Hogwarts: Bloodline Legend

Chapter 813 - 227: The Mirror of Erised and Morgan (Part 3)

Ian felt a lot less depressed when he heard this.

"Then it’s still just a rumor!"

His voice was firm and resolute, his tone unwavering.

"But... the Soul Hall, all those missions... maybe the reason I’d do all that..." Ian fell silent for a moment, his fingers unconsciously tapping on the bottle.

His gaze fell on The Mirror of Erised again. The reflection in the mirror was still blurry, but in his pupils, one could see an incomparably clear image.

Of course Ian could see his own desire.

He saw himself sitting at a desk, holding a book in his hands. On the page, a line of text was clearly printed—[I want all living beings to understand my will].

This was the scene Ian had once told Dumbledore he saw in The Mirror of Erised—himself quietly reading, reading that book Wukong Chronicles.

However.

It was slightly different from what he’d told Dumbledore before. In the Magic Mirror, the book actually had no other content; it only displayed that line of text—[I want all living beings to understand my will].

As if.

In the entire book.

That single sentence was all Ian cared about.

Of course.

He himself might not think so, but according to the nature of The Mirror of Erised, that just meant he hadn’t yet realized it—this was only the desire buried in the deepest part of his heart.

"Not about the sky not being allowed to cover my eyes, nor the earth unable to bury my heart, and I don’t want gods and demons to vanish into smoke either. I simply want all living beings to understand my will—so that’s my ultimate ideal?"

Ian stared at the Magic Mirror in silence for a long time. He increasingly felt that the Soul Hall and those mysterious legends about Medivh were probably puzzles he had to face on the way to that ultimate goal.

Only.

For this desire.

He still didn’t feel all that stirred.

Staring at the mirror.

Ian pondered for a long time.

The room was completely silent, save for the faint crackling of the burning candles.

"There must be some hidden Magic Rune technique on this Magic Mirror that I haven’t discovered yet." As Ian thought, his mind drifted back to his original intention of trying to analyze the Magic Runes that hid things within the mirror.

He picked up a notebook from the table and began carefully recording the arrangement and shapes of the Magic Runes, hoping that by organizing and analyzing them, he could find the key to unlocking the mirror’s secrets.

Meanwhile, the big grey wolf inside the bottle shrank back again. Its Soul Body swayed slightly in the glass, as if it wanted to say something, but in the end, it stayed silent.

Time ticked by, second after second.

And just as the Little Wizard was fully absorbed in studying the Magic Runes, a faint tapping sounded from the window, like something was gently patting the glass.

"A bat?"

Ian snapped out of his contemplation, frowning slightly as he turned toward the window.

Outside, the night was deep. The world beyond the pane was shrouded in a thin mist. Moonlight filtered through the clouds in a weak glow, outlining a blurry human figure.

The figure’s hair was a tangled mess, like a Ghost that had crawled up from Hell, pressed right against the window, its fingers tapping lightly on the glass. Anyone timid would’ve been scared half to death at the sight.

However.

Ian fortunately had good eyes, with night vision almost as clear as daytime, so even through the murky glass, he recognized who it was at a glance—that was his future teacher and current Apprentice.

Miss Morgan.

Morgan’s face was squashed against the glass, her big eyes curiously peering into the room. Her hair was tousled by the night wind, and there was a hint of redness on her face from the cold air.

"This scene is straight out of the Underworld!"

Ian felt both amused and exasperated, surprised and helpless at the same time.

Little Morgan had actually climbed up the exterior wall of the castle with her bare hands to get to his window. This was a tower dozens of meters high—one slip and she’d be Reducto on the ground.

Yet Little Morgan wasn’t afraid at all, still swinging about outside the window.

That was some serious guts.

Ian shook his head and raised his hand with a slight wave. The window opened silently. The night wind poured into the room at once, ruffling the pages on the desk and the candle flames. Morgan lay on the windowsill, half her body already inside, as she grinned and asked, "Teacher, what are you doing? I saw your candle was still lit just now, so I thought I’d come over and take a look."

As she spoke, Morgan tried to climb in. But because she was wearing a skirt, it wasn’t exactly appropriate to swing a leg over the sill in front of Ian.

"Teacher, give me a hand."

So she could only smile sweetly and ask Ian for help.

Ian didn’t respond.

"Hm?"

Little Morgan thought Ian was angry, but when she looked up at him, she was surprised to find that his eyes weren’t on her at all.

He was looking behind her.

"What’s behind me?"

Little Morgan was brave, but she still felt a chilly draft down her back.

"Someone."

Ian’s answer was concise and to the point.

And then.

In the darkness, a black figure was quietly floating outside the window, only a few meters away from Morgan. That figure was wrapped in layers of shadow, as if it had blended into the night itself.

However.

It couldn’t escape Ian’s eyes.

His gaze even pierced through that layer of darkness, seeing clearly what was hidden inside.

It was a delicate yet strikingly cold face, skin pale as snow, with long hair cascading down like a waterfall, the ends slightly curled. One could tell she was a rather beautiful woman.

The woman noticed Ian’s gaze.

"Cinderella?"

So.

The Little Wizard tentatively spoke up.