bdsm-fiction Chapter 112: A potion that lives up to its name!
Chapter 112: A potion that lives up to its name!
Chapter 112: A potion that lives up to its name!
In the corridors of Hogwarts Castle.
The winter sun wasn't particularly warm.
It shone through the castle windows into the corridor floor, casting dappled light and shadow between the stone bricks, but it couldn't dispel the white mist that condensed in the air with Ian's breath.
"This is so frustrating! My soulmate is actually a dreamlike illusion."
Ian encountered many cheerful little wizards along the way, a stark contrast to his own sighing face.
Putting aside the formidable power of dark magic, if we were to talk about the magic that superpowers most look forward to after arriving in the magical world, besides Animagus Transfiguration, it would naturally be the Guardian Charm that runs through this magical world.
Previously, Ian had thought that perhaps because he was a time traveler, he didn't have a soulmate. He had even planned to find out more about it and go to the Mystic Realm to catch one, since there were plenty of little animals there. However, the reality that was gradually becoming clearer had given him a rude awakening.
Indeed.
It's really cool that a person's soulmate is a region of a certain world, but if that region can hardly be truly formed, then it can only be considered a pure tragedy.
Ian felt that his Guardian Charm would probably never be able to cross into the first level in his lifetime.
Name: Ian Prince Occupation: Bloodline Warlock Magic Power: Level 8 (In the midst of explosive leap)
Skill: [Enlightenment of Wisdom [This skill cannot be upgraded]]
[Guardian Spell (Level 0) 49/50]
There was certainly a reason why Ian received Professor Flitwick's admiration.
Level eight magic power far surpasses most adult wizards; another step further would be the limit of human potential. Such a level of magic power is already considered top-tier among wizards. However, even with such immense magic power, Ian could clearly feel a sense of helplessness in the face of the mutated guardian curse.
"It's not that I'm incapable, but according to Professor Flitwick's theory, the anomalous node in my Patronus Charm's mutation is too outrageous. I estimate that even level nine magic power couldn't bear such a burden." Ian couldn't even summon Dumbledore with a Summon Charm, so how could he expect to successfully summon the Mystic Realm after his magic power was upgraded again?
Leaving aside the question of whether a world or Dumbledore would require a greater burden of magic, the distance between life and death alone would certainly impose a far greater burden than the distance between the ends of the earth and the corners of the sea.
"Even Merlin couldn't do that!"
Ian sighed helplessly, temporarily putting aside his obsession with the Guardian Charm. No matter how much he worried, it wouldn't change the fact that his magic couldn't be successfully cast.
"Let's go to class first, and leave our worries for later tonight." Ian jogged towards another classroom; the first-year students had already entered the arduous stage of having four classes a day.
After Charms class, there was a forty-minute break, followed by Potions class where being late would result in a scolding. Aurora had already reserved a seat in Ravenclaw.
"Here you go, this is good stuff." Ian stepped forward and handed Aurora a bottle of potion. He was happy to share his treasures with his friends, and this was the first batch of innovative potions he had brewed.
"What is this?"
Aurora stared curiously at the grayish liquid in the container.
"If you encounter an enemy you can't defeat, throw it at them. It can temporarily turn ordinary wizards into Squibs, and it can also reduce the strength of powerful wizards."
"I call it the Anti-Magic Potion. The cost is manageable, but the ingredients are a bit hard to find," Ian said excitedly. He had created another masterpiece potion after the Infinite Power Potion.
The ability to concoct such a potion was naturally thanks to Morgan's aphrodisiac, and of course, Ian felt that his ability to think critically and apply knowledge to new situations also played a significant role.
It's very practical, but it's a bit of a pity that he can't apply for a patent for this potion.
"Can I help you find the materials?"
Aurora placed the potion into her robe. She hesitated for a moment. "Do you want the Truth Potion? I'll get you a few bottles once I've brewed it."
"Leech is much better than Truth Potion. I am a master of Leech." Ian launched into a crazy self-praise mode, which is typical of boys in front of their friends.
