Outside the room, Lucius was anxiously pacing back and forth, seemingly hesitating whether to knock. After all, Ciel had been in that room for three full days with almost no movement. He even suspected Ciel had encountered an accident while researching some profound magic.
Fortunately, just then, the door opened. Ciel's familiar figure emerged from the room. Lucius finally breathed a sigh of relief, his face showing joy as he looked at Ciel, about to speak.
However, the next second, his expression suddenly turned deathly pale. What came toward him felt like an unsheathed sword mixed with the smell of blood. Just meeting Ciel's gaze once made Lucius feel like he was facing the most vicious Death Eater, instinctively stepping back two paces before steadying himself.
Ciel then noticed Lucius's reaction and realised—was the killing intent from his recent illusion battles still lingering? His expression showed some apology, "Sorry, Mr Malfoy. I got a bit too absorbed studying swordsmanship these past few days."
Lucius wiped his cold sweat, forcing a smile, "No problem, no problem." But his heart was already in tumult. He didn't believe for a second that Ciel was simply studying swordsmanship in his room. Just looking at parchment to practise swordsmanship could accumulate such killing intent? Impossible.
His mind filled with wild speculation. Perhaps these past days, Ciel appeared to stay in his room but had actually left Malfoy Manor to experience bloody slaughter? Then he thought: "Could it be Borgin? That's right. With Borgin's personality, how could he show no reaction for so many days after having his business stolen? But this time, Borgin made no moves. That could only mean a fierce confrontation happened privately, and Borgin backed down!"
Having imagined all this, Lucius grew increasingly in awe of Ciel. So young yet unfathomable—the makings of a Dark Lord!
Ciel sensed Lucius's reverent gaze but felt somewhat puzzled. However, he didn't dwell on it, instead asking, "Mr Malfoy, did you need me for something?"
Lucius snapped back to reality, hurriedly and respectfully presenting a letter, "This letter just arrived today."
He took the letter and glanced at it, his face showing some joy. This was clearly sent from the Sprout family estate, written by Professor Sprout. His eyes flickered. Professor Sprout had previously said she was going to the International Herbology Association to discuss holding the herbology exams in London.
After so long, he had thought something went wrong. If there was still no news in a few more days, he'd probably ask Dumbledore what was happening. Now Aunt had finally returned.
After opening the envelope, Professor Sprout's familiar handwriting appeared, but the content left him somewhat confused. Something very important—but he didn't need to rush back immediately; he just needed to return to the Sprout estate by tonight. The letter didn't specify what exactly.
"This isn't Aunt's style—" Looking at this letter, his confusion deepened. However, he was certain this wasn't forged—it was definitely Professor Sprout's handwriting. Whatever happened might be inconvenient to explain in a letter. He'd probably know once he returned to the Sprout estate. Besides, he'd been at Malfoy Manor for several days already—it was time to return.
He then told Lucius he was leaving. Lucius nodded repeatedly, not asking about the letter's contents at all, afraid of getting entangled in something troublesome. He just quickly said, "The Thestral carriage is ready. It can take you to the Sprout estate anytime."
After pondering briefly, he waved his hand, declining Lucius's kindness, "I still need to go to Knockturn Alley. The Thestral carriage is too conspicuous—better use the Floo Network."
Hearing "Knockturn Alley", Lucius's heart skipped a beat. It matched up. Everything matched up. His guess was right. Ciel must have secretly done something major in Knockturn Alley these past few days, making Borgin no longer dare pursue the stolen business. Maybe Borgin was even working for Ciel now!
Lucius took a deep breath, not daring to say another word, only, "There's Floo powder by the fireplace in the room. You can go directly to Knockturn Alley from here. I won't see you off then?"
After he nodded, turned, scattered Floo powder and disappeared into the fireplace, Lucius finally let out a long breath, wiping his forehead's cold sweat. Then his spirits lifted, lips involuntarily curling into a smile. Though the Malfoy family never prided itself on powerful dark magic, no one could match them in assessing situations.
A strong premonition told Lucius that his and the Malfoy family's investment in Ciel might bring unimaginable returns in the future.
