"Oh, I see. Good, keep looking." Dylan smiled and nodded in agreement.
Peeves stood rooted to the spot, not moving.
"What's wrong? Don't feel like moving?" Dylan asked him. Suddenly, a strong sense of oppression washed over Peeves. He immediately put on a fawning smile and said, "Young Master, I certainly can't carry all these things by myself!"
"Oh, I almost forgot." Dylan waved his hand, conjuring a basket that landed in front of Peeves. "Take this. Not only can it store things, but it can also help you locate gold and silver. Go on, be quick, don't make me wait too long."
"Yes, yes, I'm going right now..."
Once Peeves turned and walked into the storeroom, Dylan settled back into his chair, holding Ravenclaw's Diadem, and began examining it carefully.
His slender fingers absently rotated Ravenclaw's Diadem, one of the legendary relics of the four founders. A deep blue gem shimmered with a serene, dim glow under the candlelight. The silver inscription "Wit beyond measure is man's greatest treasure" along the edge cast fragmented shadows on the back of his hand as the diadem swayed.
"A relic that can actually clarify my wisdom." As Dylan's fingertips touched the cold metal, a subtle magical vibration traveled up his palm. This diadem, it seemed, wasn't just a simple relic; it was a magical artifact imbued with power. Even with just a simple touch, Dylan could feel a gentle magical aura spreading from his palm. His mind felt as if it were being gently caressed by invisible hands, which then softly smoothed out his tangled thoughts. The trivial distractions that had previously swirled in his mind dissipated like morning mist, replaced by an unprecedented clarity.
The diadem's surface glowed with a soft silver light, and tiny magical currents flowed up his arm. Dylan found that his mind also became more active. Spell theories that might normally require repeated contemplation now automatically connected into complete pathways in his mind. Various ideas, like birds breaking free from their cages, swiftly and lightly flitted across the expanse of his consciousness. Every thought was sharp and clear; he could even precisely track the trajectories of dust motes suspended in the air.
"Does this artifact give me a percentage boost to my attributes? How come all the mental and magical attributes the system added to me before didn't feel like this?" Under the influence of this magical power, Dylan felt his mental state reach an unprecedented fullness. His taut nerves were gently calmed, and all fatigue vanished.
"The relics of the four founders have such wonderful uses." He smacked his lips. Should he have gotten the Sword of Gryffindor sooner too? "At the very least, before I graduate, shouldn't I inherit the legacies of the four houses?"
When he first started at Hogwarts, Dylan had considered whether to go to Ravenclaw to see what kind of legacy a house symbolizing wisdom could offer. Now, he wasn't particularly eager for the legacies of the four houses. However, he imagined that the founders' legacies would surely provide him with more new knowledge than the teachings of Professor Flitwick, Professor McGonagall, and others. After all, they were magical giants from centuries ago.
"Hmm, truly worthy of being the symbol of wisdom. Just touching it makes one feel the wondrous power of the fusion of knowledge and magic. I just wonder if the so-called legacy is unlocked with this diadem as a key, or if it's hidden elsewhere."
All these years, he hadn't heard of anyone inheriting the founders' legacies. Only Slytherin created a shoddy Chamber of Secrets and kept a Basilisk that could only eat tiny sewer rats. And Slytherin didn't create such a thing for the sake of a legacy. It was so that a chosen successor could complete what he hadn't.
Actually, it's quite comical. Something you, one of the four founders, couldn't accomplish. Yet you expect a descendant centuries later to complete it. To help this descendant, you even used dark magic to raise a Basilisk. But what good is one Basilisk? If you're going to raise monsters, you should at least add three to five zeroes after the number, right? It was purely a wasted effort.
But it's all good now; the Basilisk directly benefited Dylan. Dylan hasn't encountered another Basilisk to this day, so the one he keeps in his space is now being well-cared for. Except that now and then, it gets a bit of blood drawn, some flesh cut, and some scales and horns broken off. It sounds cruel, but it's not gentle at all. Even so, Dylan thinks it's much better than directly blasting the Basilisk into pieces and letting its corpse rot.