"Then go and summon my grandfather's spirit for me?"
Aurora spoke with anticipation.
Ian has gone silent.
"I'm not actually that much of a master."
He quickly changed the subject.
Soon, Snape, who had been absent from class for several days, arrived at the classroom as usual, keeping track of the time.
He was somewhat absent-minded throughout the class, glancing out the window every now and then. Ian thought his good uncle must be worried that Quirrell was causing trouble in the castle.
"If he knew your grandfather was also at Hogwarts, he definitely wouldn't be able to sleep well at night," Ian whispered to Aurora after noticing Snape's increasingly severe dark circles.
"I remember your uncle was also a Death Eater." Aurora had clearly already figured out the interpersonal relationships at Hogwarts, and of course, she also knew about Snape's past.
"There's competition within the Death Eaters too." Ian didn't choose to expose Snape's double agent identity; he wasn't always unable to maintain a proper balance.
"So, you've been obsessed with the Muggle studies professor because you wanted to get rid of your uncle's rival and put your uncle in charge?" Aurora's imagination was as rich as ever.
but.
Ian is no less so. "A Death Eater who doesn't want to be the leader isn't a good Death Eater. After Voldemort falls, I want to be the nephew of the third Dark Lord."
"My good uncle loves black the most, he must be good material to be the Dark Lord." Ian said it with a straight face, anyway, he was secretly chatting and bragging during class.
He was just saying it casually, but Aurora clearly took it seriously. She stared at Snape, who was lecturing slowly at the podium, her eyes filled with a thoughtful look.
Snape, standing on the platform, only noticed two people whispering to each other. After several warning glances went unanswered, he simply used the opportunity to deduct points from another young Ravenclaw wizard.
"Mr. Chef, you're not allowed to pick your nose during class. This isn't a place for you to collect potion ingredients. Ravenclaw will deduct one point for not paying attention."
His power failed to stop Ian and Aurora; instead, it made the other young wizards somewhat uneasy, and they even dared not scratch their heads when they were troubled by the lecture.
"Now let's put it into practice. This is the moment when the fools will be exposed for who they really are." While Snape was brewing the potion, the people he cared for most were no longer Ian and Aurora.
He hardly dared to leave the Slytherin area, because Singed and Ziggs, those two brilliant but mischievous boys, always managed to come up with some strange and ingenious ideas in every class. Their potions notebooks were from some unknown era, and they could concoct even the simplest potions into something resembling a terrorist attack.
"Puff~"
This is not.
Even with Snape's frequent and vigilant surveillance, they still managed to catch him when he looked away.
For some reason, a cloud of green smoke burst out of the crucible.
"Damn it! Who told you to add so much frog skin?! Do you want us all to turn into frogs?" Snape's speed in casting spells was probably honed by the young wizards in Potions class.
It was another close call, but ultimately nothing serious happened.
The two Slytherin boys were expelled from the Potions class—even after the Breaking Bad duo left, Snape still harbored resentment and anger.
"The order is wrong! Idiots! Didn't you take notes?"
"I wanted the green liquid. Are you colorblind? You should all drink this pot of blue stuff!"
"Damn it! Take your hands off me! This isn't foot bath water for soaking pig's trotters!"
The giant bat is unleashing its fury.
While the young wizards were trembling as they brewed potions, Ian saw Snape secretly pull out a Marauder's Map and glance at it several times during his classroom patrols.
They were probably trying to determine exactly where Quirrell was active within the castle.
"I bet he didn't pay us." Ian and Aurora's potion-making went very smoothly, but Snape caught him red-handed several times when he tried to advance to the professional fire-maker.
This led him to have many complaints about Snape.
"He confiscated several junior wizards' maps." Aurora helped Ian process the materials and secretly handed them to him, while also recounting what had happened at Slytherin House.
"It's alright, you can comfort those whose maps were confiscated and tell them that the second map will be 20% off." Ian frantically stirred the potion in the cauldron in front of him.
