His reply left the Brute Goddess utterly stunned. Any wizard faced with such an opportunity would find his choice incomprehensible. Yet Ian had his reasons.
Meeting her gaze, full of suspicion that he'd lost his wits to a fever, Ian only smiled faintly. "Becoming a Legendary Wizard has given me a new perspective on the future."
"I imagine that a thousand years ago, or a thousand years hence, Merlin, too, once shared Herpo's ambition. Who doesn't dream of godhood? Even the most dazzling wizard of our kind surely did as well."
"But… is that truly the right path?" Ian's voice carried a note of doubt. It sounded like a question to the goddess beside him, though it was more akin to a soliloquy.
"How is it not right? Of course it is. Merlin, well, I knew him, he was desperate to become a god. But he didn't have your luck. He never met a generous deity like me, willing to share a throne."
The Brute Goddess shot him a look of disdain, as though scolding wasted potential. In truth, what she feared most was Ian's eventual mortal death, for when he died, she too, bound to him, would perish as a short-lived god.
That was the true reason she was so willing to share her seat among the divine.
"In my era, Merlin was like a mountain no wizard could ever scale, a presence we could only look up to in awe. But now, I stand upon the same height as him."
"If he really did crave godhood as you say, then perhaps I've already glimpsed a possibility he never did." Ian's gaze fixed on the scene of destruction before them.
In his pupils, the raging flames were reflected.
"Speak plainly, no, speak in terms a god can understand."
The Brute Goddess rolled her eyes.
"I mean to keep walking the path of a wizard. I firmly believe…" Ian slowly raised his right hand, fingers spread, palm facing the burning ruins.
The movement seemed casual, yet it exuded a mysterious weight and pressure.
"Scenery no one has ever beheld lies just ahead of me." His tone was calm, unhurried, his wand now shining with a brilliance that seemed capable of overturning heaven and earth.
And then, With the faintest flick of Ian's fingers, a surge of unseen, overwhelming power rippled outward from his body. The wind halted abruptly; the ash drifting through the air froze mid-suspension, held in place by invisible force. An intangible might spread across the world.
It was the Authority of Paradox, a force that transcended time and space, that challenged the very laws of nature. In the right hands, it now revealed a power far beyond anything Herpo had ever dared to dream of.
The next moment, the wind howled, shrieking with terrible violence.
"Hōng lóng!"
A thunderous roar shook heaven and earth.
The world's colors changed. Above, the deep red volcanic ash was torn apart, as though the cosmos itself were issuing its final warning, bellowing in fury at Ian's audacity to defy nature.
"What are you doing?"
The Brute Goddess swallowed hard. Her golden robes whipped furiously in the gale, her eyes wide with bewilderment. On the other side, the Sun God trembled, his expression struck with shock.
"You…"
He began to raise his hand to stop Ian, But he was already too late.
"I am proving… that wizards can possess every possibility."
Ian ignored the warnings.
The Authority of Paradox was fully unleashed at that moment.
"Since this is my story… I prefer a true fairy tale."
Ian whispered softly.
His gaze remained calm. The catastrophe of the apocalypse still raged on, but he had already predetermined an ending.
Thus, Everything that happened in between began to lose meaning.
…
Brilliant sunlight poured over wide streets, marble paving stones reflecting dazzling brilliance. Shops lined both sides of the avenue, merchants shouting out their wares.
The air was rich with the scent of fresh bread, spices, and wine. The citizens of the ancient city, dressed in vibrant robes, bustled through the markets in their daily routines.
Laughter and chatter wove together into a lively symphony. The once-glorious city now brimmed with vitality, as if time itself had flowed backward to its golden age.
In the square where crimes had stained yesterday, fountains now splashed, children chased one another in games, and minstrels plucked sweet notes from their harps.
Songs drifted gently through the air.
Amid this flourishing scene, Ian stood in the shadow of a narrow alley. Malfoy hung unconscious over his shoulder, felled by a Stupefy, while in his hand he dragged Riddle, tied tight with enchanted ropes.
Ever since regaining his senses, Riddle had been as meek as Neville. Even when Ian bound him like a sausage, he obediently used his own mouth to help Ian tighten the knots.
Who would believe this was the once-defiant Tom?
"You're a genuine madman."
A voice spoke with both awe and exasperation from behind. Ian turned to see the Brute Goddess leaning against the wall, arms folded, her eyes flashing with lingering fear and reluctant admiration.