Meanwhile, after spinning dizzily, Ciel emerged from Borgin and Burkes' fireplace. Borgin was already waiting there. Now wearing a black hooded robe, the traces of shadow magic erosion were almost invisible. Borgin and Burkes continued operating normally without anyone noticing anything unusual.
Then Borgin took out a package, carefully handing it to him. Seeing this package, his eyes flashed with fervent colour—inside were items sent by the Moser Club. Especially the Divine Joy Flower seed, which had extraordinary value to him.
However, he didn't rush to open it, first carefully inspecting it to ensure no magical traps or hidden magical marks. Not stopping there, for insurance, he had Borgin open the package. This way, even if some unpredictable means existed, they'd fall on Borgin. Borgin was already dead anyway—it didn't matter if he died again.
Fortunately, his various worries didn't materialise. The Moser Club hadn't tampered with these packages. Apparently for outer members, the Moser Club felt Elixir of Life imitations were sufficient control to make them obediently serve, requiring no other methods.
This let him relax as he inspected the package contents. First was naturally the Divine Joy Flower seed, which looked exactly like what he saw on the crystal ball, with purple reward information floating above it—representing an Epic-level plant.
Seeing the Divine Joy Flower seed had no issues, he finally relaxed, his gaze turning to that ancient herbology book. Flipping through roughly, it recorded nearly a thousand ancient plants—an ancient version of One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi. Most plants he had never heard of despite his current herbology mastery.
As for authenticity, that was easy to verify. He turned to the Whomping Willow page he understood best. The recorded information didn't differ much from his understanding, even including details he hadn't previously known. Credibility was high.
He nodded repeatedly, showing satisfaction. This ancient herbology book would undoubtedly greatly benefit his future research on cultivating various ancient herbs. He still had an ancient seed from Boge Charman, and he didn't even know what plant it was. When he had time, he could search in this ancient book—maybe there'd be surprises.
Finally, he looked at that set of silver-gleaming, extremely exquisite alchemy tools occupying the package's largest space—small shovels, strainers, tweezers—over twenty practical herbology tools, truly complete!
His eyes showed joy. This tool set was most suitable as Professor Sprout's birthday gift. And the moment this thought crossed his mind, he suddenly froze. He'd been thinking about Aunt's birthday, but later, due to three days immersed in illusion battles with Gus, he'd been absorbed in killing and reviewing.
Three days passed—when was Aunt's birthday again? Then he slapped his forehead. He knew why Aunt wrote saying today was important and he must come to the Sprout estate tonight.
"Foolish. Today is Aunt's birthday. Almost forgot."
He quickly asked Borgin, "Does the shop have gift boxes? The kind suitable for gifts?"
Borgin nodded woodenly, turning to retrieve box after box, "These are all custom-made. This one is made entirely from ground human bones, smooth and natural. Especially this skull in the box's centre—high-end and atmospheric. If you want to give it to young people, how about this trendy toad-skin box? Unique spots and colour-block stitching design—I think it has a premium feel—"
He looked at these boxes Borgin produced, saying nothing, just his lips twitching. He felt he must truly be sick to expect Borgin and Burkes—a place specialising in dark magical items—to produce any decent gift boxes.
"I remember Knockturn Alley and Diagon Alley aren't far apart. In the original story, after Harry accidentally entered Knockturn Alley, Hagrid quickly brought him out directly to Diagon Alley. There should be normal gift shops there."
He checked the time—already 2 PM. Gift wrapping, right, and buying a birthday cake. Time was tight—he needed to move quickly.
He then quickened his pace, leaving Borgin and Burkes, heading toward Diagon Alley. But just a few steps away, he frowned, cold light flashing in his eyes. Malice emanated from every Knockturn Alley shadow. Every hooded figure seemed to glance at him strangely under their hoods.
Obviously, young wizards rarely came here—this was notorious Knockturn Alley after all. Various human organs were excellent dark magic materials, especially young wizards—supreme quality for most dark magic. If not for the Ministry recently cracking down hard on dark wizards and dark magic, dark wizards would have approached him already.