He also helped Aurora, who was processing the materials, stir them a few times.
"He's already warned me not to sell contraband in Slytherin—if I catch you selling contraband for that brat again, I'll send you to Ravenclaw." Aurora mimicked Snape's tone and mannerisms perfectly, even her voice sounded exactly like his.
This is a voice-changing technique that most people who have practiced human transformation techniques possess.
"He's just trying to scare you. Hogwarts doesn't have a transfer system." Ian felt his uncle was blocking his source of income, but he didn't have a good strategy for dealing with it. He couldn't exactly dig up his ancestors' graves and have them crawl out and give Snape a good lecture, could he?
Tai Tau Tong is extremely filial!
"I know, I sold two more in front of him, but he still didn't transfer me to your college." Aurora poured the chopped ingredients into the two cauldrons.
"Your map was confiscated too?" Ian stopped stirring the cauldron. It didn't matter if other maps were confiscated, but the map of Aurora hadn't been designed to hide Aurora's coordinates.
"Of course not. Snape was furious and wanted to punish me by putting me in solitary confinement, but I had information that the Saints had gathered for me, so after I showed it to him, he just turned around and left."
"Although he was still cursing and swearing, he didn't insist on punishing me anymore." Aurora winked at Ian and whispered with a hint of emotion, "Ian, the way you like to threaten people is really effective. Snape seems quite worried that I'll dig up that Lily Evans' grave."
The German girl's words made Ian's eyes widen in surprise.
really.
The title of "Hogwarts' Number One Daredevil" truly doesn't belong to Ian.
"I didn't, don't talk nonsense. You've been corrupted by the Slytherin students." Ian was worried that Snape would hold him accountable later.
No wonder Snape disliked both Aurora and him in this class.
"My grandfather said you dug up Voldemort's entire family's graves." Aurora poured the brewed potion into a container.
He tilted his head and looked calmly at the little wizard beside him.
Ian didn't expect Grindelwald to be such a big mouth.
"What are you going to do with those skeletons?"
Aurora asked curiously.
Ian was silent for a moment, then glanced at Snape, who wasn't nearby, before lowering his voice, "One of Voldemort's uncles is in your arms right now."
His answer left the German girl stunned for a long time.
immediately.
Aurora's eyes widened in disbelief as she pulled out the bottle of potion Ian had given her. The grayish liquid inside did indeed look like a soup made from boiled bones.
"This works?"
Aurora's knowledge of potions was clearly being challenged.
"I've also uncovered a great secret here, but I can't tell you yet." Ian lowered his voice, not wanting Snape to hear. In his view, if Snape banned the Infinite Power Potion, wouldn't he be pelted with a hundred Oblivion Curses by Snape if his research were leaked?
If Snape had actually done that, Ian would have been perfectly able to understand.
After all, what he discovered concerned the origins of wizarding. Yes, the origins of wizarding—Ian finally realized what the main topic of Morgan's love potion formula was. It must be said that hiding such a topic within a love potion formula, which symbolizes "reproduction," is very much in line with Morgan's consistent dark humor style.
"A dangerous secret? Just this one potion?" Aurora frowned. She wanted to take out the anti-magic potion again and wave it around, but Ian raised his hand and pressed it back down.
"The anti-magic potion is for emergencies. We can't always expect Dumbledore and your grandfather to be completely careless and appear in time when we're in danger." What Ian was really worried about was Voldemort. If he wasn't mistaken this morning, Hagrid should have taken a Philosopher's Stone to the Headmaster's office in addition to the Mirror of Erised.
If Voldemort were lured back to Hogwarts by Dumbledore as a result, Ian, as a descendant of the Grindelwald family, felt that Aurora would be the first young wizard to pique Voldemort's interest.
Tom, who has no nose, is most interested in studying unusual bloodlines.
"I have my own way of protecting myself—if this thing will put you in danger, I think you'd better keep it to yourself." Aurora tried to hand the anti-magic potion back to Ian from under the table.