Holding the diadem in his hand, Dylan didn't completely let down his guard. His wand remained gripped, ready to respond to any sudden changes. After all, this diadem had been made into a Horcrux by Voldemort. Who knew if it would suddenly cause trouble for him? However, since there's no power currently replenishing the diadem, unlike how Ginny continuously supplied the diary with vitality, allowing the little Voldemort to take advantage, this diadem, resting quietly in his hand, likely couldn't stir up much trouble for now.
Swish.
Dylan raised the diadem towards the candlelight, observing the faint, almost imperceptible dark purple aura at the gem's joint, flickering in and out of existence in the flame. —This familiar color. It was identical to the one on Tom Riddle's diary he held.
"I wonder if the key to unlocking Ravenclaw's legacy is this diadem. Did Voldemort already obtain all the founders' legacies before this?" Dylan raised an eyebrow, his wand twirling deftly in his fingers.
"Protego!" (Shield Charm!)
With the low incantation, a translucent, dome-shaped barrier suddenly expanded around Ravenclaw's Diadem. It shimmered with a silvery glow, suppressing all the dark purple magical fluctuations on the diadem's surface within.
"Expecto Patronum!" (Patronus Charm!)
"Ye-oh!"
The silver light bursting from the tip of his wand instantly illuminated the entire room. A Poro, resembling a Pixiu, materialized from the flames, emerging from the spiritual plane. Its fluffy fur rippled with flowing starlight. Its round body lightly leaped up, then opened its small, sharp-toothed mouth, intending to bite the diadem.
Dylan immediately stopped it. "Wait a moment! Just shield it."
The Poro instantly closed its mouth. "Ye-oh~" Its tail, like a shooting star, swished back and forth, tracing intricate golden patterns on the surface of the spell-formed barrier. Each ray of light made the Shield Charm's ward even more solid.
Just then, the diadem suddenly began to tremble violently. Dylan eyed it askance. He saw blood-like liquid seeping from the silver inscription on the diadem's edge, along with wisps of black energy floating out, attempting to corrode the protective barrier.
Dylan snorted softly. "So, you're still conscious after all." This blood and black energy were manifestations of magic. They looked like living things, snaking and rising from the surface of Ravenclaw's Diadem.
In reality, this object was filled with the negative emotions of hatred and despair, condensed from the innocent victim's dying moments when Voldemort created the Horcrux.
If absorbed by an ordinary person, it could easily drive someone with a fragile mind to madness!
Even those with strong minds would be affected if these negative emotions eroded them.
However...
Dylan lowered his gaze to the black and blood-red mist swirling on the diadem's surface.
A calm smile played on his lips.
"If that's all it is—"
With a flick of his wand, the barrier locking the dark energy instantly opened a gap.
The black mist, laden with the wails of wronged souls, immediately surged out.
But before it could fully disperse, it was drawn in by an invisible suction.
Like a flock of crows returning to their nest, it rushed towards Dylan's slightly flared nostrils.
With a gentle inhale, even the dark purple blood beads seeping from the diadem's edge transformed into tiny streams.
They snaked down from the void, twining around him, and completely vanished into his nasal passages.
The power of the Dementor flowed within him.
Dylan felt the malice, despair, and fear twisting and restructuring within his chest, transforming into pure threads of vitality and magical power, nourishing his body.
Dylan's body glowed with a faint blue light.
Although the skin previously touched by the black mist hadn't been harmed, it now became even smoother at a visible pace.
Even his eyebrows seemed to gain a vibrant glow.
When the last trace of black energy dissipated, Dylan idly rotated the diadem.
The silver inscription on the metal surface reflected his indifferent expression.
It was as if the evil power he had just devoured was nothing more than the morning mist, utterly insignificant.
At this moment, the diadem, having unleashed a wave of death energy, felt depleted.
Its already unremarkable glow became even dimmer.
