touchnovel Chapter 195, Section 194: A Historical Juncture, The Weeping Angel
Chapter 195, Section 194: A Historical Juncture, The Weeping Angel
Chapter 195, Section 194: A Historical Juncture, The Weeping Angel
Pompeii Cornelia.
It is located in the Campania region, in the southwestern corner of the Pinin Peninsula in Italy.
It is an ancient city located 10 kilometers southeast of Mount Vesuvius near Naples, about 240 kilometers from Rome, and about 20 kilometers west of the Bay of Naples.
Many people may be unfamiliar with this name.
However, if we talk about Pompeii, the ancient city destroyed by a volcano, most people should have some impression of it, after all, it is an extremely rare natural disaster that destroyed a city in human history.
Pompeii was founded in the 6th century BC and destroyed in 79 AD by the eruption of Mount Vesuvius. Realizing he was in a city destined for destruction, Ian's heart churned like a stormy sea. He knew Voldemort would never choose a point in time lightly.
Using the idea of replacing his past self to deceive Ian, it was no coincidence that sixteen-year-old Tom Riddle, after all his scheming, chose this era to arrive.
A city destined for destruction.
What does it have?
Of course, there were the ancient inhabitants of Pompeii whose fate of death was already sealed and would not have much impact on the course of history. What they had in abundance here was wave after wave of lost souls.
They will eventually die, destined to perish here. So, using these lives and souls for other purposes before they disappear will probably not cause much of a ripple in history—the death of life is just a change in direction and outcome, and nothing will change for the present world.
"To conceal evil deeds within the calamities of history, to deceive the entire world..." Ian gazed at the distant Mount Vesuvius, and couldn't help but gain a deeper understanding of the young Tom Riddle.
This Dark Lord, who emerged from the wizarding orphanage, remains audacious, deceiving Death and now intending to deceive history. He is far superior to Voldemort, who, in his old age, became senile and ruined his mind and future through dark magic. Sixteen-year-old Riddle may not be as powerful as he was during Voldemort's time.
But he's definitely more difficult to deal with than Voldemort. Wisdom is the greatest wealth and the most powerful force. Even with his sinister and evil schemes, Riddle proves this statement true through his actions. A Voldemort with a brain is indeed far more terrifying than a Voldemort who only knows how to wield his wand and devour melons.
"If Riddle really succeeds, then he won't just be some kind of joke about killing a few people yesterday and a few more today; he'll be a real heretic who can be called a heretic."
Ian didn't know how much time he had left; all he knew was that he had to stop Tom Riddle, otherwise, this guy would definitely cause a lot of trouble if he infiltrated history.
Pompeii is just the beginning.
No one knows what Tom Riddle's plans are after gaining power.
In short, it will lead to endless troubles.
Ian wasn't exactly a savior with a heart for the world. Whether or not he could bring Malfoy back was now a secondary issue. What he feared most was returning to the future to find himself a ghost, and then, after making some inquiries, hearing the story of how he was strangled to death by the Great Demon King when he was still an infant.
To judge others by one's own standards.
Ian felt that letting Tom Riddle remain in the past was even more terrifying.
"What's wrong with that mountain?" The little girl couldn't help but tug at Ian's clothes and whispered a question after seeing him staring at Mount Vesuvius for a long time.
She was probably eight or nine years old, much shorter than Ian, and the neatly arranged jewelry on her body made a jingling sound with the slightest movement.
"Don't you have any prophets here?" Ian was still staring at Mount Vesuvius, his expression somewhat strange, and it was hard to imagine why the little girl next to him was so calm.
After all, even as an observer, he could see at a glance that something was wrong with the volcano.
The volcano's summit was shrouded in thick clouds, with dark red lava slowly flowing in the crater. At the foot of the volcano lay a barren expanse of black earth.
In stark contrast to the city's bustling activity, it also highlights its unusually vibrant nature; just gazing at Ian makes one feel as if it could unleash destructive power at any moment.
A normal person would see this.
Even if you're not afraid, shouldn't you be a little worried?
"A prophet?"
The little girl seemed a bit stunned by Ian's question.
"He is a prophet."
Ian adopted a more ancient title; perhaps the name "prophet" is not yet widely used, since the present era is probably earlier than the time of King Arthur.
"Oh, yes, yes."
The little girl finally understood what Ian was saying.
She nodded quickly.
It moved as quickly as a chick pecking at rice.
