HPDBC Chapter 210, page 209: Lost Power, the Hands of the Mysterious Division?
Chapter 210, page 209: Lost Power, the Hands of the Mysterious Division?
Chapter 210, page 209: Lost Power, the Hands of the Mysterious Division?
Ian didn't care what tricks Riddle was plotting; the Paradoxical Servant could never escape his control.
These days, the young wizards whose stomachs are rumbling are most concerned about what to eat for breakfast.
He did not see the owner of the castle; the legendary duke did not seem to be at home. Fortunately, Morgan had gotten up earlier than him and had already instructed his servants to prepare breakfast for him.
Morgan led Ian to an elegantly decorated restaurant. The tables were set with a variety of exquisite tableware, and the steaming food emitted an enticing aroma.
The food includes traditional bread, lamb, and cheese, as well as carefully prepared fried eggs and fresh fruit.
Each dish exudes a classic flavor.
Perhaps this combination can't compare to the food at Hogwarts, but being able to enjoy such food in ancient times when food was scarce is definitely a very happy thing.
"At least the bread is soft." Morgan noticed Ian's expression and demeanor throughout, which made Morgan realize that his teacher's past life might have been more extravagant than he had imagined.
As a powerful wizard.
That's not surprising.
Morgan pondered to himself.
After finishing breakfast, Ian walked out of the dining room and saw Riddle still intently brewing potions, his focused expression seemingly oblivious to everything around him. Ian didn't disturb him and headed straight for the castle gates. He wanted to see what morning was like in this era, and Morgan, dressed impeccably, followed suit.
but.
The castle steward, however, wanted to stop them.
"Oh, Your Highness, you are wearing the same clothes you wore last week. If outsiders saw this, they would think that your father has been very harsh on you."
The butler wasn't targeting Ian; he was used to Ian's presence. Perhaps it was because Morgan often brought "wizards" back, and he only stopped Morgan because of Morgan's attire.
"I like this black dress, and we're just going for a walk around the neighborhood," Morgan said, looking at her clothes and giving the butler a less-than-satisfactory answer.
However, the butler reluctantly nodded.
he left.
Morgan was left with a slight pout, and Ian clicked his tongue in disbelief. What does it mean to wear something last week and not wear it this week? Is this the legendary extravagance of the nobility?!
The young wizard now understands why luxury clothing in later generations is so poorly made that it breaks after just one wash in a washing machine. It turns out that they are paying homage to the ancient nobles in terms of how long they are worn.
"I've learned something new."
Led by Morgan, Ian arrived at the lawn outside the castle. The weather was fine today; the morning sun shone through the thin mist onto the ancient castle, casting a soft golden glow on the magnificent building. In the woods outside the castle, the chirping of birds rose and fell, weaving a beautiful melody.
Passing through a neatly manicured garden, Ian came to a training ground. There, the Duke's knights were conducting their daily training.
Their movements were perfectly synchronized; every sword swing and every step was filled with power and rhythm. Ian noticed that these knights were far more physically imposing than ordinary people; their muscles were clearly defined, and their movements were swift and precise.
It was as if every inch of his body contained extremely powerful strength.
Ian even saw the giant rocks these knights used for training, each weighing at least a ton, yet they were able to lift them like barbells and use them in groups of dozens for strength training.
These people can only be described as human-shaped beasts.
This incredible scene left him speechless once again.
"Have these knights' bodies been magically modified?" Ian couldn't help but speculate. Since there were no shirtless people, he couldn't check whether the knights had been magically modified.
"Um?"
Morgan was taken aback when her new teacher asked her a question. She glanced at Ian with a puzzled look. "They are all knights who practice the Knight Breathing Technique. Through this breathing technique, knights can constantly temper their bodies and unleash their potential. Almost all the great nobles train their own knights."
This is common knowledge in the world. Little Morgan didn't expect Ian to be so amazed by it, but after thinking about it for a moment, she realized what was going on.