"It itself won't pose much danger to me, because without a potion formula and ritual that I have mastered, even a potion master wouldn't believe that there's any direction for further research into it." Ian took the anti-magic potion and then put his hand into Aurora's robe pocket.
"This stuff has a special effect on Voldemort, it's definitely much more effective than your survival methods." Ian actually wanted to see Voldemort's reaction after being hit by the potion. Not Voldemort's facial expression, but a reaction at the genetic level, which could indirectly verify some of his guesses.
Speculation on dominant and recessive genes:
Everyone likely possesses wizarding blood, but through the underworld selection that Morgan spoke of, the souls that have made that selection can transform recessive genes into dominant genes.
Of course, this is just one way of saying it. A more accurate way of saying it is that humans are covered by a "membrane", and when this "membrane" is removed, magic will be released.
Ian's anti-magic potion simply reapplies this "membrane" to the wizard. It cannot last for too long, but for the blood relatives of those Muggle skeletons who extracted this "membrane," this "membrane" will be even more compatible with those wizards covered by it, thus creating a more severe magic shielding effect.
Ian has gradually come to understand this amazing field, but his conclusions cannot explain the birth of the Squib, so there must be many things he has not yet realized.
"You seem pretty sure that dark wizard will come to our school?"
Aurora ignored Ian's little hand, which he kept warming in his pocket and never took out. She was simply curious that Ian was so certain of a possibility that she hadn't even foreseen.
"I don't know Voldemort, but I do know our headmaster—"
2
Ian thought of what Grindelwald had led him to find, and he naturally guessed the reason why Dumbledore had been frequently disappearing lately.
He has both of Voldemort's Horcruxes with him now. Fortunately, he can take two Voldemors on their voyage tonight, so he's not worried that Voldemort will find out about this when he returns to the academy.
"I think you're trying to hide the fact that you're also a prophet." Aurora shook the last bottle of potion she had sealed, then handed one of the bottles to Ian.
"Then you have to teach me how to turn my eyes white. Your grandfather did it in front of me once, and it was so cool." Ian raised his hand to indicate that he and Aurora had finished preparing the potion.
Snape was walking over.
Aurora merely glanced at Ian beside her, saying nothing more. The quality of her potion and Ian's were about the same this time, since they were brewed at the same time and the two of them worked together. However, Snape only gave her a cold look before picking up the potion brewed by Ian and using it as a standard for the other young wizards to refer to.
"Ravenclaw gets five points."
Snape didn't even comment on Aurora's potion—clearly, the "Evans Dancing Warning" that Aurora had used in Slytherin had been very effective against him.
Aurora didn't care about Snape's attitude, since she knew Snape had never liked her; otherwise, she wouldn't have used "Evans Dancing Warning" on him.
"Very good, there were fewer than twenty more idiots in this class than I expected."
After Snape had checked everyone's potions, the young wizards, finally able to relax, filed out. When Ian looked back at the classroom, he was stunned by what he saw—Snape hadn't left as usual after class, but instead had taken out a series of large padlocks and started locking the classroom's materials cabinets.
"Who are they trying to protect themselves from?!"
Ian kept looking back, feeling depressed. He was willing to bet that if Snape could pull such a stunt with these ordinary materials in the classroom, he certainly wouldn't loosen the locks in the underground office either—they might even be using the same high-grade locks as in the library, hard targets that even Ian's level three lockpicking charm couldn't handle.
"It's all Quirrell's fault!" Ian shifted the blame to the Muggle studies professor, and there was some truth to that.
Snape had never been so vigilant before Quirrell returned.
Not only did he fail to guard against Ian, but he also failed to guard against the other young wizards. This Potions professor may have had problems with his teaching methods, but he never stopped the young wizards who were capable of stealing his materials—just like the ancient Hogwarts tradition, not being caught meant tacit approval.
Many professors still quietly adhere to this tradition. For example, Snape, even after graduating for so many years, still uses this tradition with Hagrid.