"Could you take me to see your prophet?" Ian felt that even if the prophet had little talent, he should have been aware of something like the destruction of a city.
This concerns the destruction of the entire city, so there would be some warning signs or omens in dreams—thankfully, Ian flipped through the divination book the professor had given him when he was bored in divination class today.
He can now be considered a theorist to some extent.
"Aren't we meeting right now? Every Dream Queen is a prophet. Only a prophet can become a Dream Queen, otherwise you won't be able to hear our songs." The little girl's eyes were slightly confused. Her words made Ian pause for a moment before he realized what was going on.
"Forehead……"
The young wizard was speechless for a moment. He was so focused on thinking about Tom Riddle that he hadn't paid much attention to analyzing the situation of the present era.
of course.
The little girl showed no concern after hearing Ian's comments about the volcano erupting, which misled Ian into not considering that the little girl possessed prophetic abilities.
"How are your prophetic abilities?"
Ian began to probe indirectly.
He couldn't very well tell the little girl directly that the volcano was really about to erupt, something she had already read about in her history books. That would definitely terrify the innocent child beside him.
"I am the most powerful prophet! Only I can see your image! But the high priests say I'm hallucinating, only I know I'm not!"
The little girl proudly puffed out her chest, her voice filled with excitement and exhilaration—perhaps because Ian's appearance was like the person who had been a constant presence in her life had finally appeared before her.
She realized that she did not have any mental health issues.
"Can you see me?"
Ian had heard the little girl say this more than once, and he was quite surprised. His eyes flickered slightly. In the world of magic, nothing is a coincidence.
"Uh-huh."
The little girl nodded emphatically.
"What do you see in me?"
Ian spoke seriously.
"I saw you eating, sleeping, and running around in the metal box in my dreams. I could only see some fragments, but the most common scene I saw was you hitting people in your dreams, hitting all sorts of different people." The little girl didn't hide anything and directly told me about the scenes she had "witnessed" over the years.
"..."
Ian heard this.
But she had absolutely no idea how to respond.
He realized that there might indeed be some kind of connection between the little girl and him that he was unaware of, but he didn't know how to correct the little girl's statement about him hitting people.
"That was to punish evil and promote good, to eliminate violence and maintain peace..." The little wizard remained silent for a long time, and could only offer a defense for his actions. He really did not hit people for no reason.
"Also, that wasn't a dream."
After a moment's thought, Ian corrected the little girl's misconception.
"Isn't this a dream? But there are boxes that can run, iron birds that can fly, and buildings that are taller than temples... I have never seen a city like this in history."
The little girl blinked, looking somewhat bewildered.
"You certainly won't find them in history, because they haven't been born yet. They need at least two thousand years to incubate before they can reach the place I came from."
Ian patted the little girl's head gently.
"But isn't that still history?"
The little girl may not have understood Ian's words, or she may have had her own interpretation of them; in any case, confusion still lingered in her eyes.
"You still study history?"
Ian changed the subject.
"Is this also a basic quality of the Queen of Dreams?"
He was indeed quite curious about the wizarding world of this era.
"I read history books every day, starting when I was three years old, and I've been reading them for five years now... The Queen of Dreams knows all of history, but I'm an exception."
The little girl's voice carried a hint of sadness, "My previous Dream Queen disappeared while traveling, so I was unable to receive the inheritance that a Dream Queen should have received."
"Therefore, I have to learn history on my own. Fortunately, there are quite a few history books in the temple, and I have memorized almost everything." The little girl was like a student eager for praise.
Ian, with his high emotional intelligence, gave him a thumbs up.
"I know, I know, you mean you're praising me. I saw it in your dream." The little girl's face flushed with joy.
She still hasn't corrected her terminology for the future; that strange world is indeed difficult for people of this era to understand, and it's normal to regard it as a bizarre dream.
"Let's get back to the point." Feeling exasperated, Ian didn't correct him further. He looked again at the volcano emitting black smoke, still using a rather tactful approach to probe.
"As a prophet, didn't you foresee anything that would make you uneasy or afraid?" The topic circled back to Ian, who was indeed very concerned about the volcanic eruption.
no way.
He needs to confirm the timing of the volcanic eruption.
This is not just about speculating on Riddle's whereabouts.
And it's also a matter of his life.
Even the power of a wizard would struggle to withstand the raging eruption of a volcano, and Ian had no desire to be buried beneath this ancient city and become part of a tragic story.