Judging from the era in which the Dark Bible was written, my teacher must have been extremely old.
Perhaps their long period of isolation from the world has left them with little understanding of changes in the outside world.
The Knight's Breathing Technique is a relatively recent phenomenon, originating from a legendary wizard who has gained notoriety over the past decade. My teacher seemed to have mentioned that legendary wizard's name last night.
That's what I was thinking.
Morgan then gave Ian a detailed explanation: "Only the most talented knights can learn the Knight Breathing Technique, because the training process requires many precious body-refining materials. Even our family can only train a few hundred knights, and even the king only has a little over a thousand real knights."
Her tone was tinged with emotion.
Upon hearing this, Ian looked again at the knights in training. Seeing one after another of these beings who could be described as humanoid beasts, he couldn't help but feel once again how magical this era of swords and magic was.
Living at the end of the 20th century.
Ian had never seen any information about this so-called breathing technique that ordinary people could learn, and he didn't know why it had been lost or whether some kind of mysterious department was deliberately covering it up. Just like all the other things they had covered up, some true history had been buried in secrets unknown to anyone.
"No wonder my good brother Arthur could take on a dragon single-handedly."
Ian seemed to be deep in thought.
He didn't know why the breathing technique had been submerged, but he could sense that this era was indeed one where swords and magic coexisted, filled with mystery and power.
"What Arthur?"
Morgan overheard Ian's mutterings and became quite curious.
Ian turned to look at the young witch.
"Oh, right, he's our good brother." He changed his words, but this left little Morgan completely confused.
I thought about it for a long time but couldn't recall ever knowing such a person.
Just as the young witch was about to ask a question.
Ian has continued walking forward.
The two left the training ground and walked along a path to the river outside the castle. The river water was crystal clear, and a gentle breeze rippled across its surface.
Fish swam happily in the river, and Ian even spotted some small, bluish-green crayfish. Beside the stream, there were also dozens of small, raised mounds of earth.
"What's inside?"
Ian's eye twitched slightly.
"They are the teachers I found before—?" Morgan hesitated before responding, and seeing Ian's expression change slightly, she immediately offered an explanation.
"They're all swindlers trying to deceive me and steal my money. They're not real wizards, and certainly not my real teachers." Morgan's tone was tinged with annoyance.
She clearly lacked the guilt one would expect from murder; instead, she seemed to take it all for granted. It just goes to show that the vengeful and vengeful nature of a bad woman is evident from a young age.
"I'm glad I'm a real wizard, otherwise I probably would be sleeping in there too." Ian was somewhat relieved that he had signed a contract with Morgan last night. He wasn't afraid of Morgan's revenge now, but who knew if the Morgan lying in the dreamlike illusion would hold a grudge for the rest of his life.
"You are different from those scammers."
Morgan didn't know how to respond, so he could only emphasize that Ian was not a fraud.
"I'm different from most wizards."
Standing there, Ian couldn't help but turn back to look at the majestic ancient castle, and suddenly, he was surprised to find that...
The castle's exterior was exactly the same as the gloomy castle he had seen in the dreamlike realm.
"So, this place also holds the past that the teacher can't let go of?" the young wizard pondered to himself, feeling that he had glimpsed Morgan's deepest secret.
Looking at the somewhat nervous young witch beside him, he suddenly spoke, "Miss Morgan, I'd like to know, have you ever tried to learn magic on your own?"
The little wizard's sudden question startled Morgan.
but.
She quickly and honestly answered, "My family doesn't support my learning magic, so the wizards we worship are almost unwilling to communicate with me. However, I've always been curious and fascinated by magic, so I can only explore it on my own and collect some learning materials about magic through various channels."
talking.
Morgan then showed his work to his cheap teacher.
She slowly stretched out her hand, and with a gentle flick of her fingertips, a flame appeared out of thin air, only to quickly extinguish itself; then, with another gentle wave of her hand, the clear river water seemed to come alive, rippling softly in concentric circles.
