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The dying embers of the campfire gradually faded in the night wind.
A low, rumbling vibration filled the air, like the sound of hoofbeats, but irregular and mixed with the scraping of tal.
It was the sound of centaurs moving across the ground.
First ca one.
Then more erged from the forest. They varied in appearance, so having dark brown skin and others light bronze tones, but they all carried the sa weapon.
"Motherf...?"
Ian Prince held his breath.
The Disillusionnt Charm had blended him almost perfectly into the surroundings, but he could not suppress the shock inside him.
His gaze locked onto the centaurs, or, more accurately, the weapons in their hands.
That smooth tal body.
That familiar curved magazine.
That rough yet practical wooden stock.
If not the world-famous, reliable, cost-effective AK-47, then what else could it be?
"AK-47?!"
Ian nearly shouted aloud, his mind descending instantly into chaos.
"rlin's fattest underpants! What on earth is this supposed to be?!"
Had he fallen into an even more ridiculous, distorted tiline?
Centaurs carrying assault rifles?!
"Have I sohow crossed over into another absurd parallel universe?" He scread internally.
"The centaurs at Hogwarts are still standing around observatories chanting ancient prophecies while these guys are playing with automatic weapons?! Does the Ministry of Magic know about this?!"
For a mont, Ian genuinely felt that either he or the world had lost its mind completely.
The sheer impact of the sight before him was almost equal to discovering that history itself had been rewritten in the previous tiline.
Although the rifles were decades-old models, the contrast was overwhelming.
These creatures, who should have been carrying spears and bows and radiating ancient mysticism, were instead each holding a weapon that symbolized modern warfare and industrialized killing.
The sense of dissonance was so intense that it made him dizzy.
Just as he began to suspect that he might have experienced another failed spaceti jump, the centaurs arrived at the spot where he had been roasting at monts earlier.
"This can't be right…"
Ian desperately searched his mory of the History of Magic.
Centaurs were indeed magical creatures that typically dwelled deep within forests. They revered nature and astronomy, keeping their distance from the magical human society. They used bows and spears, viewing modern technology as 'Muggle noise'.
But the centaurs before him were different. They were heavily ard and displayed extraordinary tactical discipline.
They split into groups for security. So stood watch while others searched the area.
Their movents were as professional as those of special forces soldiers.
"There are traces of human activity here."
The leading centaur was enormous.
He spoke in the centaur language, which Ian had studied before.
His muscular upper body was covered in white tribal markings, and his bronze skin glead with an oily sheen in the sunlight. He lowered his head and sniffed the lingering scent in the air, his senses acute, as he examined the extinguished campfire. Then he nudged the ashes with the bayonet attached beneath his AK rifle.
"Damn it! My roasted at! The at I worked so hard to cook!"
Ian's heart jumped into his throat.
His wand rose slightly, ready to respond to any attack or to escape at a mont's notice.
Fortunately, his worries proved unnecessary.
Although centaurs were classified as advanced magical creatures, Ian was a legendary wizard. The centaurs seed completely unable to detect his invisible presence.
They conversed in a low, neighing language.
Although it was indeed the sa centaur tongue that Ian had learned before, the phrasing and structure were slightly different.
Ian supposed it was probably a regional dialect.
However, they seed far more interested in the half-roasted venison.
"at! Roasted at!"
One of the younger centaurs tore off a leg of deer without hesitation and began devouring it, grease running down the corners of his mouth as he grunted with satisfaction.
The others imdiately stopped searching and crowded excitedly around the food.
So carved chunks of at with knives and stuffed them into their mouths. Others took out flasks and drank alcohol alongside the venison.
"..."
So in the end, his roasted at still wasn't saved.
Watching the dinner he had painstakingly hunted and prepared being divided up among these uninvited guests left Ian at a loss for words.
Still, he did not act rashly.
He realized that these centaurs were not hostile.
At least, not for now.
They resembled an ard tribal unit more than anything else.
What intrigued him even more was this:
Why were they here?
Why did they have guns?
And who had supplied them with those weapons?
Soon enough, the centaurs packed up the remaining venison and scanned the forest one final ti. After confirming that there were no other threats nearby, they slung their rifles over their shoulders, took the at with them, and marched deeper into the forest in a loose formation.
"I need to figure out where exactly I've been thrown." Ian hesitated briefly.
Logic told him to steer clear of these dangerous, heavily ard magical creatures.
But his overwhelming curiosity and the urgent need to understand what kind of insane place this was ultimately overca his caution.
"I have to follow them."