"This wasn't just transgression, it was blasphemy against nature itself." She vividly remembered Ian's actions the day before. It was a gamble no one would dare even imagine.
The price of failure would have been unbearable.
And such an attempt was almost certain to fail.
Yet somehow… a miracle had occurred, greater even than divine intervention.
"Perhaps so. At the very least, this city still lives. And if it's my story, then its ending must satisfy me." Ian spoke through ragged breaths. This was not the physique of a true Legendary Wizard, but the weakness of a wizard drained and overdrawn. Even so, Riddle dared not so much as roll his eyes.
"Let's go back. We need to return quickly." His heart ached for Hogwarts, for the place where he belonged, Azkaban. He felt only there could he find the peace he craved.
"Don't rush. We're almost there. I can already feel the call of time." Ian looked past the Brute Goddess. Behind her stood Cassandra, clad in a simple white gown, her eyes brimming with fervent devotion as she gazed at him.
"My lord, are you leaving?" The young girl looked up at Ian with reluctant eyes. Her gaze was as clear as a lake, her delicate face glowing with a faith deeper than that of any zealot.
"Of course. I was never meant to remain here." Ian chuckled lightly, reaching out to ruffle Cassandra's hair. He felt a rare fondness for the first person he had met in this era.
After all, Who wouldn't like a child who treated them as a god?
"Will we see each other again?"
Cassandra gathered her courage to ask, her eyes filled with longing.
"We will. Certainly, we will." Ian's hand brushed across Cassandra's brow. Where once the raven's dark claw-mark lay, it now shimmered into a dazzling gold beneath his touch.
Every story must have its final chapter.
The pull of the future began to manifest. Unlike the first time he had felt this power, Ian could now clearly perceive the strength of time enfolding him.
The flood of time surged toward him, a power that could not be resisted, nor escaped.
"See you in two thousand years."
The Brute Goddess had returned once more to her aloof, regal demeanor. Clearly, she too could feel this power as she leaned against the wall, smiling faintly as she waved to Ian.
"See you in two thousand years."
Ian's expression grew complicated. Words hovered on the tip of his tongue, yet in the end he chose silence. He could not bring himself to tell the Brute Goddess that two thousand years later she would become nothing more than a skeleton, stripped of memory.
A radiant brilliance flared.
As the light dispersed, Ian, Malfoy slung over his shoulder, Riddle bound and dragged in hand, vanished from the spot. Cassandra stared blankly at the place he had disappeared, her face filled with melancholy.
The Brute Goddess looked the same.
Yet what the two of them held in their hearts was surely not the same.
"It's time to return."
The Sun God appeared once again, silent and imperious. He gave his daughter a command filled with divine authority.
"Yes, Father." The Brute Goddess slowly withdrew her gaze.
"I never had the chance to ask him," She murmured with a trace of regret, "After he became a Legendary Wizard… what kind of scenery did he see along the path before him?"
She still found it hard to believe that history had truly been rewritten.
"Didn't he already say it? He saw Wizards," The Sun God replied, as though there were nothing strange in this answer. His eyes glimmered, his expression solemn, and his voice carried a complex weight.
"But wizards cannot accomplish all of this. Not you, not any of the other gods either." The Brute Goddess frowned. Deep within, she could not believe Ian's words. Her very cognition rebelled against such an answer.
"And yet he did accomplish it, did he not?"
The Sun God cast his gaze across the flourishing city, displaying a rare patience.
"Yes… which is why I cannot understand." The Brute Goddess sighed, troubled. She wished to seek wisdom from her father, the great Sun God. She felt she could never forget what she had witnessed the day before.
"You only saw the surface, not the essence. Naturally, you cannot understand. Child, you must learn to use your brain. It was not given to you as an ornament."
The Sun God's words were sharp, laced with frustration, as though he despaired at her lack of comprehension.
"What essence?"
The Brute Goddess still looked utterly confused. Perhaps it was her god-level mind calculating that the fastest way to get the answer… was simply to ask.
"That was the essence of his words."
In the Sun God's eyes, the entire resplendent city was reflected. At the same time, he shared this vision with his daughter.
"Child, the ancient gods have awakened."
"He walks his path through action, proving his truth with fact, that wizards are the true gods. And you, and I, and the hosts of heaven… are nothing but false gods."
The Sun God let out a quiet sigh.
"In his eyes, that is the scenery he spoke of."
In hushed tones, he voiced what he had perceived in that small wizard: that irrepressible disdain.
(End of Chapter)
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