If we cannot return to the future in time.
Ian planned to leave before the volcano erupted. Of course, he would warn the people in the city, but it was unlikely that anyone would believe the alarmist pronouncements of an outsider like himself.
"I need to leave at least several hours in advance, otherwise, if a natural disaster occurs, I don't know if Apparition will even work," Ian thought to himself.
He had read books that mentioned the relationship between nature and magic.
Natural disasters can affect the effectiveness of magic, a conclusion reached by many scholars throughout history. Therefore, Ian certainly wouldn't want to gamble on the value of a magic expert.
Just as the young wizard was pondering his plan...
"You foresee something that makes me uneasy and afraid? Yes, yes, you've come, you must be here to save us once." After hearing Ian's words, the little girl immediately fell into thought. Her brows furrowed slightly, like willow leaves gently bending with morning dew, carrying a hint of childish confusion and bewilderment.
"Let me think, let me think... Oh, last month, I did see something scary. Where was it? Somewhere in this city." The little girl's soft eyebrows furrowed slightly, forming two small hills, adding an unintentional seriousness and focus to her innocent face.
"This way! Follow me!"
suddenly.
As if remembering something, the little girl reached out her fair hand and grabbed Ian's clothes, eagerly pulling him toward the city below the temple.
"what?"
Ian was a little confused.
He originally wanted to guide the little girl to "glimpse" the eruption of the volcano.
Unexpectedly.
Did you remember something?
"God, I don't know your name yet." The little girl walked briskly, her hand still tugging at Ian's robe sleeve, and asked curiously as she turned back.
"Just call me the Sorcerer Supreme. The title 'God' is inappropriate." Ian didn't know whether he should leave his name behind. Who knew if there was any magic in this era that could curse someone with their name?
Although the little girl seems harmless, what if other wizards hear her name? Like those priests before, Ian thinks they would definitely curse him without hesitation if they had a way.
"The Supreme Master?"
The little girl looked surprised.
"Yes, it's the Sorcerer Supreme. Let me think, should I call him Ancient One or Medivh? The former is more fitting, the latter... I'm afraid of the consequences. My eyelids are already twitching."
Ian is genuinely thinking about it seriously.
Although he was using Old English, the little girl was clearly different from Aurora and couldn't keep up with the little wizard's train of thought, so she couldn't quite understand what Ian was trying to say.
"I still think you should be called a god; that's what I've called you since I was little." The little girl ultimately didn't change her address, and she led Ian into the city with light steps and a joyful tone. Sunlight streamed through the semi-hidden dome above the temple steps, bathing them in a golden veil.
The dream-guarding queen in this ancient temple is too young.
Perhaps due to the lack of education and the temple's fear of "gods," she did not understand the meaning of the deity she was guarding, so there was no reverence in her words and deeds.
In this regard.
Ian adapted very well.
he knows.
perhaps.
The little girl now sees him as a friend she has "observed" for many years, someone whose every day of her life is connected to her, and now she finally has the chance to communicate and interact with him. That's why, apart from the initial panic and fear, the emotions she has been displaying during this period have been excitement and exhilaration.
"I haven't even asked you your name yet."
Ian's perception of thought is very clear.
He could see the loneliness in the little girl, perhaps like all the "nuns" throughout history who dedicated their lives to God. But he was still able to offer this girl he had just met some care before the end of the world.
"Cassandra, my name is Cassandra. This is the name given to me by the previous Dream Keeper Queen. I have no surname. It is said to come from a very powerful prophet many years ago."
The little girl responded enthusiastically to Ian's question.
"Yes, that's right. It's the name of a great prophet from ancient Greece." Ian was a little surprised, but he didn't think much of it. Naming someone after a historical figure has always been common practice.
"I know Greece. It is the general term for the southern Balkan Peninsula, the islands of the Aegean Sea, and the coast of Asia Minor. Our literature, science, and art all originated from that place."
"The Greeks were highly accomplished in many fields, including philosophy, thought, poetry, architecture, science, literature, drama, and magic, but it is a pity that they have been extinct for nearly 200 years."
The little girl walked along, displaying her extensive knowledge. Her sigh silenced Ian—if nothing unexpected happened, this city would soon become a regrettable, extinct civilization.
"There are still many brilliant civilizations in the world today. Perhaps you should go out and see them." Ian finally felt compassion and wanted to save as many people as he could.