Maintaining his invisibility, Ian moved silently behind the squad of centaurs like an unseen ghost.
The centaurs moved swiftly through the forest, extrely familiar with the terrain.
Ian had to cast Feather-Light and Silencing Charms on himself carefully just to keep up without being discovered.
After travelling for more than half an hour, the forest gradually thinned and a camp built against the mountainside ca into view ahead of them.
In the valley below, a centaur settlent could be seen.
The periter was surrounded by crude fences made of thick wooden stakes and barricades covered in thorns.
Even the watchtowers had centaurs standing guard with AK rifles.
Inside the camp, wooden huts and tents were scattered haphazardly. The outer defenses included palisades and lookout towers with mounted machine guns on top.
More centaurs moved throughout the camp.
And mixed among them were... humans?
"Thank goodness it's not one of those bizarre tilines where dinosaurs or magical creatures have replaced humanity entirely."
Ian's spirits lifted slightly as he cautiously approached the settlent.
He found a dense bush where he could observe the camp without being easily noticed, and he concealed himself there.
In the central clearing, a group of humans appeared to be conducting a trade with centaur elders.
These humans wore brightly colored robes decorated with unique tribal patterns. Their dark skin clearly marked them as natives of so African region.
However, faint magical fluctuations emanated from their bodies.
These fluctuations unmistakably identified them as wizards.
Several centaurs had piled together hunted animal pelts, magical ores, and herbs that glowed faintly with enchantnt.
anwhile, the Black Wizards opened the large crates they had brought with them.
Inside were no gold coins.
Nor magical artifacts.
Instead, the crates contained long objects wrapped carefully in oilcloth.
"Damn it! I knew there was sothing wrong with these centaurs," Ian said while narrowing his eyes.
The Black Wizards skillfully unwrapped the oilcloth coverings to reveal rows of gleaming, perfectly maintained AK-47 assault rifles.
They even opened several heavy wooden crates that were filled to the brim with golden bullets.
Hidden behind a large rock near the edge of the camp, Ian was utterly stunned.
The centaurs let out excited low neighs as they picked up the rifles and stroked them lovingly, as though they were handling divine weapons.
Clearly, this was not the first ti they had done this.
The entire process was practical and efficient.
"Wizards selling guns to centaurs?! This completely overturns the entire magical creature ecosystem!"
Ian's mouth twitched slightly.
At last, he understood where the AKs had co from. At that mont, a gust of wind carried fragnts of conversation from the center of the camp. The wizards were speaking in a hybrid language, mixing local dialects with broken English.
Although Ian had never specifically studied African languages, he could roughly understand certain keywords. As a language expert, he knew that many Earth languages shared common roots and structures.
"...next ti... need more... bullets..." A centaur elder spoke in clumsy English, gesturing awkwardly.
"No problem... sa price... exchange... for shiny stones..."
A Black Wizard, who appeared to be the leader, grinned and patted the ammunition crate beside him.
"Those bad things in the jungle are getting more and more. We need a bigger boom-boom." Another Centaur interrupted, forcefully slapping the body of his AK rifle.
"Relax, good stuff, Kalashnikov, reliable." The Black Wizard gave a thumbs-up.
"Much better than your spears..."
Listening to this absurd conversation and witnessing such surreal realism, Ian suddenly felt an almost ridiculous sense of relief.
His gaze locked onto the Black Wizard, who appeared to be their leader. While everyone's attention was focused on the weapons trade, Ian concentrated and silently activated Legilincy once again.
Magic extended invisibly, like threads, quietly slipping into the wizard's consciousness.
Ian carefully projected his will into the man's thoughts.
Due to the distance and the need for secrecy, he could not conduct an in-depth ntal reading. Instead, he could only capture fragnts of mory and active thoughts on the surface.
The images began with a vast grassland...
Africa, near the edge of the Congo Basin.
The blazing sun scorched the land. Dense rainforests stretched out endlessly, dotted with scattered tribes.
Wizards had lived there for generations, passing down ancient spells and rituals.
They lived in harmony with nature.
They coexisted with magical creatures, but over the last few decades, the world had changed.
Outside forces invaded:
Colonizers, warlords, and multinational corporations.
They destroyed tribes with guns and money while plundering resources.
Magical creatures were hunted. Sacred lands were desecrated. Traditional magic seed fragile and powerless against modern firearms.
Just as the tribes were on the brink of extinction, a great wizard discovered a 'forbidden path.'
Magic and technology did not have to be opposed to one another. He began researching ways to integrate witchcraft with modern weaponry. He cast spells to increase the destructive power of bullets.