He frowned, ignoring these dark wizards with thieving hearts but no courage. Firstly, he was still rushing to purchase Professor Sprout's birthday gift. Secondly, fighting these dark wizards offered no benefit. As long as they weren't stupid enough to provoke him, he'd spare them.
Then he quickened his steps through dim, dilapidated Knockturn Alley. Those hooded dark wizards indeed lacked the courage to attack him now, but greed made them follow distantly, drooling gazes constantly trailing him, with whispered conversations emerging:
"He came from Borgin and Burkes. Must be a rich young master. Delicate skin, superior bloodline—probably carrying lots of Galleons. Just that premium appearance would attract wealthy dark wizards to collect, right? Letting him go like this—such a pity, too much pity—"
As he neared Diagon Alley, such whispers increasingly reached his ears. He slowly gripped his wand in his sleeve, killing intent flashing in his eyes. He could feel dark wizards unable to resist taking desperate risks.
Obviously, dark magic severely damaged their rationality, leaving them without sufficient patience or judgement ability.
Just then, a door in a nearby low, dilapidated building creaked open. A figure also wearing a black hood, face unclear, quickly emerged, blocking between him and those dark wizards.
Then this figure scattered seeds while waving a wand. Those seeds immediately began twisting and growing. In moments, dense vines and giant Venus flytraps formed a wall, blocking the narrow alley.
This figure then hurried toward him, a clear, young voice emerging from under the hood, "How did you wander into this place? This isn't where a young wizard should be. Quick, Diagon Alley isn't far—go that direction a few more steps and no one will dare follow you."
But he seemed frozen in shock, not moving. This figure grew anxious, simply grabbing his arm and running toward Diagon Alley. After seeing Gringotts' magnificent spire, this figure finally relaxed.
Then he seemed to wake from a dream, thanking his rescuer. This figure casually waved it off, turning back into that darkness. But within, the figure turned to look at him once more, seeing this frightened young wizard still standing there dazedly, showing a helpless smile:
"This child—such timid. Probably Hufflepuff, right? Don't know how he entered Knockturn Alley. If not for meeting me today, his flesh and blood would've been taken by those dark wizards for dark magic experiments."
Then this figure quickly left. His eyes churned with astonishment. That hand using plant seeds for spellcasting—he'd seen it before with Boge Charman. Undoubtedly dark magic transfiguration combined with herbology skills.
But what he just saw far surpassed Boge Charman's mastery. This direction combining dark magic transfiguration with herbology should be extremely niche in the magical world. As far as he knew, only one person fit these conditions—Ed, whom he'd been trying to find. Or according to materials seen at Malfoy Manor, Ed's full name should be Ed Robinson.
But from that brief glimpse, he discovered under the hood was the delicate face of an eighteen or nineteen-year-old girl.
"So Ed should also be a false name. Never expected Ed, who shocked the herbology world, to actually be an eighteen or nineteen-year-old girl."
He took a deep breath. What a coincidence. Technology exploration using dark magic transfiguration to modify plant seeds could finally have clues. But not today—he'd find opportunities later.
Silently recording Ed's appearance and that small building's location, he left gloomy Knockturn Alley for Diagon Alley. Suddenly, the oppressive air became fresh. Bright sunlight shone on high red-tiled roofs and solid, flat brick roads. Just a few minutes—like changing worlds.
His already good mood from finding Ed's clues grew even more pleasant. Now he needed to quickly find a shop to wrap Professor Sprout's birthday gift.
Just then, a delighted voice came from behind, "Ciel?!"
He turned to see two pigtails bouncing out from the crowd. Hannah excitedly looked at him, "I heard you stayed at Hogwarts for summer vacation. Thought I wouldn't see you until near school start. Ciel, have you eaten? Come sit at the Leaky Cauldron—I'll give you the best meal set."
He also looked at Hannah with joy but shook his head at the Leaky Cauldron invitation, instead asking, "Hannah, do you know which shop sells high-end packaging gift boxes? The kind suitable for giving witches on birthdays?"
Hannah immediately froze, showing loss and nervousness, "Are you attending a birthday party? Which house? I haven't heard of any Hufflepuff girls having birthdays recently—none in first or second year. Is it an upper-year student? Or another house—is it Hermione Granger?"
