Yet, she didn't stop swinging her sword; instead, she focused even more intensely on the training.
Sunlight cast a long shadow from her body, swaying gracefully with her movents. The air was filled with the faint fragrance of flowers and fresh grass. Occasionally, a butterfly or a bee fluttered through the blossoms, bringing added vitality and color to the otherwise peaceful square. Her diligent training continued without pause.
Sweat slid down her cheeks, dripping onto the ground below. Though she may occasionally feel like slacking off, Ariana never slacked once she started.
Focus and seriousness, those were Ariana's strengths.
But,
Pandero still didn't seem entirely satisfied.
"You need to push yourself even harder."
He let out a soft sigh.
"This is for your own good. For everyone's good."
Raising his hand toward the sky, the ornate ring on his finger glead under the sun.
"Only by truly becoming a Valkyrie... can you bear the weight of being an Angel." The boy's quiet murmur echoed gently in this tranquil town of flowers and grass.
No one heard it. No one bore witness.
Ian's thoughts slowly returned to the present.
The first thing he heard was a jumble of noise.
"Hōng lóng lōng~ hōng lóng lōng~"
The chaotic rumbles grew louder. As Ian opened his eyes, outside the window, a torrential rain poured down, its roar like war drums. Accompanied by a biting winter wind, the storm raged wildly.
It howled through the gaps of the castle, producing ghostly moans. Thunder roared in the sky, like nature itself was performing a grand, thunderous symphony.
"So it's another Mysterious Night."
Ian sat up quietly. The warm yellow glow of candlelight spilled softly from the intricately carved bedside lamp, creating a warm, golden aura that sharply contrasted with the fierce storm outside.
Of course, inside the room, his two roommates' snores weren't quiet either, but Ian had long since grown used to them and could now filter out the oddly complentary tones of their sleep.
"Legendary status, huh…" Ian's mind was still on Pandero's words. To be honest, he still understood very little about this clearly status-symbolic title.
Yes.
Even though he was already what one might mockingly call a "half-step legend," Ian remained quite confused about the path to true legendary status. It was clearly a road one had to explore alone, yet the direction was so hard to discern.
"A true legend doesn't just possess overwhelming magical power and formidable spells. Those are only the basics. There's sothing else, sothing more important, I still haven't figured out."
He whispered to himself, sensing the still-blurry image forming in his mind.
Legend.
By its very na, it refers to tales rich with poetry and mystery, filled with epic and heroic symbolism like heroes, wars, and love.
And to be a living legend requires so kind of social-level prestige. Ian wasn't entirely sure, but he did notice a common trait among all the wizards today who had the qualifications to reach legendary status.
Grindelwald's overwhelming power and authority. Dumbledore's greatness and transcendence. Even Voldemort's slaughter and the terror he inspired.
They were all the closest beings to becoming true legends, each bearing widely recognized reputations in the mundane world, nas that invoked imdiate ntal imagery and emotional response.
No one could say for certain whether such historical significance was required to beco a legend…
"Wizards who beco gods… seem to need faith. So… to truly beco a legend, one might need prestige and an epic to forge as well. Maybe that's not such a strange requirent?"
Ian suddenly felt as if sothing had clicked in his mind.
The old headmaster had been steadily building his reputation.
Maybe, just maybe, that was part of the reason.
"Perhaps I should ask Headmaster Dumbledore again… but first, I need to find Professor Nicolas Flal." Ian glanced at the clock on the wall.
12:07 a.m.
A very familiar ti.
There was still quite a while to go before morning arrived. Because of everything that had happened tonight, Ian had no desire to crawl back into bed for more sleep.
He flipped up from bed like a fish leaping from water, quickly putting on his warm clothes and robes. With practiced ease, he began his first night-ti stroll of the new school year.
Sumr break hadn't dulled his skills much.
Slipping out of the Ravenclaw common room unnoticed, Ian turned to glance at the bronze eagle knocker on the door. He was quite certain that the voice he had heard in Morgan's mories had co from that creepy thing.
"What are you looking at? Are you entranced by my beauty?"
Sure enough,
The bronze eagle knocker spoke up with way too much personality, making Ian's scalp tingle. He sucked in a sharp breath and dashed off, leaving that troubleso spot behind him.
As for "building favorability with the doorknocker"… Yeah, Ian had already decided to skip that nonsense this year.
In the deep night of Hogwarts, Ian jogged quietly through the silent, empty corridors. The ancient torches on the walls cast a dim, yellow light, while the unceasing sound of rain and thunder outside echoed clearly through the windows. Lightning flashed from ti to ti, illuminating the corridor with bursts of eerie brilliance.
"Huh? Soone's there?"
Turning a corner, Ian spotted a familiar figure; it was Lirim, the blond boy from the Ollivander family. He hadn't expected him to also be the kind of daring student who couldn't sit still at night.
"You know you lose house points for being out at night, oh, wait, you're from Ravenclaw. Never mind, I didn't see anything."
Ian was about to flex his upperclassman authority, only to realize that his threat wasn't exactly fitting.
So he fake-coughed twice…
And prepared to "selectively go blind" as he brushed past Lirim.
But at that mont,
"Aren't you also out and about instead of sleeping?" Lirim turned his head to look at Ian, speaking with a cheerful tone, totally unfazed by the fact that they were both breaking school rules.
"Is it Insomnia? Or are you haunted by dreams?" He asked jokingly, showing no sign of the nervousness a student should have when caught wandering at night.
"I'm out here to make good use of my ti and study more," Ian rolled his eyes, glancing at Lirim with suspicion. Looking at the boy who seed to have been standing there for quite a while, he asked:
"You have just started school, and you're already sneaking around at night? What, are you trying to explore Hogwarts?"
When Ian had turned that corner earlier, he'd nearly gotten a fright. Lirim had been standing still like soone being punished, facing the wall, shrouded in darkness. Just thinking about it gave Ian the creeps, especially with the storm and lightning outside. It was a seriously spooky sight.
Faced with Ian's questioning, Lirim just sighed softly.
"I just ca out to look for wand-making materials. I had so new ideas and inspirations… but clearly, Hogwarts at night isn't quite as peaceful as I had imagined."
As he spoke, and under Ian's confused gaze,
Lirim stepped aside to reveal the wall he'd been standing in front of. Right at the bend in the corridor, there were faint markings on the wall, hard to see, but vaguely visible under the flickering torchlight.
"Huh?"
Ian felt a jolt in his chest.
He raised his wand and stepped closer,
"BOOM--!"
A flash of lightning streaked across the sky outside, lighting up the night, the corridor, and,
The blood-red writing scrawled across the wall.
"I… have returned from death!"
The letters were twisted and jagged, filled with a sense of malice.
(End of Chapter)
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