"I can't sing for you anymore if I go out, but I still like to sing for you." The little girl didn't understand Ian's deeper meaning, and after weighing it for a while, she shook her head.
"You can sing for me even if we go to other places."
Aside from today, Ian hadn't heard any singing at all.
"But the ritual needs to be set up every seven days, and it's not easy to collect those things. This is the High Priest..." The little girl began to explain to Ian how complicated the operation of the temple was.
Her and Ian's figures gradually disappeared into the distance.
Inside the temple.
In a secluded corner.
A group of people dressed in priestly robes had been secretly watching their backs.
"We have to bring the Queen of Dreams back!"
A priest spoke up anxiously.
"Yes! And that blasphemous fellow! He... he actually destroyed a god's body! God! We will surely be punished by the gods for this!"
Some priests looked at the high priest, whose face was covered in demonic runes, with fear.
"Shut up!"
The high priest's expression was very complicated.
He angrily rebuked the restless priests.
"There is no divine body on the altar at all! There should only be a chair in the god's palace!" The high priest's voice trembled, carrying a sense of lingering fear.
"What?!"
All the priests wore expressions of disbelief.
They did not doubt the high priest's words, because the high priest was the only one in the temple who could climb the altar and clean the god's chambers every seven days.
"Then... what did that child destroy?"
The priests felt a chill run down their spines.
"I want to know that too. Send people to follow them and see where that little...that person is taking the Dream Keeper Queen." The high priest's eyes flickered intensely.
"The end of the world is nigh, we can't afford to lose another dream-guarding queen..."
His voice was unusually hoarse.
Filled with intense unease and fear.
……
As you step into this ancient city of Pompeii.
Ian then truly felt that he had stepped into history.
The surrounding area is filled with ancient buildings, and people on the streets are dressed in strangely styled robes, communicating in an old Italian language, with some also mixing in some old English.
Not a single mistake, not a single poem, not a single post, not a single piece of content, not a single look!
Fortunately, Ian had learned most of the languages on Earth in order to hone his [language proficiency] ability; otherwise, he would probably have had great difficulty communicating with others in this era.
"Did Riddell also study these languages?"
Ian still can't forget the Dark Lord he loves so much.
of course.
Soon his attention was drawn to the novel things around him—everything here was exotic, the market was full of fresh fruit and handicrafts, street performers were performing acrobatics, children were laughing and running in the streets, and people in a highly developed ancient civilization lived in peace and contentment.
Just as Ian was looking around.
A group of people dressed in bright red robes caught his attention. Their steps were steady, their eyes exuding a mysterious majesty, drawing awe and reverence from everyone they passed. Ian, relying on his wizard's intuition, deduced that these red-robed figures were no ordinary humans; they emanated waves of magical energy.
"They are the Night's Watch," the little girl Cassandra whispered to Ian. "They are an organization established by the city's masters, the law enforcers who maintain the stability of the entire city."
have to say.
This situation was indeed somewhat unexpected for Ian.
"Wizards and humans live in harmony, and the wizards have even become the guardians of the law?" To be honest, Ian thought Grindelwald might really like such a place.
Who is the master of the city?
Ian's curiosity had been completely piqued.
The wizarding world that Grindelwald envisioned actually existed two thousand years ago, which is definitely a miracle that even scholars of magical history probably haven't discovered.
"He is a wizard."
This was the expected answer.
"I'd really like to meet a wizard like that if I had the chance." Ian followed the little girl Cassandra on a quick tour, and he even saw a wizard selling magic potions by the roadside.
People showed no fear, no apprehension, and showed no resistance whatsoever. A world comparable to a wizarding utopia—perhaps this is why it was destroyed.
"Where is the scary thing you mentioned?" Ian certainly remembered why the little girl Cassandra had brought him into the city; he found that Cassandra had taken him to a hospital.
Yes.
hospital.
Although it doesn't have a Red Cross symbol on it, and although it's not called a hospital but rather a temple of Escorapius, it is indeed a proper hospital.
Ian saw quite a few people taking medicine out of there.
"A strange illness has been spreading in Pompeii Cornelia for over a month now. The temple has been hiding it, but I've seen what they're concealing through my 'Heavenly Eye.'"
"It's a disease caused by evil magic." As she spoke, the little girl Cassandra led Ian into the temple, and under the watchful eyes of many people who bowed to her, she led Ian deeper into the temple.
This is an area where unauthorized personnel are prohibited from entering.
A subtle melancholy permeated the stillness.