Only after he said it was Professor Sprout's birthday did Hannah visibly exhale with relief. Now she seemed even more enthusiastic, "I know one! They have handmade gift boxes and can make very beautiful ribbon bows. The butterflies on top are magically enchanted—they really flutter!"
Hearing this, he showed joy, then followed Hannah to that gift shop she mentioned. The shop owner was a witch in her thirties with lingering charm. When they entered, she was leisurely enjoying small cakes and tea.
Even when customers entered, she reluctantly put down her cake, standing to receive them. After conversing and learning he was from the Sprout family preparing a birthday gift box for Professor Sprout, the shop owner exclaimed, "Merlin above! Today is Professor Sprout's birthday? I completely forgot."
While speaking, she deftly produced various magical ribbons and gift boxes decorated with exquisite crystals and silk, "Come, child. Quickly give me your prepared gift."
After seeing him retrieve those silver-gleaming alchemy tools from the package, the shop owner admiringly said, "Beautiful! These are herbology tools, right? Indeed most suitable—the Professor will definitely be happy. But let me think—birthdays can't lack cakes and candles. I guess you didn't have time to prepare, right?"
Then she repeatedly instructed Hannah, "Little Hannah, quickly go to Honeydukes for the best frosting. Then go to the ice cream shop at the corner across from Gringotts—have them make ice cream magic candles. I know they can. Tell them it's for celebrating the Professor's birthday. And freshly baked cake bases—I know where to get the best. You must hurry."
"As for you, little Ciel, these precious alchemy items can't leave your sight—stay here."
He looked at the shop owner assigning Hannah tasks in astonishment, "Um—this is?"
The shop owner playfully winked, "Oh, little Ciel. You might not understand now, but after graduation you'll know one thing—we Hufflepuffs are everywhere. Powerful lions all independently form prides after graduation. Lofty eagles all live in isolation. As for snakes, they're inherently scheming. Only we Hufflepuffs—you can always get help from other badgers. Professor Sprout was once my Head of House too—of course we all must contribute."
While speaking, the shop owner waved her wand. Those ribbons immediately wove into knots with incredible dexterity, decorating the gift box. Simultaneously, glowing butterflies fluttered, landing on ribbons to become unique bows. Each alchemy tool was thus exquisitely wrapped and placed in gift boxes.
During this process, Hannah was like a diligent bee, conscientiously fetching various items the shop owner mentioned. Everywhere she went, she gained more clues—like receiving one quest only to receive three more.
When Hannah finally returned, breathless with face red, she held a tightly wrapped three-layer cake and a large stack of greeting cards.
The shop owner then finished wrapping the last small shovel, placing it in the exquisite gift box, looking at him somewhat proudly as if saying: See? I was right, wasn't I?
His gaze first showed astonishment, then warmth, sincerely thanking them—especially Hannah, who'd helped him so much today and was nearly exhausted.
Hannah's face grew even redder, stammering, muttering a while, looking like she wanted to say something but didn't dare. Finally, the shop owner showed an amused smile, "If I'm not mistaken, little Hannah wanted to invite you to go shopping when you're free. Let's see—how about before school starts? You'll have lots to buy and need to spend most of the day."
Hannah exhaled with relief, looking at the shop owner gratefully. He nodded, "Alright. We'll contact you by owl then, or I'll come directly to the Leaky Cauldron to schedule a time."
After Hannah nodded repeatedly, he looked at the darkening sky outside, hurriedly taking the cake, greeting cards, and his prepared gifts, and leaving the shop.
Before leaving, he took out a handful of Galleons, waving his wand with lightning speed. The Galleons immediately floated to the counter, neatly stacking. Then his figure quickly disappeared from view.
The shop owner looked at these Galleons—her refusal hadn't even left her mouth before he was gone. She opened her mouth, face full of helplessness, "This child—truly worthy of being our Hufflepuff, so kind."
Then the shop owner carefully put away the Galleons, "Hehe. Now I have money to attend Mr Gilderoy Lockhart's book signing!"
