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Though that sounded like a helpful hint, actually expanding his alchemy skills that far was no small task.
"You want me to… take it back with me again?" Ian wasn't trying to avoid the assignment; he was just a little surprised that Morgan didn't want to keep the mirror that had once meant so much to her.
That was the thing about bad women, impossible to figure out.
"Do I look like someone who needs to stare into a mirror every day and ask the Twilight Zone who the prettiest person is?" Morgan snorted and watched as Ian stashed the Mirror of Erised back into his pouch.
As Ian tucked the pouch back into his robes,
"Of course, I'll still need it someday. Just… not right now. In the end, it will always return to me." Morgan added one more sentence, somewhat contradicting herself again.
This made Ian sigh helplessly.
This was a perfect display of her capricious personality.
"I guess I should go check on Ariana…" Ian sensed how much time he had left and felt it was about time to escape the clutches of his hard-to-please mentor.
"Your legs are your own. You don't need to tiptoe around asking my permission on where to go," Morgan rolled her eyes and waved at Ian like she was swatting away a fly.
"If I don't ask, who knows whether my legs will still be mine after I leave…" Ian, well-acquainted with Morgan's temper, muttered to himself as he waved goodbye.
He stepped onto the winding stone path that circled the gloomy castle, walking down the steps toward the small town where Ariana lived. The castle's shadows slowly receded behind him, and the scene ahead began to subtly change.
As Ian's figure gradually vanished, seemingly swallowed by the dark forest, Morgan turned and walked back toward the castle. At that moment, the ancient Dragon slumbering atop the castle opened its eyes.
"Lady Morgan… it seems you didn't take out what was hidden inside the mirror." The ancient dragon spoke carefully, unable to contain its curiosity. It had clearly been pretending to sleep earlier, and for such ancient Dragons, seeing through magical illusions was basically factory default.
"I simply wanted to close the loop. Fooling others might be considered fun, but fooling oneself, that's what you call delight... Now get back to sleep."
Morgan glanced up at the mountain-sized dragon.
She seemed to be in a good mood.
And yet, the ancient Dragon couldn't help but shudder slightly. Strange, subtle lines began to ripple across its massive body, as if something was being sketched onto its surface.
"Well, I guess I really shouldn't have meddled. Curiosity always kills the dragon," It muttered, lying back down again, its voice low and strange.
"I don't know what's happening. I feel overwhelmingly sleepy all of a sudden. I just want to sleep… even though I'm already a dead dragon. I can still feel this irresistible drowsiness."
It genuinely seemed confused.
"Then sleep more. That's your good fortune," Morgan replied, completely unfazed, as if she had expected this reaction all along.
"Huh?" The ancient Dragon stretched out its neck in confusion, its eyes, larger than a car, filled with bewilderment. Clearly, it didn't understand how falling asleep could count as a blessing.
"You dumb dragon... you're so dumb it's hopeless. The fact that you managed to die of old age is honestly a miracle more mysterious than magic itself." Morgan's venomous tongue reached new heights when aimed at the dragon.
"I didn't exactly die of old age… I vaguely remember, when I was about to die… two old men popped out and stabbed me in the kidneys…" The dragon seemed to be protesting, though its voice was barely audible.
It clearly remembered its cause of death far better than it claimed to Ian earlier, after all, one's own death is rarely forgotten.
"I have to say… you, dumb as you are, might've just been born lucky…" Morgan sighed, then raised her hand and pointed to the stone chess pieces scattered across the grass after being toyed with by the dragon.
"Open those big eyes of yours and look closely. Inside these pieces, look at what that not-quite-right-in-the-head apprentice of mine has created."
At Morgan's words, the ancient Dragon did its best to open its eyes wide.
In its vision, there was indeed something faint hidden within the pieces. But those things weren't solid. It wasn't that its eyes were bad, just that the contents of the pieces were elusive and hard to perceive.
"This is a stone-statue version of wizard chess. It has a self-repair feature. And he even introduced his era-defining invention into it, giving the pieces the ability to play against me autonomously."
Unable to make any real sense of it, the ancient dragon simply repeated Ian's words.
It even tried mimicking his tone.
That only made Morgan even more speechless.
"Is your head, bigger than a house, just full of sponge?" The legendary Dark Witch's tone carried a trace of exasperation as she spoke.
If she had a choice, she definitely suffered from a strong aversion to stupidity.
"I… I'm just really sleepy…" The ancient Dragon timidly tried to defend itself.
It was hard to imagine a creature that massive could act so cowardly.
"It's your soul, you dumb dragon." Morgan nearly wanted to rip the ancient dragon off her castle, worried its dumbness might infect the structure itself.
"That… that's impossible!" Even though its brain was clearly struggling to keep up, the ancient dragon's drowsy eyes widened in disbelief upon hearing that. The sleepiness that had consumed it suddenly vanished without a trace.
"No magic or alchemy can create a soul, soulcraft belongs to creation alone…"
Its voice abruptly cut off as it met Morgan's calm, unblinking gaze, as if someone had grabbed it by the throat.
Shock.
Terror.
Awe.
One after another, these emotions flashed across the dragon's massive face.
Before the ancient dragon could even collect its thoughts, Morgan had already stepped back inside her castle. The witch sat back down on her long bench, lost in thought about something unknown.
After quite some time,
"If I remember correctly, the authority of the raven… is to plunder." She suddenly murmured.
Her eyes flickered as soft words echoed through the empty halls of the castle.
Mist slowly dissipated, sunlight piercing through thin clouds and casting dappled patterns onto the path ahead. The air was now filled with the fresh scent of soil mixed with grass and blooming flowers.
Ian had arrived in Ariana's area, a small town surrounded by vibrant greenery, rolling hills in the distance, and beautifully maintained gardens and quaint homes nearby.
Each building exuded a rustic warmth, and the stained-glass windows sparkled in the sun, looking charming and vibrant.
In the town square, Pandero and Ariana's figures were locked in a graceful sword duel, their blades crossing and flashing with practiced skill.
"Here to train with a sword?" Pandero called out with a smile when he saw Ian approaching.
"I'm a wizard. I'm not cut out for the suffering of meatheads." Ian replied without the slightest temptation.
"Even wizards need some swordsmanship. Otherwise, if you lose your magic or your wand, what else do you have to fight with?" Pandero's tone carried a rare seriousness.
"I've got this." Ian pulled out a Gatling gun.
'Do it yourself, and you'll never go hungry.'
It was a creation he'd crafted with his own hands; it could even shoot blue flames.
"?????"
Pandero's face turned into a perfect white guy meme of confusion.
"Is that… a firearm? It's huge!"
Ariana's eyes were instantly drawn to the big toy Ian had pulled out. Though she hadn't dropped her sword, she was clearly interested in Ian's oversized weapon.
"Why would you make something like that…" Pandero wasn't completely unfamiliar with firearms; he had plenty of connections in the Twilight Zone and had both heard of and seen such things before.
"For the sake of great adventure, of course! Pandero, I've got the largest treasure in all of Britain waiting to be unearthed." Ian was still nurturing the grand plan he'd been obsessed with for so long.
But unexpectedly,
"Adventure? Treasure?" Pandero's eyes instantly lit up.
"Count me in!" He spoke up without hesitation.
And, there was even a slight hint of pleading in his voice.
(End of Chapter)