the new Dark Lord... I think I would enjoy such an achievement."
"After all, I'm not young anymore, and it's time to find a successor." Voldemort was, of course, lying through his teeth; he was just trying to salvage the life he had so painstakingly regained.
only.
This way of enticing people is truly unique.
"??????"
Ian felt that Voldemort probably considered the title "Dark Lord" to be a very prestigious one.
"Your mind is definitely different from normal people's. How could you possibly think I would aspire to be some kind of Dark Lord? Don't you know I hate it when people fear me?"
He slapped Voldemort hard across the face again.
Voldemort's face became symmetrical immediately.
"If you want to be like Dumbledore, I can help you. You certainly deserve flowers and applause, to become the White Lord bathed in sunlight." Unexpectedly, Voldemort was so patient. Despite his eyes being full of anger, he still suppressed his anger and tried to negotiate with Ian.
can only say.
His mindset and limited perspective mean that any attractive offers he can make are truly cheap.
"Dear senior...you've lived for so many years and you don't seem to have made any progress at all." Ian kicked Voldemort, who was forcibly propping himself up and almost looking him in the eye.
"Dark Lord? White Lord? What kind of narrow ideals are these? They're utterly evil! You wouldn't even consider kicking me a dirty foot, affecting my grand ambitions for the future." Ian looked down at Voldemort, who had fallen back to the ground, and tightened the chains that had emerged from Voldemort's body.
"When it comes to evil, your magic is far more evil than mine, treating other wizards as food... Tell me, do you think our White Lord would tolerate magic like yours existing in the world?"
"He can't even tolerate me learning some dark magic." Voldemort's knowledge and insight were not lacking. He looked at the vast sea of fire around him with a hint of mockery in his tone.
"You will definitely die, and die a more gruesome death than I have. Unlike me, you won't have a chance to come back. You might even be used by him as a dark creature that he needs to deal with in order to further solidify his greatness." Voldemort's tone was filled with certainty, and his eyes held not only resentment but also a hint of schadenfreude.
"You're about to die, so shut up." Ian used Transfiguration to create a pistol, intending to kill Voldemort with the Muggle weapon that this guy despised the most—how to put it, in Voldemort's eyes, this way of killing was indeed humiliating, and a few more rages appeared on Voldemort's face.
"I will return! And when that time comes, I hope to see you again, instead of just digging up your grave, spitting on your ashes, and mocking you for becoming yet another glorious chapter in the life of the great White Wizard Dumbledore!"
Voldemort lowered his head with a cold smile, as if awaiting death once again.
"Too bad, there are no more graves to dig up in your family." Ian pointed his pistol at Voldemort's forehead and then pulled the trigger without hesitation.
"Da da da~ da da da~ da da da~"
A small pistol.
It's not just emitting blue light.
The speed of dozens of revolutions per second was even more insane—soon, Voldemort's body was mangled and lying on the ground, and only a few corpses could be found among the numerous bullets.
"Phew~"
Ian blew on the muzzle of his gun.
"This thing is really useful."
He removed the magic that kept the modified pistol in place.
I'm currently reading the error-free version! This is the first time I've published this novel.
With the Mirror of Erised right in front of him, Ian, who had always been curious about and wanted to use it, did not go up to it immediately. Instead, he held his wand and waited in front of Voldemort's corpse.
Time passed second by second.
Perhaps they finally couldn't hold back anymore.
"What a cunning fellow..." Wisps of black mist rose from the corpse, their tone venomous, and they converged and crashed into Ian without hesitation.
"Those who kill me will ultimately become like me..."
Seeing that he had no way out, Voldemort's soul wanted to use his own soul as a price to place an indelible curse on Ian.
however.
"We've been waiting for you!"
The crimson flames burning around Ian blocked his way, creating a barrier between his soul and Voldemort's, a barrier capable of burning souls into nourishment.
This is called having a legitimate reason for launching an attack.
It wasn't that he wanted to burn Voldemort for food; Voldemort himself stumbled upon him and offered him warmth—the young wizard's plan was quite good, and he had even thought in advance about how to explain it to Dumbledore afterward.
only.
Sometimes plans really can't keep up with changes.
"Hehehe!"
With an incredulous shout from Ian, the space in front of him rippled, and a black figure shot out like an arrow from the distorted space.
Ignoring the fire barrier erected by Ian, it rushed outside unharmed and opened its sharp mouth, its mouthparts seemingly generating a terrifying suction force.
Voldemort's remnant soul had originally planned to swallow his pride, take a detour, and try to escape by canceling the curse he had failed to complete. However, the moment the thought arose, he was sucked into the mouth of the black figure.
"What the hell is that now?!"
