The stone house was filled with the peculiar fragrance of roasting Phoenix Egg.
The air was imbued with a strange and warm aura. A white flame burned in the hearth, its flickering dance releasing a mysterious energy that lay between magic and technology.
A peculiar-shaped egg was slowly being roasted over the flame, and on the surface of its shell, flowing runes appeared, occasionally trembling lightly as if responding to the flame's warmth. The whole room was enveloped in a faint aroma, neither like the scent of ordinary food nor quite like incubation.
Anyway, it was very fragrant.
The scent was so enticing that Ian could almost feel himself salivating.
From time to time, he glanced in the direction of the fireplace, where fine cracks appeared on the eggshell, and the egg liquid flowing out shimmered like molten gold.
The atmosphere in the air was somewhat quiet as the noise created by the female titan pressing buttons was loud, while Ian stared at the leaping flames in the fireplace, casting flickering shadows on his face.
"This is... my exclusive recipe, roasted Phoenix Egg, everyone who has tasted it says it's good," the Female Titan said in a low voice while continuing to operate a gaming device in her hand.
"It is said that those who eat it will dream of the future."
Her words made Ian unable to help but frown.
"What do you mean by 'it is said'?"
Ian was quite surprised. He thought that if it was the Female Titan's exclusive roasted Phoenix Egg recipe, then the Female Titan would definitely know the effects long ago, so why use such uncertain language?
Just when Ian was perplexed.
The Female Titan again altered some terrain on the island, and outside came a huge rumbling noise, accompanied by the scurrying of some Pocket Monsters and Digimon.
"Since I am a Prophet myself, if I want to see the future, I just see it, so of course, I don't need to eat the Phoenix Egg and can't discern whether it has the effect after eating it,"
"Anyway, I have set it, even the mountain of code is still code," the Female Titan explained to Ian, speaking in a manner quite similar to a Transmigrator.
Such a response inevitably reminded Ian of a ship game he played before transmigrating, where there were two identities, werewolves and civilians.
Werewolves, having long eaten human flesh, could not distinguish between human flesh and lean meat—the situation of the Female Titan was more or less like this, the Prophet did not know whether the prophetic soup was indeed effective.
How should I put it.
If this Female Titan is not a Transmigrator, she at least has a lot of contact with Transmigrators—thinking of this, Ian somewhat believed that she truly knew him.
Of course.
The premise is that he truly was once a Raven.
"I actually really want to know the answer."
Ian suddenly spoke.
The sound was especially clear in the quiet room.
He did not specify what answer he wanted to know, but the Female Titan Claire needed no inquiry. Her fingers pressed rapidly on the game device, not looking up as she replied.
"No, you don't want to."
The Female Titan's tone was firm.
The pixel world on the screen continuously changed with her operations.
Ian frowned, "What did you say?"
"I said, you don't want to know." She repeated, her tone as calm as stating a fact, which answering on behalf of Ian left him somewhat speechless.
"..."
Ian was silent for a few seconds, then heightened his tone, "No, I want to know. I really want to."
"You don't want to."
Claire shifted her posture, her silvery white hair slipping from her shoulder, covering half her face. She still didn't glance at Ian, as if the question was worthless of discussion.
Ian took a deep breath.
"Wouldn't I know whether I want to or not?"
His tone was tinged with a bit of helplessness, feeling the other was just making an unreasonable fuss, after all, she was just a Prophet, not an Occlumens, and even if she were, she couldn't read his mind.
"I say so for a reason, not to mess with you, I'm quite old now, not at the age to fool around." Claire finally lifted her head, her purple-gold eyes holding a sly glint: "As long as you can't remember, it shows you don't want to, this reasoning I think you should understand."
She finished speaking and lowered her head to continue playing the game, on the screen, the pixel people were building a strange tower. Hearing this, Ian was at a loss for words for a while, almost wondering if he had walked into a philosophical trap.
"That's sophistry."
The Phoenix Egg in the fireplace made a "crackling" sound, a smoke with a caramel scent slowly rising. Ian rubbed his temples, deciding not to entangle himself with this unsolvable problem.
"Then you might as well help me remember." He changed tactic.
Claire's actions paused for a moment, then she shook her head: "I don't know. I'm just a student of the Raven—like many students of the Raven, I'm just a pawn of yours."
The way she said it did seem like she knew quite a bit about the Raven.
Which inevitably reminded Ian of Merlin's encounter with the Raven when he was young.
That bird.
Seemed to be plotting something.
So going around placing pieces.
Carrying out all sorts of mysterious operations and cultivating talent.
"But aren't you a Prophet?"
Ian asked with some thought, though he still pursued further.
"Prophets also have limits." Claire sighed, her fingers unconsciously stroking the edge of the gaming device, "I can only see possibilities, not everything."
"Human wizards can only glimpse pieces of the future, and all I can do is interpret the remnants of fate."