He inscribed runes to prevent firearms from deteriorating. He even used soul magic to create 'cursed ammunition.'
Those struck by such bullets would continue to bleed until they died.
The centaurs, as guardians of the forests, possessed imnse physical strength and natural combat instincts.
They willingly allied with the wizards to resist external enemies together.
Thus, the trade began.
The wizards used magic to provide the centaurs with 'supernatural enhancents.'
These included "Strength Potions" to increase muscle power, "Hawk-Eye Charms" to sharpen vision, and "Silent Step Runes" to enable them to move silently.
Naturally, precious alchemical ingredients and potion materials were also part of the trade.
As for the centaurs, they had problems of their own to deal with, not just external threats.
The rainforests had recently beco unstable. Rumur had it that certain ancient tribes had awakened things that should never have been awakened.
The Black Wizard did not know the full truth, nor did he particularly care, so Ian could not discern the details using Legilincy. All he could discern was why the centaurs were being ard with AK-47s.
Muggles favored them for the sa reasons.
Due to their simple structure, durability, and ease of maintenance, the AK-47 had beco the ideal choice.
Wizards purchased them from black markets and warlords or magically 'summoned' them from abandoned battlefields before trading them with the centaurs.
The profits involved were enormous enough to make even xican cartels drool.
Of course, none of that interested Ian.
The most important detail among the information he obtained was a clear geographical na flashing through the wizard's mind.
Like a lighthouse shining in darkness:
Africa!
"Africa!"
Ian almost burst into tears of joy as the tension in his heart finally eased.
"Thank goodness. I'm still in Africa! I haven't fallen into an even stranger tiline!"
If this was indeed Africa, then everything made sense.
In this place, AK-47s circulated more widely than sweets, to the point where they were jokingly referred to as 'Africa's legal currency.'
Forget centaurs...
Even if Ian saw a group of Pukwudgies carrying RPG launchers, it wouldn't feel entirely impossible.
After all, these African wizards were clearly treating arms dealing as a tribal sideline, using Muggle weapons to trade with local magical creatures for precious magical materials.
Having finally clarified the most basic and important question, his spaceti coordinates, Ian let out a long sigh of relief.
Although the journey had been bizarre and twisted, at least he had not fallen into the worst possible situation.
He then continued to probe the mories of several wizards, piecing together historical fragnts that were identical to his own mories of history.
This reassured him completely.
"Though judging from the era, this seems to be around the ti of Voldemort's early rise to power..."
Ian was no longer particularly anxious.
As long as this was the normal wizarding world, his ti machine could eventually be repaired.
At worst, he could gather several Ti-Turners and perhaps even seek out Nicolas Flal.
That would work, too.
He continued to hide patiently while observing the transaction between the two African tribes co to a conclusion.
The centaurs happily carried their newly acquired rifles and ammunition deeper into the camp while the Black Wizards packed away the magical materials they had obtained and then began to Apparate away.
Crack! Crack! Crack!
One after another, they vanished.
The forest edge returned to silence once more, save for scattered noises from the centaur camp and the distant howls of wild beasts.
Glancing towards the heavily guarded centaur settlent, Ian abandoned any thoughts of approaching them for information.
Who knew how these AK-wielding centaurs would treat outsiders?
"Looks like I'll have to find my own way out of this jungle."
Ian identified the direction carefully.
Based on the fragnts of mory he had obtained through Legilincy, the Black Wizards had probably co from the east. That direction probably led towards human settlents.
After casting several protective and tracking spells on himself, he took a deep breath of the wild jungle air and started walking.
At least this adventure sounded much more normal than the previous one.
He was rely lost in the African rainforest.
At worst, the magical creatures here happened to be slightly more powerful.
Nevertheless, Ian found African wizards quite fascinating.
Just monts earlier, he had noticed sothing remarkable.
Exactly as described in the books he once read in the Hogwarts library, these African Wizards truly did cast magic without using wands.
"Using fingers as substitutes for wands…" Ian murmured thoughtfully.
"Even Wizards of relatively diocre talent can skillfully master this wandless casting technique. Perhaps there's so crystallization of civilization hidden within it that I can study."
Ian was never soone who looked down on other races or cultures.
He had always firmly believed that any civilization capable of surviving until the present must inevitably possess priceless treasures within its traditions.
He intended to carefully study the core principles behind these Wizards' wandless casting.
Perhaps after returning to Hogwarts, he could even teach similar techniques to Hogwarts' young Wizards.
"I really am overflowing with teacherly virtue."
Ian praised himself internally.
(End of Chapter)
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