Sunlight filtered through sparse clouds, dappling the forgotten land in stark contrast to the solemnity before the temple, and a faint scent of herbs filled the air.
"Many patients infected with the plague, or those who cannot be cured by ordinary medicine, will be placed in the back here," Cassandra continued to explain to Ian in a low voice.
Just at this time.
A priest dressed in an ancient robe came forward, his eyes scrutinizing the little girl Cassandra before turning warily to Ian.
"Queen Cassandra, you shouldn't have brought strangers here." The older priest showed respect to the young Cassandra, but harbored a strong sense of wariness towards Ian.
"Priest Ryan, this is our god. He and I want to see the patients you've hidden away." Cassandra probably didn't think there was anything wrong with what she said.
however.
Ian blushed with embarrassment.
I wish I could disappear into a crack in the ground.
He never expected the little girl to address him like that in front of others. Seeing the priest looking at him strangely, Ian quickly waved his hands and began to explain.
"I'm just a wizard who's traveled here and has some knowledge of potions." He pulled out bottles of exquisite potions from his pocket; they were super-premium potions he had concocted using his uncle's high-quality ingredients.
The priest looked at the potion in Ian's hand, his eyes flickering slightly. He remained silent for a moment, then finally nodded. "An outstanding work. Your teacher must be very capable."
obviously.
This is because the priest mistook Ian's work for that of his teacher, Ian. It's not hard to understand; after all, let alone people in ancient times, even in the 20th century, it would be hard for anyone to believe that a junior wizard could concoct a master-level potion.
"We didn't even inform the Night Watch about this, yet your Heavenly Eye was able to discover it... Indeed, it is precisely because of such powerful strength that our city can be protected."
The priest looked at Cassandra with a mixture of emotion and relief.
As Cassandra averted her gaze somewhat embarrassedly, he glanced at Ian again. "Come with me. I hope the traveler from afar can heal this curse of sin."
Done.
The priest led Ian and Cassandra through a series of intricate corridors.
The walls on both sides of the passage were covered with strange symbols and patterns, which were magical runes related to gods, similar to those in the tower. Ian couldn't help but take a few more glances and secretly memorized them.
Never forget.
For someone like him, it was just basic stuff. Soon, they arrived at a secluded room. The room was dimly lit and filled with a pungent medicinal smell.
"Snap!"
The priest opened the hidden door beneath the floor.
Raise your hand.
A ball of light appeared in his hand, illuminating the somewhat dim underground staircase—this magic, performed without a wand or incantation, surprised Ian even more.
"As expected, Professor Morgan was right. Ancient wizards really didn't need wands." Seeing is believing, and it was only at this moment that Ian was completely certain of the possibility of casting spells with bare hands.
What?
Morgan can also cast spells with his bare hands?
Can legendary witches be used as normal reference points?
"Is this a hospital ward?"
Ian followed Cassandra down the path behind the priest. The damp and dark environment made his nose feel a little uncomfortable.
"This used to be a dungeon, now it's used as an isolation ward," the priest replied succinctly, his voice devoid of any emotional fluctuation.
The stone steps spiraled downwards deep into the dungeon. Ian's deerskin boots trod on the moss-covered steps, his potion bottles jingled at his waist, and the emblems on his priest's robes gleamed coldly in the torchlight.
"arrive."
The priest pushed open the rusty iron door, and a putrid stench assaulted his nostrils. The room was dimly lit and filled with a pungent medicinal smell. The patients were all withered, their skin wrinkled and parched, as if drained of all moisture. Some patients had only begun to dry out their hands and feet, while others were already mostly decaying. The severity varied, but there was no doubt that they were all heading towards becoming decomposed mummies.
"Don't look them in the eye."
The priest reminded Ian while pulling Cassandra back from following him. He kept his head down, just like the other priests who were caring for patients in the dungeon ward.
"What's going on?"
Ian approached one of the patients. The man closest to the door was reaching for a water jug. Ian handed the jug to the man, who thanked him in a hoarse voice and then began chugging water.
"Without a doubt, it's a curse, a curse that we wizards cannot break." The priest who brought the two lit incense in the corner, and a rustling sound of scavenging came from the purple smoke.
"Who is this person?"
The other priests in the cell saw Ian and looked at Priest Ryan with some confusion.
"He's an apprentice of a potions master, here to check on things on behalf of his teacher." Priest Ryan had indeed misunderstood Ian, but Ian didn't refute this explanation.