It seemed as if the diadem was utterly bewildered, watching its attack not only being easily blocked by Dylan but also witnessing him completely absorb the very death energy it used to attack!
"That's all it's got? Can't you give me more?"
Dylan calmly tightened his grip. Beside him, Poro, the Pixiu, lifted his small neck and let out a "deafening" roar.
"Ye-oh~!"
Dylan's mouth twitched, his calm expression cracking slightly.
He shot a sideways glance at the little creature. "Alright, alright, your call is worse than silence. It has no presence at all."
"Ye-oh?"
Poro looked at Dylan, then blinked its eyes, looking incredibly wronged. It shrunk its body, and its fluffy big head drooped dejectedly.
Watching Poro squatting in mid-air, its fluffy tail wrapped around the protective barrier like a chain, Dylan chuckled.
"Alright, alright, just call if you want to. I actually think it has a bit of presence."
"Ye-oh?"
Poro raised its head, its eyes mismatched, looking askance at Dylan.
Its little expression seemed to say—Really?
"Really, really," Dylan humored.
The little Pixiu instantly perked up.
It immediately stood up and started calling "Ye-oh, ye-oh!"
Dylan paid it no mind and continued to look at the diadem in his hand.
Those negative emotions just now might have been deadly poison to ordinary people.
But for Dylan, who possessed a non-existent ability, they were a great tonic!
The resentment Dylan had just absorbed made him feel as though his physical vitality had significantly increased.
"As expected of a Horcrux made by Voldemort and kept in this dark, sunless place for so long, the resentment is truly abundant—hmm, delicious!"
Dylan smacked his lips.
Before, he had only absorbed some happy emotions from others, which, while satisfying, didn't compare to the pure despair, which held even more allure for him.
"It seems the power of the Dementor might have many more uses..."
The death energy just absorbed by Dylan transformed into life force, nourishing his body.
This life force, which could be called vitality, not only allowed Dylan to repair his body but also enabled him to "rejuvenate."
In a sense, Dylan had truly achieved immortality.
Moreover, against an attack like Sectumsempra, even without a counter-curse to dissolve it, pure life force could be used to fill in and compensate for the damage caused by the attack.
That was one aspect.
Furthermore, minor issues like malignant lesions, bodily injuries, and even skin discoloration, hair loss, or acne could be continuously repaired, bringing the body to perfection.
Dylan gently tapped the diadem with his wand.
Perhaps sensing Dylan's disdain, the diadem trembled and squeezed out a tiny bit more black energy.
Not a single drop of blood remained, though.
Dylan pouted, a bit disgusted, but still swallowed it in one gulp.
Just then, Peeves flew over, carrying the basket Dylan had given him.
Upon seeing Dylan absorbing extremely malicious negative emotions, his eyes nearly popped out of his sockets.
Wait a minute!
What just happened?
This little human wizard is using Dementor power?!
Oh, grandma!
That's terrifying!
This little wizard can not only make Dementors bow to him, but he also controls their abilities?
Is this guy even human?!
Peeves had long found Dylan very strange.
He could freely control spirits.
He could freely control him.
Even Dementors were his subordinates!
And now he had even mastered Dementor abilities!
If this guy was human, Peeves would eat his own hat!
Peeves' "awe" for Dylan grew even deeper.
He quickly held the basket full of miscellaneous items in front of him with both hands and flew over eagerly.
"Great Young Master, please take a look! These are all the things this basket guided me to find. Whenever I got close to a spot, it would light up, so I brought back everything it flashed over. Do you think any of these are valuable?"
Seeing Peeves return, Dylan set down the now-useless diadem, from which not even a single drop could be squeezed, and glanced at the contents of the basket.
Even with the Undetectable Extension Charm, Dylan could only roughly see what was inside.
Some old, seemingly useless junk.
Some colorful but dusty gemstones.
And some peculiar small trinkets.
Dylan wasn't overly concerned about what treasures Peeves might bring him. He simply took a glance and nodded.
"Did you get everything back?"
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