38: Gryffindor? It's a guaranteed win.

Perhaps it was not merely Ian's imagination.

After all, though the witch appeared enraged to the point of combustion, she had refrained from attacking, contenting herself with glaring at Pendero and Ariana with eyes that seemed ready to spit fire.

"Ian! We’ve come to save you!" Pendero shouted, brandishing a longsword with an aggressive air.

Perhaps it was only the more perceptive Ariana who noticed that Ian and Mara did not look like prisoner and captor within the great hall, leading her to wear an expression of shame, as if realizing they had made a grave mistake.

"Pendero... Ian doesn't look like he was taken prisoner..." she whispered, trying to warn him.

"Huh?" Pendero looked confused. "How is that possible? I heard she loves eating children!" The boisterous swordsman insisted on sticking to his own assessment.

*Clack-clack-clack.* That was the sound of Witch Mara grinding her teeth.

"I apologize, Professor. It was my fault for forgetting to find them and tell them about my situation here," Ian said, quickly stepping in to mediate once he regained his composure.

"Get your friends out of my domain!" The witch redirected some of her fury toward Ian, though her reaction suggested she was indeed deeply wary of the intruders who had breached her territory.

"Huh?" Even as slow as Pendero was, he heard how Ian addressed the witch. His eyes went blank, and his face turned visibly red. "Did I actually guess wrong?" The "old ghost" in the body of a boy was momentarily at a loss.

The scene of him standing there, sword drawn, looking around in confusion, felt almost comical. The aura of someone ready to hack everything to pieces had long since vanished.

"Ms. Mara, I am so sorry. We will help you fix this," Ariana said, bowing repeatedly to the witch, overwhelmed with shame.

"With his empty head and your ignorant little self? I’d be thanking the heavens if you could even craft a chair that didn't collapse!" Mara’s face remained dark as she turned back to look at Ian. "Make them leave! They are not welcome here!"

With that, the witch turned and stalked into the depths of the castle, her expression sour. While her gown wasn't trailing on the ground like a rag, the missing piece of fabric was quite conspicuous.

"I don't want to stay here! The monster is back!"
"So terrifying! So terrifying!"
"He’s surely plotting against us again!"

The tables and chairs all grew legs and followed the witch.

"That woman has such a temper!" Pendero complained the moment she left.

"Pendero, say less. It was our fault, after all; we damaged so much of her property," Ariana reminded him in a soft voice.

"Hmph, she tried to capture me once before, so this is just evening the score." Pendero remained unconvinced. It was clear he had crossed paths with Witch Mara before.

"I don't think Professor Mara is that bad, actually. She has taught me quite a bit," Ian said, walking curiously toward the main entrance. Only then did he get a clear look at the scene outside.

Fragments of armor were scattered everywhere, and some half-dismantled suits of armor were crawling pitifully along the ground, desperately trying to get as far away from Pendero as possible.

"Maybe, or perhaps I had a grudge against her when I was alive?" Pendero suggested uncertainly. Much like Ariana, he only remembered that he was waiting for someone here, though that person never arrived. The longer souls stayed in this mysterious realm, the hazier their memories of the mortal world became, until eventually, they forgot everything and moved on to the next leg of their journey.

"Regardless, we have definitely caused a huge mess this time," Ariana sighed, her expression anxious.

"The worst that happens is we compensate her with a giant dragon—that one we saw to the north. It looked fierce enough, and it hasn't been dead for more than a few years; it’s surely more impressive than her pile of scrap metal," Pendero said, though he was clearly just posturing and realized he had made a mistake.

"I will find a way to make it up to Professor Mara," Ian said, patting Pendero on the shoulder. He was genuinely touched by their "rescue" attempt. Regardless of the circumstances, the fact that they cared so much about his safety proved they were true friends—even if they hadn't realized that no one in the Lingering Dream could truly keep him imprisoned. Once the time came, he would be forcibly returned to the real world anyway.

"Are you learning magic under Ms. Mara?" Ariana asked with curiosity.

Ian nodded. "Professor Mara is incredibly knowledgeable; she has helped me get a head start on many other young wizards." This wasn't merely flattery.

"That’s wonderful," Ariana said, feeling both happy for him and a touch envious.

"Perhaps I could bring you some magic textbooks," Ian suggested, remembering that Ariana had always held a certain longing for Hogwarts.

"Teaching her is useless; magic has no meaning here," Pendero interjected, shaking his head with a proud tone. "It would be better to learn swordsmanship from me—cut down whatever you want." As he spoke, the boisterous swordsman gestured with his unremarkable sword. "I once cut my way across the Lingering Dream without a single rival. Even that fellow from your school... what was his name? Godric Gryffindor? He could barely trade a few blows with me!"

Good heavens! He had actually sparred with the founder of Hogwarts?

"You know Godric Gryffindor?" Ian asked, intrigued. Even though Professor Mara seemed wary of Pendero, how could she compare to Gryffindor? He was the legendary Sword Saint of Hogwarts! Although there were no records of how strong Gryffindor’s swordsmanship was, he was a legendary wizard evolving toward the level of a "Gandalf"—a typical swordsman wouldn't stand a chance against him.

"Met him a few years back, but he left soon after. That guy’s swordsmanship wasn't half bad, which is why I remember him," Pendero said, lifting his chin arrogantly. He began waving his sword again, performing a few flashy flourishes as he tried to persuade Ariana to learn from him.

"You’ve both been dead for who knows how long; isn't swordsmanship just as useless as magic?" Ian said, almost getting his little toe sliced off by Pendero's blade.

"Indeed," Ariana agreed with a helpless nod. For the souls here, they had no qualms about discussing the fact that they were already dead.

"There will surely be a time when it’s useful. Trust me," Pendero said, full of confidence.

"Err, you told me to trust you when you led me up the mountain earlier, too..." Ariana said, caught between laughter and tears.

"That’s different, that’s different," Pendero laughed awkwardly. Perhaps to change the subject, he immediately turned his bright eyes toward Ian. "Ariana told me you started learning magic, so we brought you an enrollment gift. Take a look—this is the real deal. I wouldn't waste my time on this for just anyone!"

With that, Pendero pulled something from his cloak—it was an apple, appearing as if cast from solid gold, shining with a dazzling luster even in the dim castle. It looked like a fragment of the sun left behind in the mortal world, or perhaps a masterpiece crafted by the gods themselves.