"A perfect painting—sure to bring more joy to the world."
Ethan gently caressed the canvas, his pale fingertips picking up dots of crimson paint like gathering pomegranate seeds one by one.
No time to waste—Ethan immediately wanted to verify this painting's effect. As for where to find "cursed power"—wasn't Voldemort's Horcrux, Slytherin's locket, conveniently fresh and available?
Ethan pulled out the gleaming silver locket, examining its light-reflecting surface. He smiled pleasantly, saying softly, "Stop hiding. Your time has come. Hehehehe~"
As if sensing imminent danger, the locket shook violently in his hand, suddenly spewing thick black fog that swallowed Ethan whole!
Blood-red sky, pitch-black scorched earth. Rolling smoke emerged from the charred ground like a vision of hell itself. At the sky's center, like a storm's eye, floated a massive cobalt-blue pupil overlooking the desolate land, bringing disaster yet controlling everything with absolute authority.
Ethan gazed at the illusion manifesting in the black fog, instinctively knowing that terrifying eye represented himself. He felt genuine desire rising, as if he'd already become this world's undisputed master.
A hoarse, seductive voice slowly spoke from everywhere at once: [Put me on, open me—I can give you supreme power beyond imagination.]
Ethan stared at the illusion's apocalyptic scenery, saying nothing as if deeply immersed in temptation. The hoarse voice carried a trace of satisfaction, urging more eagerly with growing confidence:
[Yes—put me on and you'll achieve everything in your ideal vision—you'll control the entire world!]
"But my ideal isn't to control the world."
A clear, perfectly lucid voice rang out. Ethan turned his head without any trace of temptation or corruption, only pure confusion. "Why do you assume my ideal would be destroying the world? I clearly want to bring great love and light to the world!"
Ah—praise the radiance!
Ethan squinted with ecstatic joy, spreading his arms wide—leaving the locket's consciousness completely silent with shock.
Great love? Light? Do you have some fundamental misunderstanding about yourself?!
After reading memories and thoughts, the illusion should have displayed the strongest dark emotions buried in one's heart! However, the locket had no second chance to recalibrate.
The two-headed wolf's mouth on the canvas unconsciously began sucking with irresistible force, and the locket's concentrated dark energy uncontrollably poured in, devoured hungrily by the black wolf!
[No—impossible...!] The locket trembled violently as Voldemort's soul fragment screamed in absolute terror! This was extremely powerful, profound dark magic consolidated through deliberate murder. How could it be so easily taken and devoured?! Like I'm some cheap dessert!
No matter how desperately the soul fragment struggled and resisted, it couldn't reclaim its stolen power, only growing progressively weaker.
[What Forbidden Dark Magic is that? I'm supposed to be the world's destined master...]
The last strand of dark magic was absorbed—the locket fell into deathly, permanent silence. Though its silver surface became more brilliantly polished.
Ethan shook his head with obvious disappointment. "Only lasted 5 seconds before giving out—truly pathetic performance. Maybe I should be the Dark Lord instead—no, stop that thought immediately. How could such a righteously good person like me have such ideas? Must've been corrupted by evil Voldemort's lingering influence!"
Ethan felt genuine righteous indignation at the very suggestion.
On the canvas, the pitch-black two-headed wolf smacked its lips with obvious satisfaction. Though its eyes hadn't opened yet, compared to the previous deathly stillness, clear breathing could now be seen rising and falling.
[Sleeping Wolf awakening progress: 30%]
Ethan raised his eyebrows with mixed feelings. "Even Voldemort's soul fragment, comparable to the One Ring's corrupting effect, only added less than a third of the awakening progress? The energy needed for one complete awakening is absolutely enormous!"
Father Ethan deeply feels he can barely afford to raise his demanding "little darlings" anymore.
"But there's no side effect from the original [Wolf's Speech] spell—I feel no discomfort whatsoever." Ethan carefully examined the intact locket. Energy is conserved by natural law. The original spell extracted curses for the caster to bear personally, naturally causing severe backlash. But now, the "wolf" composed of Dementor essence and pure dark energy absorbs it—same source, no backlash.
"Very good indeed." Ethan nodded with deep satisfaction, pocketing the purified locket. "Tomorrow's the full moon night—perfect timing for extracting Professor Lupin's werewolf bloodline and raising progress significantly. Professor Lupin, you surely want to contribute mightily to the next goblin war, right? Hehehe."
Just then, a loud cry rang out—"Screech!" —a fiery red phoenix pierced through the stone walls like they were mist, flying directly toward Ethan and dropping a sealed letter:
[Your first request—goblin rebellion era alchemy techniques—is all compiled and ready. Tomorrow, come to the Headmaster's office. - Albus Dumbledore. P.S. Too late now, this old man desperately needs sleep—]
"Goblin alchemy! Yes!" Ethan exclaimed with genuine excitement. "Finally here!"
Ethan selectively ignored the last pointed sentence, immediately folding the envelope and hastily packing up his painting materials, raising his hand with sparkling eyes at the magnificent phoenix. Little phoenix~ fly me to the Headmaster's office right now!
The phoenix stared: "..." Naturally evil brat, don't come any closer.
The phoenix screeched with obvious pride, deliberately turning its elegant head away in refusal.