In the darkening sky outside the Sprout estate, he descended from his broom carrying cake and various gifts. He didn't use the Floo Network, fearing the spinning might ruin the exquisite decorations. His broom was actually more stable.
Also, Floo Network meant emerging from the fireplace—no surprise of knocking first then entering. Checking the time, he relaxed slightly, "Made it. Not too late—still dinner time."
Then he walked toward the Sprout estate. But soon he frowned. From afar, he noticed the estate's abnormality. It was so late—the sky nearly completely dark—yet the estate had no lights?
This shouldn't be. House-elves definitely wouldn't neglect this. Moreover, Aunt Sprout's letter said she'd returned and tonight had important matters to discuss. Why was the estate pitch-black? Did something happen?
Thinking this, his expression instantly became grave, gripping his wand, even preparing to draw Grønir's Blade. His eyes flashed with cold light and killing intent. If someone infiltrated the Sprout estate and did something to Aunt, he swore to make them understand consequences.
The next moment, he silently reached the door, wand lightly waving. The door silently opened. At that instant—pop!—the estate suddenly became brilliantly lit. Ribbons fell from above at the entrance.
Professor Sprout's figure emerged from behind the door, giving him a big hug, "Child, long time no see. Were you surprised?"
He looked at everything in astonishment, "Aunt, this is…?"
Professor Sprout showed an unsurprised expression, "I knew you'd forget. Child, tomorrow is your birthday. This is a big deal—how could you forget?"
Speaking, Professor Sprout showed a sad expression, "That year today, little you were born. Your father and mother were so happy. That was a great day for the Sprout family. So many years you never celebrated birthdays—this year is your first birthday at the Sprout estate. I'd never forget."
Then Professor Sprout took out an exquisite box. But she also noticed his cake, cards, and gift boxes. Now the Professor looked astonished, "Hmm? This is?"
He sighed, looking helplessly at Professor Sprout, "Aunt, you're talking about me? I indeed forgot tomorrow is my birthday. But you forgot more—isn't today your birthday? Aunt, happy birthday."
Professor Sprout stood there dazed, face flushing, "Ah, my birthday is today? Hey, actually my birthday isn't important—I'm already so old, why celebrate birthdays…"
He passed over the gift box, "Aunt, open the gift?"
Professor Sprout then fumblingly yet carefully unwrapped the gift box, afraid of damaging the decorative ribbons, seemingly wanting to collect the box too. When she saw those silver-gleaming alchemy items, undisguised delight showed on her face, "Such wonderful little shovels. Merlin above—they're so beautiful!"
Then Professor Sprout handed him her box too, "Though it's not midnight yet, I really can't wait anymore. Ciel, happy birthday to you too."
He unwrapped the package, surprisingly discovering a seed as dazzling and beautiful as a gem—a seed he knew well. This was precisely the Ember Fern seed he'd discovered during his first landing on Sprout Island.
But then, that Ember Fern seed had only remnant vitality left, requiring another volcanic eruption to possibly recover. Then he seemed to realise something, noticing Professor Sprout's scorched clothing hem and burn ointment on her arms, "Aunt, you were late returning by several days—did you go find an active volcano to revive the Ember Fern seed?!"
Professor Sprout laughed dryly, "I was worried about what gift to prepare. On the road I happened to hear about a volcanic eruption and thought of this precious Ember Fern seed—don't you like it?"
He took a deep breath, treasuring the Ember Fern seed, "Aunt, this is the best birthday gift I've ever received. Thank you."
Professor Sprout finally relaxed, "Good that you like it. Come, let's go inside and eat cake. Today's birthday must be celebrated well."
But half an hour later, he looked at Professor Sprout, who hadn't even finished one piece of cake before falling asleep at the table, sighing. This should be from finishing Herbology Association business and then rushing non-stop to volcanic eruption sites to revive Ember Fern seeds, being busy for days before returning to prepare his birthday. Who knew how many days without proper rest?
He had house-elves help Professor Sprout back to her room, then exhaled softly, walking toward the Sprout family greenhouse. Upon entering, countless reward orbs filled his vision. The new Margaret batch had matured.