Then it transformed into threads, which surged into the air and converged into a stream of water that she controlled.
have to say.
Talent is indeed a very important thing. At Morgan's age, many wizards haven't even experienced a magical burst, and even those who have have find it difficult to control their magic. But this young witch is different; she can not only control magic, but also figure out how to manipulate the elements on her own.
Gifted with extraordinary talent.
The signs are already visible.
"very good."
Ian gave a heartfelt exclamation of praise.
"And another thing," Morgan thought to himself, secretly relieved to hear Ian's praise, wanting his teacher to recognize his potential to the fullest extent.
She performed again, and magical fluctuations appeared. The next moment, the fresh grass on the ground began to wither and turned into black ash in the blink of an eye.
This is black magic.
Not high-end.
But it was definitely not some beginner-level magic. Little Morgan wielded this magic far more skillfully than her previous tricks, which made Ian feel a sense of familiarity.
"Good, very good, excellent, you have some of my style!" Ian gave a thumbs up, having also gained some understanding of Morgan's dark magic talent.
He's only two or three levels below him.
Don't think of this as Versailles.
This is a genuine compliment. For Ian, dark magic is his most talented area.
Compared to others, it's a precipitous lead.
"You don't reject black magic?"
Morgan's anxiety subsided completely after seeing Ian's reaction. She was quite curious, since black magic was always easily condemned in any era.
"Oh."
Ian chuckled softly.
He stared at the young witch before him.
"Of course I don't reject it, because I am the dark magic itself." He wasn't exaggerating, but stating the facts. His calm words stirred Morgan's heart.
I really did worship a master of black magic!
"Then, teacher, can you teach me more dark magic?" It can only be said that birds of a feather flock together; such a unique master-disciple relationship must have a deep connection of souls.
Morgan was also fascinated by dark magic.
There is no other reason.
Black magic is incredibly powerful.
In her eyes, it held a far greater potential than white magic.
"Let's start with some simple magic, the kind you wanted to learn last night, the most basic magic, the kind you need when you're out and about."
Ian spoke softly.
He raised his index finger again.
at the same time.
Morgan felt a chill run down his spine.
"Feel this killing intent, experience its allure—this is Avada Kedavra," Ian said softly.
He pressed his index finger against Morgan's forehead again.
Beside a gently flowing river.
Fish are swimming, birds are singing.
The teacher taught his apprentice his first spell.
The magic that begins the story.
On the other side of the castle.
Duke Gorojas, Duke of Tintagil, the ruler of Cornwall, sat in his lavishly decorated study, his brow furrowed, toying with a ring set with dazzling gemstones.
The window of this study is half-open, and the sunlight filtering in is cut into dappled shadows by the delicate curtains, creating a stark contrast with the somber atmosphere of the room.
"What exactly does it mean that Uther Pendragon wrote a letter specifically praising my wife?"
Gorojas sat in a high-backed chair in his study, a glass of red wine in his hand, his gaze passing through the window towards the distant mountains, or perhaps towards the direction of the royal city. The study was lavishly furnished, with portraits of ancestors hanging on the walls and bookshelves filled with precious ancient books and works of art.
However, he had no time to appreciate any of this; his brows were slightly furrowed, as if he were deep in thought. Just then, Tu Yuan's shadow appeared by the wall.
It blocked the sunlight that would normally stream into the room. Duke Goroas, however, was not surprised, but looked somewhat oddly at the indistinct figure in the shadows.
"What's up?"
He asked the question.
The figure in the shadows also answered, "Your daughter, Miss Morgan, brought three men back last night, and the knights who accompanied her were given a potion to forget their memories."
The person in the shadows, whose gender was indistinguishable from his voice, whispered about the news that Miss Morgan had brought back Ian and the other two, as well as the fate of the two knights whose memories had been tragically forgotten.