"I know you've been sneaking to the Forbidden Forest at night recently with my Death Bird—" Ethan began casually.
"SCREECH SCREECH SCREECH!" Like having its tail feathers violently stepped on, the phoenix frantically flapped its wings in panic! Its fiery crest looked even redder with embarrassment. The phoenix grabbed Ethan as if fearing he'd reveal more secrets, whoosh—taking him airborne toward the exit.
Dare threaten a noble phoenix—hateful manipulative human!
In the Headmaster's Office, Dumbledore, finally finished with the day's exhausting administrative work in his gaudy purple nightgown, was preparing for beautiful, well-deserved sleep. Looking at the substantial stack of materials on his desk, he smiled warmly. Really don't know what Ethan wants with that historical era's goblin materials. So many little secrets that boy keeps.
"Sigh, with Ethan around, I feel both relaxed and not relaxed simultaneously." Dumbledore slowly sighed with complex emotions. Like summoning an Old God to defeat the Dark Lord. The Dark Lord's gone, but the world's potentially more doomed.
"But we can't place all the burden on Ethan's young shoulders. Why Voldemort can never be permanently killed—that's the key issue." Dumbledore frowned, muttering thoughtfully for a while, then yawned with overwhelming drowsiness. "Sigh, getting old, can't hold on. Better rest... Wonder what surprised expression Ethan will show tomorrow seeing these materials. Hehehe~"
Just then—
BANG! A noise loud enough to wake hibernating bears! The door burst violently open!
Enemy attack?! Dumbledore's heart jolted sharply, whipping around and raising his wand defensively! But standing behind the door was a familiar figure—Ethan, like a returning war hero in the doorway, seeming to have dramatic sound effects playing behind him.
"Headmaster Dumbledore, I came as agreed. Where's the goods?" Ethan asked eagerly.
Dumbledore stared: "..." Would genuinely rather it be an actual enemy attack. Fist clenched, fist hardened with frustration.
Wall portraits woke with indignant complaints. Dumbledore lowered his wand helplessly. "Didn't I say come tomorrow—wait, it's past midnight now, well past curfew hour. How did you even get here?"
Can't see me, can't see me. An artist's business can't be called breaking school rules!
Topping even the Hogwarts Headmaster's sharp scrutinizing gaze, Ethan dashed excitedly to the desk, joyfully lifting the materials stack, bringing them to his nose for an exaggerated big sniff—nodding with deep satisfaction. "Mm, this batch is pure quality."
Dumbledore's eye twitched. Did you grow optic nerves in your nose? What are you even doing?
The old Headmaster wearily rubbed his forehead, feeling Ethan was too avant-garde, too far removed from contemporary humanity. At my age, I simply can't keep up anymore.
Since he's here anyway... Dumbledore simply resigned himself to keeping Ethan company through the late night. Portraits gradually fell back asleep one by one. For a time, only soft rustling pages filled the Headmaster's office.
Seeing Ethan nearly finished reading the extensive materials, Dumbledore spoke with perfect timing, "Besides general weapons and standard fortifications, goblin fortress alchemy mainly uses two revolutionary techniques: Living Metal and All-Seeing Eye."
"The former allows fortresses to self-repair quickly even when severely damaged, making them extremely difficult to breach through conventional assault. The latter—a 'Magic Eye' atop the fortress—monitors 360 degrees continuously, issuing warnings and directing cannon fire. Being positioned so high up, it's nearly impossible to destroy."
"But if comparing goblin fortresses to living creatures, those two are merely limbs. The core 'heart' lies deep within—the Furnace."
Ethan's eyes flickered with intense interest. The Furnace—exactly what Mr. Black's notes mentioned as the ultimate ancient magic location! Extracting vast underground mineral veins through special circuits, smelting an impossibly powerful rune. Hidden beneath this goblin fortress!
Dumbledore shook his head sadly, sighing, "Wizards then didn't know the true core lay underground. They only attacked externally with brute force, causing absolutely terrible casualties. If they'd first destroyed the Furnace, the living fortress, and the All-Seeing Eye, they would've lost effectiveness, greatly reducing conquest difficulty."
"Hmm~ makes perfect sense." Ethan slowly nodded, strategic plans forming rapidly in his mind. Suddenly looking up directly at Dumbledore's eyes. "Headmaster Dumbledore. Do you think—knowing this information beforehand—could one theoretically conquer the fortress without any deaths?"
Hearing this hypothetical question, Dumbledore paused thoughtfully, then realized Ethan must be interested in strategic warfare theory, wanting to play military advisor—like complex sandbox games. Ha, look at Ethan's serious expression. Almost thought he'd actually travel back to fight that historical war.
Dumbledore considered seriously, "Very difficult. Extremely difficult indeed. First, infiltrate the fortress somehow, memorize complex routes, reach the Furnace core, and successfully destroy it—if one mistake happens, history repeats: the Furnace explodes catastrophically, turning everything within miles to dust."
His tone grew slightly heavy with historical weight, but he quickly continued, "Second, outside wizards should create effective chaos so infiltration succeeds. To avoid casualties, they'd need to know and specifically train against goblin attack patterns. Besides that, most important—I think—is 'luck.' Lots and lots of luck."