Isn't this also a legacy of tradition passed down from the Middle Ages?
"The weather is getting colder and colder; it's bound to snow soon."
"The portable heater is really useful, and it's cheap too. I bought eight, and I even clip one to my butt when I sleep at night."
"I clamp it too, but I clamp it inside my butt."
Seeing many young wizards along the way carrying the Weasley twins' fireplace bottles, and thinking about his unsold heated underwear, Ian's already unhappy mood worsened even further.
He believed his alchemy skills were far superior to the twins', mainly because he listened to the slanderous words of his treacherous roommate.
They missed a golden opportunity to seize the Hogwarts winter market.
"Thankfully, the Marauder's Map is selling well." This was probably Ian's only remaining source of comfort. The school market was still too small, and the number of wizard children was simply too limited. If several thousand or even tens of thousands of new students could enroll each year, Ian felt he could become rich just by selling the regular version of the map.
He was even able to open a small shop in Hogwarts Castle, thanks to his excellent relationship with Dumbledore. Anyone who knows about it knows that this would be even more profitable than opening a shop in Diagon Alley.
"Rice, only rice can relieve worries." The dinner was as lavish as ever, with even more innovative dishes to look at. Ian even saw the ginseng chicken soup that he had suggested before.
"The embryo! It's made with turkey!"
The house-elves' skills clearly still need some improvement. Dumbledore made a rare return to Hogwarts to attend the dinner party, where he wore a purple robe and chatted and laughed with the professors around him.
of course.
Professor Quirrell's smile was mostly forced; he couldn't even eat the food laid out in front of him.
Even the young wizards sensed something was wrong with him because of his guilty look.
"Are you alright, Professor Quirrell? You don't look well." Professor McGonagall was extremely concerned about her colleague's health, but her sudden hand on Quirrell's shoulder caused a lot of water to spill from the cup in his hand. Seeing that Dumbledore was also looking over, he quickly used the excuse of feeling unwell to stand up and leave the Great Hall.
"Our Professor Quirrell must have caught some disease while he was out," Dumbledore said, coming to Quirrell's rescue.
But the voice carried a profound meaning.
"I'll go with Madam Pomfrey to see him later," Snape said, engrossed in his food.
His unusual act of proactively helping others surprised Professor McGonagall.
"Severus, I'm entrusting this matter to you. Make sure you do your best to help our Professor Quirrell." Dumbledore's instruction to Snape seemed to have a hidden meaning.
Not far away.
Ian, sitting in the student section, was "eavesdropping" on the professors' conversation. He noticed that after Dumbledore finished speaking, he turned his head and smiled and winked in his direction.
"What kind of undetectable eavesdropping spell? The author of the Forbidden Books is just bragging again!" Ian gulped down a large bowl of turkey soup to cover his embarrassment.
It tastes terrible.
But it should still be quite nutritious, since ginseng was added. Ian chewed the stale chicken meat in his mouth, and then he heard a group of professors talking about Dumbledore's stolen items.
Previously, Dumbledore's trespassing at Gringotts was not exposed, and after the Ministry of Magic could no longer cover up the robbery, it inexplicably turned into the claim that Dumbledore's belongings had been stolen.
Gringotts even offered Dumbledore a very sincere compensation – it's truly a magical world, and the fact that such a magical event could happen certainly broadened Ian's horizons.
"He said he was just trying to show me that even a white wizard like him could have a sinister side. I think he was clearly using facts to teach me what power and authority really mean."
1,
"Luckily I have no ambition, otherwise he would have raised me to be the fourth Dark Lord." After Ian finished eating and drinking, he went to the library and did not return to the lounge until it was time to teach the young wizards.
"Prove the Riemann Hypothesis to me!"
After a night, the bronze eagle head not only did not let Ian off the hook, but became even more ruthless, vividly demonstrating what true pettiness means.