After hearing the news, the Grand Duke remained silent for a moment before speaking with some emotion, "My daughter, Morgan, she has matured so early. At such a young age, she already knows how to keep male lovers. This is truly beyond my expectations. It seems it is time to arrange for someone to give her targeted instruction."
have to say.
This might be an overly enlightened father.
Upon hearing this...
The figure in the shadows was also silenced.
He simply couldn't understand why the Duke would come to such a conclusion.
Are you out of your mind?
She was just a little girl who was only a few years old!
"Who are those three men?" Groyas swirled his wine glass, laughed for a while, then suddenly stopped laughing and became serious.
It looks like a background check is being conducted.
"Your Highness, those three are all wizards."
The figure in the shadows spoke with an unusually serious tone.
Upon hearing this, the Duke of Goroas frowned deeply.
"She really found a real wizard?" A hint of seriousness flashed in Duke Goroas's eyes. Although he was a duke, wielding immense power and wealth, he knew all too well that matters involving wizards were never trivial. Wizards' magical powers far surpassed those of ordinary people, and the slightest carelessness could lead to unpredictable consequences.
"Yes, Your Highness, all three are of unknown origin and possess extremely powerful magic. One of them, a child of about ten years old, even instilled fear in me."
The figure in the shadows clearly spoke with some inflection.
His words immediately made the Duke of Goroas uneasy.
"A very powerful wizard?"
The Duke's voice was filled with surprise and uncertainty.
"Unbelievably powerful."
The figure in the shadows gave a clear response.
This caused the Duke of Goroas's expression to change slightly. He put down his wine glass and tapped his fingers unconsciously on the table. "I need to know their background and their purpose in getting close to Morgan."
The duke had no choice but to worry.
The current situation.
He is most afraid of people with ulterior motives getting close to his family.
"This is not something we can investigate." The figure in the shadows surprisingly refused the Duke's order, his voice carrying a hint of gravity.
"You are not a wizard, and you do not understand the power of that kind of wizard, Your Excellency. Although our organization has a deep cooperative relationship with you, we are not your private army, and we will not die for your personal purposes. That kind of wizard is fully capable of killing me, and even threatening the organization behind me."
The voice from the shadows was very serious.
With extreme determination.
but.
The Duke of Goroas's expression did not change upon hearing his response.
It was as if they had anticipated this scenario.
"I'll add money, a lot of money, just like you always do." He tapped the table again, his tone carrying a hint of inhuman extravagance.
Upon hearing this...
Upon hearing the words "add more money," the person in the shadows immediately nodded, their attitude undergoing a complete 365-degree change, and their voice becoming respectful once more.
"Hail, Your Grace, the Duke! I will then wield the power bestowed by fairy tales, and under the witness of the eternal ravens, complete the task you have entrusted to me, resolve the troubles of those three foreign wizards, and protect the most dazzling jewel of Cornwall!" The voice in the shadows grew firm.
It was as if I had regained complete confidence.
This was completely different from his earlier demeanor of being wary of the powerful wizard.
"Oh."
Duke Goroas was clearly used to this. He watched the shadow disappear from his room and once again fiddled with the ring inlaid with dazzling gemstones in his hand.
"The Soul Palace, such a mysterious organization, why are they so keen on collecting gold and gems?" His eyes revealed a hint of doubt and contemplation.
My thoughts drifted back to the first time I encountered this organization.
That was the day Morgan was born.
A group of mysterious wizards came to her door, claiming to be from a hidden temple in fairy tales, and that they believed Morgan had the potential to be a great witch and needed their protection.
Duke Goroas had no idea what was wrong with these wizards, but he knew that if he paid more, they could do almost anything.
As for why he likes money so much...
The wizards simply replied, "The Lord likes sparkles." Duke Goroas was skeptical; he had encountered many clergymen throughout his life.
however.
He had never heard of any god having such a pragmatic penchant. The Duke of Gorojas believed there was more to this than met the eye, just as he felt there was a deeper meaning behind the organization's annual gift of a nice green hat, which was warm in winter and cool in summer.