The night grew deeper.
Stars glittered like diamonds across the sky, their gentle radiance shining upon an age untouched by industrial reform. The heavens above were as pristine as a breathtaking canvas.
Ian and Riddle followed Morgan through a dense forest. The stony path beneath their feet gradually broadened and leveled out. Towering, ancient trees lined both sides of the road, their branches weaving together overhead. As they ventured further, the silhouette of a grand castle erged in the distance, a majestic, ancient structure.
Its spired towers pierced the clouds, vibrant banners fluttering atop them. Compared to Hogwarts, it carried less mystery but radiated a solemn grandeur, like sothing out of legend.
"Welco to my ho, my most respected teacher." The young Morgan dismounted with a bold and dashing grace, her tone edged with a touch of prideful display.
She handed the reins to a waiting servant, ignoring the curious glances directed at Ian and his companions. With a courteous gesture toward Ian, she took the lead. Perhaps it was because she had returned to a ho bound by layers of etiquette, the little princess began to put on airs.
Her steps took on the elegance of nobility, as though each one was carefully asured. The hem of her dress swayed softly, making a faint rustle of silk.
"Kā chā~"
The great doors of the castle slowly opened.
Welcoming them were maids in elaborate uniforms. Their training was impeccable, their manners refined. Unlike the servants outside, they showed little curiosity toward Ian and his companions.
To these maids, "their little princess's people", it was nothing unusual. Their young mistress often returned with so-called wizards, though most turned out to be nothing more than charlatans.
Because of that, these maids might not excel in many skills, but digging graves and burying bodies? That they had mastered.
One maid secretly glanced at Ian, feeling a faint pang of pity for such a handso boy.
"This way. Don't wake my father and mother, they don't like it when I bring people ho." Morgan quickly noticed her maid's odd look and shot her a sharp warning with her eyes. Then, as if nothing had happened, she cheerfully led Ian and his "servants" toward her private domain within the castle.
It lay in the castle's western wing.
From here, the view opened wide, allowing one to gaze across the entire manor grounds. The splendor of the interior surpassed even Ian's imagination.
The spacious hall glowed under the brilliance of crystal chandeliers, each one a cluster of genuine crystals adorned with rows of candles. The dazzling light filled every corner.
The walls, finely plastered, were lined with exquisite oil paintings. The figures captured in them were lifelike, though motionless, the painter's skill was truly remarkable.
"Your ho is enormous. So this is what nobility looks like?"
Thick carpets covered the floor, plush and soft. Ian's steps made barely a sound. It was difficult to imagine how, in such a primitive age with such limited productivity, people could live in such luxury.
"My father is… very powerful." The young Morgan perhaps knew nothing of her family's eventual fate. What she did know was that her father, a duke, stood at the very peak of society's pyramid of power.
It was not that the future legendary witch was particularly vain, but through her conversations with Ian earlier, she understood the need to demonstrate her family's worth.
"Very powerful? That will indeed save a lot of trouble." Ian chuckled softly, responding with open frankness. He was already considering how to harness the power of this era in his search for a Ti-Turner.
As for how to deal with a duke? For a legendary wizard, there were countless ways. Still, considering the man's status as Morgan's father, Ian could hardly send Riddle to cast the Imperius Curse on him.
Of course, nobles always knew many other nobles. And if Ian happened to run into a few cruel ones, then it would be so much the better.
"Will you stay here tonight, teacher?" Morgan led Ian to a room behind a carved wooden door, its interior furnished with exquisite luxuries.
A massive bed stood in the center, large enough to fit twenty people, draped in silken bedding, with a finely crafted lamp resting on the bedside table. The space itself seed even larger than the castle's exterior suggested, a detail not lost on Ian.
Inside, it was larger than the outside.
There were obvious traces of magic. Young Morgan's claim that her family worshipped wizards was clearly no lie.
"Of course, I'm very satisfied with your arrangents." Ian was sowhat amazed at the luxury of this room, though outwardly he still had to remain calm and composed, maintaining the image of a mysterious wizard accustod to grand spectacles.
"As long as you like it, I hope you'll have a pleasant dream tonight." Young Morgan showed her sense of propriety. She could feel Ian's fatigue from the journey, so after giving a slight bow, she quietly left the room.
On her way out, she glanced back at Ian, who was gazing pensively out the window, and then took the sowhat uneasy Riddle to another chamber.
Once Morgan had left, Ian slowly closed the door. He did not admire the scenery outside, nor did he enjoy the comfort of the large bed in the room. Instead, with a hint of urgency, he imdiately pulled out his wand.
"Expecto Patronum!"
He whispered the spell, and a wisp of silver light burst from the tip of his wand. The light drifted through the air like threads of silk. More and more silver threads appeared, weaving and intertwining in midair until they began to outline a vague silhouette. The threads continued to dance, sketching a slender waist, flowing long hair, and that face he knew all too well.
"Ariana, I need your help. Ask the professor sothing for ." Ian spoke a little nervously, explaining to the slightly puzzled girl the bizarre events he had just experienced.
"This is… truly incredible!" Ariana couldn't help but exclaim, eyes wide in astonishnt. She was equally shocked to hear that Ian had encountered Lady Morgan in a past tiline.
The girl then slipped back into the wand, In reality, she is returning to the Twilight Zone.
Ian waited anxiously.
One minute.
Five minutes.
The reply he so urgently needed ca quickly. The wand activated on its own, silver threads reappearing, but this ti only to etch a line of words in the air:
"Follow history."
This wasn't Ariana's handwriting.
It was from… the Legendary Dark Witch herself. Ian was stunned, Morgan had actually put on the ring he had given her, thereby linking herself to the structure of the Patronus Charm.
"What does this an…?"
He didn't have ti to think deeply. Ian stared at the fading words, sensing so hidden aning within them, though at the mont he could not fully grasp it.
'Follow what history?'
'Is it the events happening right now? Or was the legendary witch warning him not to interfere with the course of history in the past, not to alter the birth of King Arthur? To be honest, that was indeed a question Ian himself couldn't help but wonder about.'
…
(To Be Continued…)
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