Voldemort's remnant soul only had time to leave behind one last scream in the world.
immediately.
It was completely swallowed up by the suddenly appearing "phoenix"—probably digesting Voldemort's soul, purple flames burning on the black phoenix.
"Damn it!"
Ian, realizing something was wrong, deactivated the sea of fire in front of him. He only had time to see the black phoenix swallow, and he could feel the close and indescribable connection between himself and the phoenix.
only.
"I finally managed to kill that monster! The soul that dropped should be mine! It's my trophy!" Ian jumped up and grabbed the black phoenix.
He tried to pry open the Black Phoenix's mouthparts and reach in to pull out Voldemort's soul—but the Black Phoenix's mouth was tightly shut, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't pry it open.
"You promised! The phoenix would only come to help me when I need it most! Why is it trying to steal my food!" Ian's hand wasn't burned by the dark purple flames on the black phoenix, but he was clearly helpless against this bird that had suddenly appeared. He used all his strength but still couldn't pry open its mouth.
"Hehehehehe~"
The phoenix tilted its head and stared at its master, its mouth still tightly closed, but it still made a sound, though the sound coming from its throat was rather eerie and strange.
"What?! A Phoenix from the Soul Palace?!"
Ian picked up the seemingly dim-witted but fiercely competitive phoenix and shook it upside down, but despite his persistent efforts, he still couldn't shake Voldemort's soul out.
"Give me back my magic!"
The young wizard felt he had worked for nothing and spoke with resentment.
"Huh?"
at last.
The phoenix no longer emitted that chilling cry, but the sound didn't seem like the clear, melodious cry a phoenix should have. Perhaps it understood what Ian had said.
The flames on its body became even more intense.
Just moments later, as the purple flames gradually faded, Ian felt a power flowing through the connection between himself and the phoenix.
His whole body began to feel hot.
It felt like my flesh and blood were burning.
"Holy crap! It's glowing!"
Ian raised his arm and discovered that his skin had not only become like a cooked shrimp, but also that some kind of golden pattern was faintly shimmering beneath his skin.
My body is getting hotter and hotter.
Like being gently caressed by the rising sun, it was a warmth emanating from within, neither the burning heat of a fever nor a simple increase in body temperature, but a sign that vitality and energy were boiling within him. Ian could clearly feel every cell in his body rejoicing.
The magic was also boiling and growing.
"What's going on?!"
To Ian's utter astonishment, his magic power began to increase again, and not just in a simple way, but as if an invisible barrier had been broken through without any hindrance.
"Hehehehehe~"
The phoenix's response was completely incomprehensible. The young wizard lifted the fabric beneath his robes and discovered that the golden patterns covered almost his entire body.
"This is a demonic script!"
Realizing the problem, Ian immediately ran to the Mirror of Eris—this mirror could not only reflect one's thoughts, but also act as a normal mirror, allowing the person looking into it to see their entire body.
"Another unrecorded magical script!" Ian could almost hear his own heartbeat, each beat resonating like a war drum throughout his entire body.
He took off all his clothes from his upper body, ignoring everything else reflected in the Mirror of Erised, focusing only on the faint patterns on the surface of his body.
These magical runes, like ancient incantations, are outlined with golden lines and shimmer with a mysterious light; they are not merely words but also symbols of power.
It was also a product of the resonance between magic and the depths of Ian's soul. However, Ian was unable to discern the meaning contained within it, only sensing a rhythm similar to the death runes on the Deathly Hallows.
"What did you put inside me?"
Ian was completely bewildered by this unknown turn of events, which he couldn't figure out at all. He grabbed the black phoenix that had spontaneously climbed onto his shoulder and questioned it loudly.
"Hehehehehe~"
The black phoenix seemed to be responding, yet it was as if it had said nothing at all. Even if Ian hadn't learned the phoenix language, a specialist in it probably wouldn't understand what it was saying.
"Are you really a phoenix...?"
Ian was speechless.
He quickly looked at the increasingly frequent flashing golden patterns in the Mirror of Eris. Just as he was about to take out his wand to see if he could peel them off his body...
"Don't be nervous, child."
Albus Dumbledore's voice suddenly rang out—Ian turned around abruptly, only to find that the voice was not coming from the door, but from a wall in the room.
"Click click click~"
An unusual sound was heard.
First, a brick in the corner of the room trembled slightly, then began to rotate clockwise with a slow but steady rhythm. Immediately afterwards, the surrounding bricks seemed to receive some kind of signal and began to imitate it, rotating in a complex yet orderly pattern.
As if driven by some ancient and powerful magic, each rotation of the bricks was accompanied by a slight friction sound, and after they were completely twisted, a dark room hidden behind the wall was revealed.
The room was dimly lit, but exceptionally clean.