Fortunately, it wasn't late at night, and there was a steady stream of young wizards coming and going. Ian managed to squeeze in when a young wizard was leaving.
The Bronze Eagle was very unwilling, but there was nothing it could do about Ian.
"Ian, I want to learn the Steak Spell!"
Upon entering the lounge.
Ian saw Michael run straight over.
"What steak curse?"
He thought Michael had discovered a secret about the fairies.
"Today, a young Gryffindor wizard seemed to mispronounce a syllable when using the Levitation Charm, and he summoned a bison right there in the Gryffindor common room!"
"My God! This is the magic we should really be learning! We'll have steaks to eat for a lifetime!"
Michael looked on with longing.
One 1
!
? !
1
Ian had certainly heard of such things, but he didn't expect Gryffindor to have a replica. "Let me look into it. I've been thinking about this for a long time."
"Didn't you ask that Gryffindor student?" Ian even wanted to go and ask him himself, but Michael sighed and gave a disappointing response.
"Even he himself couldn't recreate the whole process. All the Gryffindor students are now in the common room pondering it. It's said that even Professor McGonagall couldn't control this matter."
Michael's words made Ian lament his bad luck once again.
"I'm sure I can figure it out, but definitely not tonight. Tonight I'm going to teach everyone a not-too-dangerous curse." Ian's words immediately piqued Michael's interest.
"Ian's going to teach us dark magic! Quick! Everyone come quick!"
Michael started shouting very enthusiastically.
Curses do fall under the category of dark magic, but they are a less harmful form of dark magic. Some curses are taught in Defense Against the Dark Arts class.
Of course, Michael's shouts could easily lead people to misunderstand that Ian was going to teach some Unforgivable Curse. The Ravenclaw students were really the kind of students with a strong thirst for knowledge. When they heard that there was dark magic, even students several years older gathered around, each spouting Avada Kedavra and Imperius Curse.
"What I'm going to teach you is the leg-locking spell—"
Amidst the disappointed sighs of a group of young wizards, Ian began today's lesson, and in the process, he even pretended to give several young wizards extra points, behaving quite the part.
Everyone loved it; after all, reward systems work everywhere. In the bustling classroom, the young wizards quickly began practicing, putting what they had learned into practice.
The sounds of bumping and stumbling rose and fell. Watching the group practicing spells with their roommates or siblings, Ian figured that probably no one would dare teach these magical fanatics the Unforgivable Curse.
"Luckily, I know these guys pretty well!"
Ian sighed.
The Leg-Locking Curse will lock the legs of the person under its influence, making it impossible for them to walk normally. Although it will cause some inconvenience to the person under its influence, it will not cause serious harm.
Getting a bruised and swollen face from an accidental fall is probably the biggest hidden danger.
It's not that no one can adapt to the feeling of having their legs locked. Ian saw his good roommate William wriggling on the ground like a slug, stubbornly insisting that he felt nothing.
"All curses have ended!"
Seeing that everyone had turned into slugs and were crawling on the ground, Ian took advantage of their lack of knowledge and used "Curse Stop" to break the continuous leg-locking curse on them.
Anyway, there's nothing wrong with that.
By the time everyone realizes something is wrong, Ian will have already honed his Curse Stop to the required standard. At that time, anyone who jumps out to question Ian will be able to use facts to fiercely refute them.
"What kind of magic is this! It's so cool!"
"My goodness! The young professor looks way cooler than my brother when he casts spells!"
"He looks so cool holding that wand!"
Amid exclamations of "Wow, that's amazing!", Ian cheerfully ended his mini-class for the day. Instead of returning to his dorm, he browsed through the books on the small bookshelf in the lounge.
Merlin
This is a biographical novel, and there isn't much actual magical information in it, but its strength lies in its dramatic plot twists, which gave Ian a thrilling reading experience.
"Some people's lives are indeed more exciting than a wish-fulfillment novel." Even after everyone had gone back to their dormitories to rest, Ian was still engrossed in reading the story in front of the fireplace.
