8: The Wisdom Passed Down by Our Ancestors
The night was as dark as ink.
Soft moonlight filtered through the window, casting a gentle glow over the quiet bedroom. Ian’s long eyelashes fluttered open under the moon’s tender touch, revealing bright, gem-like green eyes shimmering with clarity.
From confusion to focused gaze, he returned to the present world instinctively, his eyes drifting toward the bedroom clock—unsurprisingly, the hands of the old-fashioned wall clock were frozen at 12:07.
It had been this way for years.
Every time he returned from the hazy dreamscape, the time was always the same. Though the hour hand might point to different numbers, the minute hand would invariably rest on that magically significant number.
Seven.
Ian didn’t understand the secret behind it, only knowing that every week without fail, he experienced something remarkably similar.
In the past, the figures Ian encountered in the dreamlike realm were only Ariana and the occasional Pandro. This time, however, there was an additional mysterious noblewoman witch.
“She wants me to help her retrieve a mirror she left behind in the real world…”
Ian couldn’t tell if the noblewoman witch was good or evil. Perhaps judging a soul simply by good or evil was too shallow. He was mainly curious about her identity.
A witch residing in a mysterious castle within the dreamscape.
Had she once been a renowned figure in the wizarding world? Her majestic and elegant aura was clearly not something an ordinary witch possessed.
“Was she a witch from the last century or someone active in the medieval era?”
Ian’s limited knowledge of his fantastical world came only from a few mediocre special effects movies and a handful of conspiracy-laden fan works.
Because of this,
he could only grasp a broad outline of the many mysteries hidden in this world. The only mirror he could recall was the Eris Magic Mirror, which had concealed a wizard at the story’s beginning.
A golden frame.
A mirror that could reveal one’s deepest, most fervent desires.
If the mirror the mysterious witch sought was indeed the Magic Mirror that eventually appeared at Hogwarts, Ian might have a chance to bring it into the dreamscape and hand it over to her.
“I just don’t know if I can carry such a large object there as easily as carrying candy,” Ian mused, uncertain. He had never attempted anything like this before.
To be honest,
Ian remained baffled by the strange gift he had possessed since childhood. He had never figured out why he could bring candy into the dreamscape, but not the bed he slept on.
Of course,
being able to enter the dreamscape while asleep was undoubtedly a rare talent, just as the mysterious witch in the dreamscape had said.
Ian... was special enough.
But what exactly that special meant, perhaps only the witch could answer. Ian could clearly feel how much the mysterious witch cared about this point.
“To learn magic from her…”
He had to admit,
Ian was tempted by the idea, but he couldn’t discern if her kindness was merely a facade to achieve some goal or truly related to his unique nature.
If she was truly the former owner of the Eris Magic Mirror, she must be an ancient spirit who had lived for untold years. The thoughts of an old female ghost might be even harder to fathom than those of a living woman.
“She’s also a very beautiful ghost. Zhang Wuji’s mother once commented on that.”
“I don’t need to take such a risk… I can learn magic at school anyway. The professors there aren’t necessarily weaker than an old witch in a dream.”
Reason triumphed over desire.
Ian suppressed the restless urge within him.
It was as if he carried the wisdom of his ancestors.
The Great Ying Empire had a long-standing tradition—not just their customs of knowing men well but also a peculiar culture of metal refining.
What if the witch was truly one who enjoyed toying with young boys?
Or worse, what if her idea of ‘toying’ wasn’t the kind Ian liked? This was a gamble Ian definitely did not want to take.
“Phew~ Namo Gatling Merlin Bodhisattva... I really can’t take this risk.”
After weighing the pros and cons,
Ian adjusted his pillow, closed his eyes, and slipped back into a true slumber.
In the years without the chance to learn spells, Ian’s greatest advantage of bearing wizard blood was that he could easily master lucid dreaming techniques.
...
A night full of dreams.
The next morning, Ian awoke refreshed.
In every gesture and movement,
there was a subtle air of vigor and grace—no one knew what beautiful dreams he had conjured for himself the night before.
[Successfully read Roman language, language proficiency +1]
[Successfully read Roman language, language proficiency +1]
[Successfully read Roman language, language proficiency +1]
Before the morning sun had risen, Ian was already immersed in his daily studies, always taking his skill improvement in [Language Mastery] seriously.
After all,
Ian had long harbored a hope that through this skill’s extraordinary traits, he might touch upon rare talents possessed by only a few in the magical world.
To communicate with animals.
He did not aspire to be a cross-species speaker like the serpent-tongued, but at least to understand the feelings and intentions animals expressed, like Newt Scamander.
“Of course, if I could hear the voice of all things, I wouldn’t mind either.” Forgive Ian’s eclectic literary tastes in his past life, and his dream last night where he fancied himself a mountain bandit king.
[Successfully read Roman language, language proficiency +1]
[Successfully read Roman language, language proficiency +1]
...
Just as Ian’s thoughts wandered and he had accumulated about ten points of [Language Mastery] proficiency, sudden hurried footsteps echoed down the hallway outside.
With a clatter and clang.
Someone must have knocked over something along the corridor.
“Ian! Ian! They’re here! The school teacher has come again!”
Catherine’s breathless voice sounded outside the door, accompanied by several small hands beating on it in urgent rhythm. It seemed these children cared about school more than Ian did.
...
“Visitors from Hogwarts?”
Ian was puzzled and surprised. He opened the door, and a swarm of children, nearly pressing against the doorway, tumbled into the room.
“Ian! Ian! Lady Elena is calling you! Are you going to school?”
“Will you come back? Can you bring a teacher for us too?”
“You can use your charm to enchant the female teachers!”
...
The children surrounded Ian, chattering excitedly, some remarks sounding precociously mature—the orphans often matured faster than their peers in many ways.
“Will you come back to teach us?”
Catherine, who knew the true nature of Hogwarts, looked at Ian with eyes full of hope. She clearly meant the wondrous magic.
“If I get the chance, if I can… then of course.”
Ian patted the heads of a few children beside him but didn’t dare make any real promises. Perhaps Catherine might have the chance to attend Hogwarts.
But for most, crossing that threshold was nearly impossible.
“I’ll take you to see Lady Elena!”
Catherine was ecstatic, grabbing Ian and rushing out. Though the other children were only half-aware of the situation, they eagerly followed in a swarm.
“Ian, I don’t want to go to that school anymore. I’ll just wait for you to teach me how to make candies. The teacher who came today looked just like the wicked witch you told us about!”
On the way,
Catherine leaned close and whispered in a fearful voice. Her words made Ian, already curious about which professor had arrived, tense with unease.
Looked like the wicked witch?
Very scary?
Ian felt a bad premonition.
Surrounded by many children, he soon arrived outside the headmaster’s office.
The door was ajar.
So,
Ian directly glimpsed the figure sitting opposite the headmaster, shrouded in a dark aura. Even seeing the back of the figure filled the room with tension and oppression.
Somehow reminiscent of... the dark wizard he had encountered before.
“Why him!?”
Ian’s expression was utterly baffled.
I have this big, fluffy Dumbledore!
Why did it have to be this black bat instead?!