Dana buried the body of his ancestor, Merlin. He sat before the white tombstone, lost in thought the entire night.
He was wrestling with a dilemma that had been gnawing at him for a long time—did he need to strip his ancestor bare right now?
During his time studying under Merlin, he had come to understand one crucial truth: it wasn't a golden artifact or a powerful relic that had helped him escape his predicament and rise step by step, but his own past self.
Among the magic Merlin had taught him was a spell that could transport objects to a target linked by a bloodline anchor. And who had a bloodline more congruent than himself? Therefore, transmitting items to himself was far simpler than sending them to any other relative.
Of course, at this point, Emrys had no living relatives anyway.
As for his current self, returning to the time from which he had transmigrated was impossible—unless he lived for another nine hundred and ninety-eight years. That was because a crucial step in time magic involved setting a time anchor. The time anchor used by the magic that Merlin, his ancestor, had employed to pull him over was Merlin himself.
"Oh well," Dana muttered. "Let the ancestor keep his dignity for the next nine hundred years. When the time comes, he can pull his beard…"
What he should be worrying about now, however, was how to survive for these nine hundred-plus years. What good was unparalleled combat power if life itself was fragile? At this moment, even stir-frying hadn't yet become popular in China!
Shaking his head, Dana resolved to endure for now.
He opened the Spandim Gate and arrived atop a mountain. From there, he looked down toward the area where Livingston Town would one day be.
At this moment, there was no Livingston—only a small village with four or five households. The village was protected by a Muggle Repelling Charm, and the entrance was fortified with a powerful Confundo spell. Of course, the Confundo of this era was different from the future version: it was more complicated to cast but more potent.
Naturally, these spells were nothing to Dana, as simple as asking a mathematics postdoctoral student to solve a first-grade arithmetic problem.
It was morning, and the villagers were emerging from their homes to begin their day. Dana rubbed his forehead. He knew all these people—they were from Avalon Island. His memory allowed him to remember everyone he had ever seen, so in a way, these villagers were all Emrys, his ancestors.
But he had no intention of revealing himself now. He was only here to observe how Merlin's descendants were living.
From what he could tell, these people were hiding safely. Dana wondered how they would manage to reproduce within such a closed-off community—would adult clan members go outside to find partners? Regardless, by the time it reached his generation, Emrys would be left with only him as the sole heir.
Dana concealed his figure and silently infiltrated the village. In the village center stood a stone house, out of place among the surrounding wooden structures. Early risers were already walking toward it.
Inside, Dana saw a large group of people gathered around a tapestry, staring at it blankly.
"Have you figured anything out?" someone asked.
"No. Is there really a secret hidden in this tapestry?"
Merlin, the ancestor, was a thousand years ahead of his time. It was the tenth century, and Arabic numerals had only recently been introduced to Europe. Cubic equations, the parallel postulate, and other fundamental concepts of later eras had not yet emerged. Asking a group of secluded wizards with no basic education to decipher a complex tapestry seemed impossible. Clearly, Merlin had not intended for them to escape their predicament quickly.
Nearby, another group was studying a notebook—the Cambion Bloodline Research Notebook. It was respectfully placed on a high platform. Clan members wishing to study it first had to duplicate it and then study the copy diligently.
The students were mostly younger clan members. Some of the very young ones even transformed into each other's appearances, laughing and playing, until scolded by their frustrated parents.
Dana smiled quietly and left the house. The Emrys family didn't need him to worry much; history had already written itself.
His immediate concern was finding the Avar Coven, locating Morgan's hiding place, and eliminating her—though this was unlikely, as the future Coven was still searching for the Eternal Heart. Of course, Morgan might already have been killed by him in the future, with her successor equally interested in immortality. Regardless of history, he had to uncover the truth about the Avar Coven. His and his mother's suffering could not be in vain.
This was Britain a thousand years ago. Dana was in the dark about much of it, but with his abilities, he could locate any town and quickly discern the situation in Britain. Without hesitation, he set out for London, already the capital of England. It would be the best place to gather information.
Dana transfigured his robes into the customary attire of Englishmen of that era. The codpiece, however, annoyed him. His inner thighs constantly rubbed against it when he walked, forcing him to adopt a wide-legged gait.
London then was not the sprawling metropolis it would become. Much of the land that would later host dense residential and commercial areas was likely barren—a buffer zone between the city and fortresses along the Thames.
England was suffering from Viking invasions. Raiders from Denmark pillaged, burned, and killed indiscriminately. Living along the Thames at that time was like courting death.
Dana strode arrogantly, paying some "city entry tax" with stone Transfigured into currency, and swaggered into London.
Using Legilimency, he quickly assessed the state of the kingdom. The current king, Æthelred II, historically known as the Unready, was notoriously incompetent. He had invented the Danegeld—a policy of paying off Vikings for peace. It was widely despised, and even later generations equated Danegeld with cowardice and humiliation.
The Church, meanwhile, was corrupt, locked in conflict with both the nobility and the royal family. Yet neither the nobility nor the crown had moved decisively against the Church…
Suddenly, a Muggle shouted, "Look! There's an evil wizard here!"
All eyes turned to Dana.
He frowned. Before entering the city, he had changed not only his clothes but also his hair color. How had this Muggle recognized him?
"I am not a wizard," Dana said, spreading his hands. "Do not accuse me falsely."
"You are a wizard!" the Muggle insisted, slowly backing away in fear. "There isn't a speck of filth on your feet, and you dare say you are not a wizard?"
Dana looked down, startled. Europe was extremely unsanitary at this time. People constantly had to avoid stepping in excrement and urine. Dana had used magic to isolate his feet from all filth—a convenience of the future that had inadvertently revealed him.
He realized, with a sigh, that he was still far from adapting to this era.
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