Moreover, since he selected the most excellent varieties when planting this Margaret batch, the reward orbs above were slightly larger than last harvest—obviously containing rewards that, though still Iron-level magic enhancements, were more effective than before.
But when he touched them and countless reward orbs flooded his body, the feedback greatly mismatched this display. Originally Gold-level magic strength, even after harvesting an entire Margaret batch, still hadn't reached Platinum level—merely showing many platinum-coloured light specks.
This made his expression quite unpleasant. Effectiveness decay is more serious than I estimated. Especially at this qualitative change from Gold to Platinum level. Iron-level rewards are really too poor. Though with Water Enhancement, Shadow Control and other abilities providing temporary Platinum-level boosts, Diamond level following this trend is like an insurmountable chasm. Might take five or six more years to accumulate.
"Mastering a technology for directionally modifying plant seeds and quickly improving Margaret varieties is imperative. Or I must approach Whomping Willow branches to obtain Epic-level magic enhancement rewards from cultivating Whomping Willows. Either route requires considerable herbology mastery. Herbology mastery remains the foundation of all cultivation."
This also made him turn his gaze to the Divine Joy Flower seed in his chest. Then, opening that ancient herbology book, he examined Divine Joy Flower cultivation conditions. The information made his heart sink slightly—cultivation conditions were even harsher than previously estimated.
This worldly beautiful flower only grew in divine gardens or temple gardens. Without divine praise, it wouldn't bloom to optimal form. Even more than soil, sunlight, water quality, and herbology techniques—what its seeds most needed for germination was divine attention. The more powerful the deity, the more their attention could invigorate Divine Joy Flowers.
"Magical world herbs are truly wondrous. This flower is practically divine worship incarnate. No wonder after the mythical age's destruction, without gods, Divine Joy Flowers never bloomed again."
Then he noticed some attempts by ancient herbologists to cultivate Divine Joy Flowers recorded after this text. Some even excavated temple or statue fragments, trying to use these formerly closest-to-divine objects to see if Divine Joy Flowers would bloom.
One herbologist supposedly truly excavated objects retaining divine magic, using them to successfully cultivate Divine Joy Flowers to just one step before maturity. But ultimately, Divine Joy Flowers still didn't bloom.
He shook his head at this, mood growing heavier. It seems he'd underestimated Divine Joy Flower cultivation difficulty. Things contaminated with mythical-level magic couldn't make Divine Joy Flowers truly bloom? Though he could receive oracles, whether that could affect Divine Joy Flowers remained unknown.
Then he carefully examined the final recorded passage. That herbologist who used mythical-level objects to cultivate Divine Joy Flowers left one sentence, recorded in this ancient-age herbology book:
"I have a hypothesis—if magic and aura contaminating divine remnants cannot make Divine Joy Flowers bloom, it can only mean magic, aura, or remaining fragments aren't truly what Divine Joy Flowers recognise as representing gods. As for what truly represents gods—probably only gods know."
He read this repeatedly. Even mythical-level magic and aura were insufficient for Divine Joy Flower recognition, insufficient to make it feel divine attention and praise—so what was it?
Just then, his heart suddenly moved, lightning flashing through his mind. In his spiritual world, on that mental eye—after experiencing natural lightning, a lightning-shaped scar was branded within.
On his system panel, it was called 'God-King Authority'.
His heartbeat suddenly accelerated. Could it be—what truly distinguishes gods is this so-called Authority?
What Authority was, he didn't know. He still couldn't use it. But God-King Authority, though dim and lightless, was indeed branded on him. Perhaps he could try?
Thoughts churned in his mind as he took a deep breath, removing that Divine Joy Flower seed from its bottle, his gaze also focusing on it. His spirit, bearing mountain-like pressure, slowly approached the lightning-shaped scar in his mental eye.
Simultaneously, he spoke to the Divine Joy Flower seed, "I am the God-King Authority wielder. I am the controller of weather magic and lightning. I command you—grow for me!"
The next second, under his gaze, the previously dying Divine Joy Flower seed with only faint life force suddenly began pulsing like a heartbeat!