Just then.
His little scheme didn't succeed as he had hoped; the mysterious Goddess must have heard his hint, but instead of turning around, she quickened her steps upstairs.
Her back seemed to be somewhat sulking.
"Perhaps I could persuade her to take off her flesh and give it to me, then attach it to her skeleton in the future, perfectly solving the problem of giving flesh to the skeleton."
"It's her own flesh, surely it won't be rejected?" The Little Wizard gazed at the "Priestess's" back, feeling that he truly was the real genius.
Offering himself a bit of emotional value, Ian looked down at Priest Laine who hadn't responded to him and remained lying there.
He hadn't spoken.
And he seemed to be in a bad state.
"Why are you trembling?"
Ian wanted to help Priest Laine up, but when he touched the other's arm, he distinctly felt the person tremble as if electrocuted.
As if he had touched high voltage, the kind of moment that tensed the body straight.
"Please forgive my earlier offense, infinite greatness of your majesty…" Priest Laine's voice was trembling immensely, unwilling to rise, remaining on the ground with his face pressed against it.
Perhaps it was only the High Priest in the Divine Hall who could understand the turbulence of emotions, shock, and terror within himself. Not speaking didn't mean he hadn't heard Ian's conversation with the Goddess.
Since the arrival of the Goddess, Priest Laine realized the problem, recalling how the Dream Guardian Queen referred to Ian, understanding perhaps his initial judgment was completely wrong. Cassandra might not have been confused in perception, rather she was the only one clear-minded!
This seemingly childlike person in front was truly the embodiment of the deity revered in the Dream Guardian Divine Hall! A legendary figure mentioned in numerous mythological stories!
An ominous existence!
The ruler of the Land of Death!
The immense dread often appearing with disaster mentioned in numerous myths...the end of all things!
...
Underground in the Divine Hall.
Priest Laine was spiraling into wild imaginations.
Meanwhile, on the other side of ancient Pompeii, in an Alchemy Shop serving both wizards and ordinary people, a handsome young boy was promoting the store's goods.
"Madam, this Skin Care Potion is definitely the perfect product for you. It may not be cheap, but it's worth the value, enhancing your already beautiful and charming face."
"Friend, perhaps you're just looking for a potion to treat hair loss, but I think this Enchanting Fragrance is equally suitable for you; your wife and your lover will be enchanted by you once again."
"Oh, you're at the wrong place, we don't sell Dark Arts Props, at least not during the day."
...
The eloquent eleven-year-old boy became the top salesperson of the shop within just half a month, as if he was perfectly suited to such promotion activities.
He was deeply favored by the shop owner in the Dark Arts Props business.
"You must have done this kind of job before!"
The shop owner, with skin appearing blue due to magical modification, was genuinely impressed with the sales emptying the shelves.
"You taught me well, if I recall, I haven't formally thanked you for taking me in." The impeccably polite boy slightly bowed to the praising shop owner.
Seeming humble and polite.
The blue-skinned shop owner happily patted the boy's shoulder.
"You will definitely achieve great things in the future, I will teach you well so that you can be as excellent as me." This was the shop owner showing the boy a grand vision.
"I'm looking forward to that day."
The boy returned the gesture with a smile.
He turned to gaze at the distinctly visible volcano outside the window.
"I think that day won't be far off."
The boy's cryptic words.
Made the shop owner momentarily pause.
But the shop owner didn't think much of it, assuming the boy was trusting his promises, happily patted the boy's shoulder and returned to the inner room to work overtime on goods creation.
"What a wonderful world, I will...begin here." The boy liked to stand by the window looking at the volcano during his free time, being the one who crossed over before Ian did.
Tom Marvolo Riddle.
Occupying Malfoy's body, returning as the eleven-year-old Voldemort, who Ian probably hadn't anticipated, hiding as a regular worker in this shop.
What to say.
This held true as Riddle's effortless part-time job category; he had been here for a while, always seeking opportunities to use this era's power to enhance himself.
Calculating the time of impending doom.
Riddle's heart was filled with anticipation and longing.
And just as he was observing the volcano.
A group wearing bright red robes with runes marked on their faces walked in.
"Outsider, our leader wants to see you."
The leading Night Watcher spoke to Riddle seriously.
Sitting on the bed, Riddle gave a faint pause, then a smile appeared on his face.
"Oh? Really? That's indeed my honor." Riddle's expression was warm and calm, without reaching for his Magic Wand, instead standing up to tidy his robe.