The firelight reflected off the surrounding silver-white walls, casting a soft and warm golden hue over everything, making the entire lounge feel even more cozy and comfortable.
Ian is waiting for someone.
Or perhaps he's waiting for a ghost.
As night fell and the silvery moonlight gently bathed the Ravenclaw common room in a tranquil and mysterious glow, the warm fireplace protecting Ian from the chill outside. Sitting on the sofa by the fireplace, he could clearly feel the warmth rising from his feet and spreading throughout his body.
There must be some kind of magic in the fireplace, making it comparable to a six-horsepower air conditioner, and a truly energy-efficient one at that.
"Morgan—and King Arthur—." Ian's whisper echoed softly in the lounge, carrying a hint of indescribable sigh and inexplicable emotion.
Time passed second by second.
When midnight arrived.
Helena Ravenclaw arrived as promised. She seemed quite uncomfortable with the sneaky feeling, and when she floated through the wall into the lounge, she looked around furtively, like a thief caught in the act.
"I never imagined I'd be visiting a little wizard, or even a little male wizard, in the middle of the night," Helena Ravenclaw said as she saw Ian sitting in front of the fireplace reading a book.
Ian also looked up at her.
"Does this make you feel guilty?"
Ian spoke in a teasing tone.
"To be honest, a little."
Helena Ravenclaw's answer was also very honest: "I would never have done this if my mother hadn't asked me to; I've always been raised in a very traditional way."
It's true that she's a hopeless romantic, but she also comes from a very strict family, which is actually the reason why most hopeless romantics are born.
"We have plenty of time. Perhaps you should say goodbye to your friends of all these years. As long as you don't mention me, it's fine."
The firelight from the fireplace illuminated Ian's face as he spoke softly.
"I don't think I should be a burden to you." Helena Ravenclaw floated in front of Ian. The firewood in the fireplace was burning very brightly, crackling and popping intermittently.
"And if you really can—you really can do that incredible thing, just as I imagine,"
I think I'll meet them again someday.
Helena Ravenclaw looked at the table in front of Ian, on which lay only a book. "Little Ian, what do we need to do? Perform a magical ritual to send me to that land?"
Her voice carried a mix of pride and nervousness, as well as undisguised doubt and confusion, since many things were missing here if a magical ritual was to be performed.
Most ritual magic involves very complex steps. In addition to requiring magic power and skill from the person performing the ritual, the more powerful the ritual magic, the more things are needed.
Helena Ravenclaw had never heard of magic that could send a ghost to another world, but she was certain that there would be a lot of preparations required.
"Ritual magic can't do that."
Ian shook his head.
His words made Helena Ravenclaw even more confused.
"Tonight, you will call me Merlin." Ian stood up, walked over, and extended his hand to Helena Ravenclaw, who looked somewhat bewildered.
"What do you mean?"
Helena Ravenclaw spoke curiously, hesitatingly offering her pale hand. Her hand had a somewhat transparent quality, but Ian held it firmly.
"It means I'm taking you on a long voyage tonight." Ian rummaged through his clothes with his other hand, and as if he were prepared, he pulled out a strip of cloth and tied it together with Helena Ravenclaw's hand.
"What are you doing?"
Helena Ravenclaw stared in astonishment at what was happening.
"We'll find out soon enough, won't we?" Ian chuckled softly, pulling out a small vial of potion.
He downed it in one gulp, right under Helena Ravenclaw's watchful eye.
"Was that the aphrodisiac you brewed at the Lai Qu House?"
Faced with this inquiry.
Ian didn't have a chance to answer.
Because he showed the bewildered Helena Ravenclaw what it means to fall asleep instantly.
"this--"
Helena Ravenclaw, her eyes wide, was about to say something when she suddenly felt the surrounding scenery begin to blur, and a boundary of perception, unusually clear, was crossed in an instant.
The Water of Life and Death.
The Living Hell Soup.
Tonight, in Ian's hands, it truly carries a ghost... - transcending life and death.