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He cut himself off mid-sentence, as if unwilling to recall old scars.
"To do what?"
Curiosity burned in Ian, and he pressed the question. Yet Merlin stayed silent, only letting out a sigh, a fleeting expression of satisfaction flickering across his face.
"I'm sure I'm not the only one who felt a touch of schadenfreude. Perhaps that bird tricked you too, which is why you ended up killing it and burying it in this empty tomb."
"Believe me, if Medivh really is your future, then this bird would have inevitably targeted you in the past," Merlin speculated.
He believed Ian had accomplished something Merlin himself could not, he had slain that shadowy raven. Judging by what he knew of Medivh's temper, this small wizard wasn't exactly gentle in the future.
He seemed as vengeful as a raven.
And when two vengeful beings meet, inevitably, one will finally be outmatched… Merlin, even without prophecy, felt he had glimpsed the truth.
Iam didn't comment either way.
"Perhaps," He murmured.
He had a feeling Merlin's guess might be wrong, but he couldn't quite pinpoint why. Just then, Merlin's gaze returned to the raven in the coffin.
"No matter what, this shadowy raven carries immense secrets. Its rank is equivalent to that of a god. Even the King of the Gods himself shows caution at its mention. Its corpse is an absolutely rare and precious material for alchemy," Merlin said with a note of awe in his voice. Yet, he didn't move to take it himself, instead signaling Ian with his eyes to claim the raven's body.
"You make it sound so valuable. Don't you want to keep a bit for yourself? No worries, we can split it. I'll take the wings, you take the neck, tail, whatever."
Ian's gaze swept over the raven. As an enthusiast of alchemy, he knew exactly how precious such a body was. Its resistance to time alone was enough to make it a pinnacle of alchemical pursuit.
"Keep it for yourself," Merlin said with a roll of his eyes, as if the world's rarest alchemy material didn't interest him in the slightest. There was even a subtle hint that the raven brought him a sense of ill fortune.
"I told you, I'm only here to find the path forward. And now… I've found the answer." Merlin wasn't after treasure, yet he seemed fully satisfied with this expedition.
"The answer?"
Ian recalled Merlin mentioning this earlier. He'd thought it was just the old wizard's survival instincts making up a convenient lie. He hadn't expected that Merlin actually found the path he sought, the direction he had been searching for all along.
"What is it?"
Even Ian felt a spark of curiosity. He was a legend, after all. And like all legends, he thirsted for further growth.
Merlin didn't answer immediately. Instead, he asked, "Have you ever wondered why you keep returning to the past in the future, constantly intervening in events tied to the gods?"
He already seemed convinced that Medivh was truly just Ian's future self.
"Uh… because I have to? It can't be love, right?" Ian guessed aloud, still thinking, but he couldn't arrive at any concrete reasoning.
Merlin, however, looked as if he had already glimpsed the future.
"That's because you've seen the road ahead. At twelve years old, a legend has both the time and the ability to seek higher levels. To become a legend, one must leave behind a story of their own, becoming a part of history. But above the Legendary Wizard…"
His tone was calm, deliberate, carrying a subtle, enigmatic smile reminiscent of a clever detective.
Ian considered this thoughtfully.
But Merlin didn't give him much time to dwell.
"In my view, you've elevated the way to achieve legend. You choose to intervene in stories of a higher order, allowing yourself to become part of myth. This… may very well be the path to godhood that you have discovered."
Merlin delivered the answer directly, at least, what he deemed a highly likely truth.
"Become a part of myth?" Ian raised an eyebrow.
It really did sound like that.
"Yes," Merlin replied, "to merge with myth, to become myth itself, perhaps that is the natural path to breaking through toward godhood. Yet one thing still confounds me. I haven't observed Medivh collecting faith, which directly contradicts what I know about the prerequisites for divinity. Without the support of belief, the Divine Fire cannot be ignited."
Having said that, Merlin fell into his own perplexity. He furrowed his brow, his expression clouded with thought, as he struggled to recall whether he had overlooked some critical piece of the puzzle.
"Uh…"
Ian's eyes flickered slightly at Merlin's words.
"Perhaps… the path beyond legend isn't godhood at all?" he murmured, a trace of uncertainty threading his voice.
"What do you mean?"
Merlin's gaze sharpened in surprise as he looked at the young wizard.
"I don't quite know how to describe it," Ian continued. "I just feel that the road ahead, as I see it now, still lies with wizards… Wizards are the ones with true infinite potential."
"My teacher once told me that wizards are akin to gods. Yet from my current perspective, the end of a wizard's path is certainly not limited to godhood. Infinite potential… after all, also implies- "
He paused for a moment.
"I am the will of Heaven itself."
Ian's phrasing was deliberately mild, cautious even.
After all, wizards are defined by the power of intention made reality, a power so profound that even in countless legends and myths, it belongs only to the one who stands at the true apex: the master of creation.
An existence whose presence, some say, may not even be known.
"Hss~"
Merlin's pupils constricted as he absorbed Ian's statement. A cold breath drew in sharply. He had always considered himself a rather arrogant wizard.
Yet in this moment, he only felt astonishment beyond arrogance, a revelation that there is no 'most arrogant,' only 'more arrogant than I ever imagined.'
"To wield authority in the name of Heaven… your courage is remarkable," Merlin muttered to himself, unwilling to fully articulate the thought. He knew no wizard should be so audacious, so recklessly bold. Were it not for the knowledge that this young wizard would one day become myth, become legend, Merlin might have felt compelled to rebuke him for such impractical hubris.
Not because Merlin looked down on Ian.
But because the more Merlin learned, the more he understood the profound truths of the world: to defy the heavens and ascend to godhood was already humanity's wildest fantasy, let alone surpassing the gods themselves.
"Not bold enough? Then what kind of wizard are you?" Ian rolled his eyes and reached toward his prize, his hand brushing lightly over the raven's body.
Residual warmth.
It lingered, as if still present.
Just as Ian reached to lift the raven's body, an anomaly erupted.
A strange surge of magical energy erupted from the raven, instantly linking with Ian's own magic. He felt as if some unseen force was tugging at him.
His magic flowed uncontrollably toward the raven's corpse.
"What's happening!?" Ian tried to sever the connection, but it was useless. Somehow, he and the raven were locked into a strange, self-sustaining circuit.
His magic…
Was automatically analyzing the raven!
"What's wrong with you?"
Merlin was startled by Ian's reaction, yet he seemed unable to sense what was happening. He simply stared at Ian, uncertainty etched across his face, raising a hand without knowing how to help.
"I…"
Ian felt his entire body stirring, his cells hyperactive, vibrating with a strange energy.
It was a sensation he had read about in Professor McGonagall's notes, a rare and extraordinary transformation.
"I'm changing!"
The realization hit him like lightning and he couldn't help but shout in alarm.
"???????"
Merlin froze, utterly dumbfounded.
Under his bewildered gaze, something incredible occurred.
Feathers began sprouting across the young wizard's body.
(End of chapter)