Inside were some seemingly ancient magical artifacts and books. In the center of the dark room, a huge stone table stood silently, covered with intricate runes and patterns, emitting a faint glow. A familiar figure slowly rose to his feet—Albus Dumbledore.
That shrewd and calculating old principal.
"What are you doing here!?"
Ian stared wide-eyed in astonishment.
He was genuinely stunned.
Albus Dumbledore, who should have been dealing with the Quirrell incident in the basement, was instead sitting in a dark room with another, older-looking fellow.
Moreover, they had clearly been sitting inside for a long time. There were many tea sets on the stone table, and the runes on them were a "heating" method to keep the black tea warm at all times.
In addition, there were also small desserts on the stone table, and quite a few of them were eaten. Presumably, the two old guys witnessed the entire battle between Ian and Voldemort from beginning to end.
"Of course, we must ensure that nothing goes wrong."
Albus Dumbledore responded with a smile.
"Is this what you meant by 'no danger'?" Staring dumbfounded at the smiling principal, Ian finally understood what "no danger" meant on the note.
"A breathtaking battle, beyond my expectations, it gave me absolutely no chance to offer any assistance." Albus Dumbledore gave Ian a thumbs up.
The other, older fellow, Nick Lemaître, whom Ian had only seen photographs of in books, remained silent, his gaze fixed on the phoenix on Ian's shoulder with a mixture of surprise and uncertainty.
"It has no soul, Dumbledore, this is not a normal phoenix..." Nick Flamel whispered to Albus Dumbledore in a voice only the two of them could hear.
"Um."
Albus Dumbledore's eyes flickered briefly. He patted Nick Flamel's hand, his expression unchanged, and stood up, emerging from the dark room.
"Headmaster Dumbledore, please help me see what's wrong with me!" Ian was genuinely nervous; his usually skillful Rune Stripping spell had failed to work at all.
"No problem, Ian. This is not a bad thing; on the contrary, it's something many people would love to do." Albus Dumbledore walked up to Ian.
His expression was somewhat complicated, and his tone was also a little wistful.
"I bet a million Galleons that this phoenix is not right... I feel like I've seen this strange thing somewhere before."
Nicolas Flamel also came closer, wanting to touch Black Phoenix, but when Black Phoenix turned to him with her blood-red eyes, a strong sense of unease immediately rose in his heart.
His prophetic abilities were telling him that it would be dangerous to touch it.
"Isn't it a bad thing?"
Ian no longer cares about his phoenix.
He looked at Albus Dumbledore with a puzzled expression.
"That's right, it is actually your future path. Perhaps you're more familiar with its official name if you've read related books." Albus Dumbledore turned to look at the Eris sunglasses in front of Ian. His eyes flickered even more intensely, and his eyes even became slightly moist.
No one knows what the principal saw in the mirror.
"What's your name?"
Ian immediately pressed for more information.
Albus Dumbledore turned around.
The eyes behind the half-moon frame gradually calmed down.
"It is called the Proof of Legend, signifying the beginning of a legendary journey." Albus Dumbledore's gentle voice echoed in the room where Voldemort had already been defeated.
It was a resounding statement.
It also contains complexity and...envy.
"There's a blurry image in my mind, I can't see it clearly, what is it?" Ian was stunned for a moment, then quickly described the changes in his body.
"Only you can know what it is, child. When you can see it clearly, it means you have gained authority, and it also means you have truly become a legend."
Albus Dumbledore shook his head.
"In this respect, who would have thought that a little kid would actually get ahead of you? Tsk tsk, I guess I really didn't come to Hogwarts for nothing."
"This is a really big deal!"
Nick Lemaître's gaze finally fell on Ian.
"Did I just hear you say that wizards are gods?" He watched the little wizard nod, pondered for a moment, and then continued in a hoarse voice.
"Very good, I like your... conviction."
The almost legendary alchemist suddenly spoke, as if asking casually, "I wonder if I might have the honor of knowing what you saw in the Mirror of Erised?"
Upon hearing this...
Albus Dumbledore also sided with Ian.
"I'm reading, professors. I see I'm reading a book." Ian answered without hesitation, and Albus Dumbledore seemed to breathe a sigh of relief.
"Reading... What are you reading?"
Nick Lemaître, however, seemed unwilling to give up and continued to ask questions.
"It should be called The Legend of Wukong, right?"
Ian blinked, and seeing the puzzled look on Nicolas Flamel's face as he hadn't heard of the book's title, he turned back to look at the Mirror of Erised.
He truly saw himself reading.
but.
I want this world... I want all living beings to understand my will.
In the magic mirror.
The only clear handwriting in the book.
It was reflected in Ian's eyes.
(End of this chapter)