"Have people from big cities heard about our situation here?" A priestess nodded, not asking any further questions, but simply concerned about whether the patients could receive help.
"perhaps?"
Priest Ryan looked at Ian with a puzzled expression.
He didn't know much about the situation either.
If the guarantor weren't the city's dream-guarding queen, he certainly wouldn't have brought in a stranger so casually.
"I need to find out what's going on."
Ian didn't explain, but instead frowned and kept looking at several different patients—their conditions were exactly the same, and even the progression of their illnesses was identical.
What does this mean? It means that after these patients' bodies shrank, the grooves on the surface of their skin were all exactly the same, and the shape of the grooves in the same place was no different between different people.
This is absolutely a very strange situation.
"All we know is that they only have seven days left to live. After seven days, they will become something that is no longer human, some kind of incredibly evil and terrifying creature."
"Even holy oil cannot slow down this process. Forgive me for speaking out of turn, but I believe that even potion masters cannot overcome such a curse." The priestess lifted the linen cloth covering a patient, revealing a chest covered in cracks, and continuously wiped the patient with some kind of oily substance.
"This is a patient who has entered his final day. He is about to be completely twisted and transformed by the curse..." The priestess's voice was sorrowful, and she maintained a state of not even looking at the patient's face.
"This form..."
Ian leaned closer and touched the so-called terminally ill patient.
The familiar feel.
A familiar structure.
This caused his pupils to contract suddenly.
"The product of bio-alchemy!" Yes, Ian had seen a humanoid monster in this form before, inside the altar of that temple.
The bronze room, on the throne.
This is what the monsters that Ian destroyed looked like.
The same.
Even in terms of dry ravines, height, and shape, there is no difference!
"Huh? You...you killed this before? I didn't dare to look too closely at the time." Cassandra, whose eyes were covered by Priest Ryan, exclaimed in surprise upon hearing Ian's words.
"Have you encountered something like this before?"
Priest Ryan looked panicked and quickly crouched down to examine Cassandra's eyes. After a careful look, he slowly breathed a sigh of relief.
"It's alright, it's alright."
Ian was puzzled by the priest Ryan's relieved tone.
"Can someone explain what's going on here?"
Ian looked at the priests around him, who had gathered around to examine his eyes. They dispersed only after confirming that Ian was not "infected".
"It was only after losing several of our companions and many residents that we discovered this pattern of curse propagation," Priest Ryan explained in a somber tone.
"There is a special image in the eyes of these patients. Anyone who sees that image will be cursed and infected, and even we priests who are blessed by God are not immune."
Priest Ryan's words were filled with grief, and the other priests also looked sad. The priestess was even sobbing. Sensing the emotions, Ian knew that the priestess had lost a loved one.
"How could there be such a curse!" Ian was greatly astonished. He was familiar with dark powers, but he had never heard of such a domineering and unreasonable curse.
A curse that even divine grace cannot dispel?
It has this power.
The three unforgivable curses are probably only the lowest of the low.
"It has appeared."
Priest Ryan gave a bitter twitch at the corner of his mouth.
"Our comrades and partners who fell victim to this disease only left us with the judgments they made before they died. The priests gave us their hints just before they were about to turn into monsters."
Priest Ryan paused and hesitated at this point, as if unsure whether he should reveal the information the priest had obtained with his life to Ian, this unfamiliar outsider.
"Can we trust you?"
Priest Ryan looked at Ian with some uncertainty.
"Can you still trust anyone else?"
Ian calmly met the gaze of Priest Ryan.
He then launched into a series of questions.
"..."
Perhaps finding Ian's words reasonable, after organizing his thoughts, Priest Ryan slowly spoke, his voice hoarse and heavy.
"Ordinary curses could not possibly possess such power. This is a level that mortals cannot reach, a power that we wizards probably cannot comprehend at all."
Priest Ryan's words were vague.
"What do you mean?"
The young wizard frowned and pressed for an answer.
"It's related to the images these patients see; those figures should never have appeared in the mortal world. Our priest was shouting at us before he died..."
Priest Ryan glanced at the other priests.
A brief pause.
"Anything that carries angels will eventually become an angel... This is the source of the curse. Someone saw something they shouldn't have seen, and then they were assimilated by that thing that didn't belong to the mortal world."
"This assimilation is affecting everyone, affecting all the poor souls who glimpsed that figure in the eyes of the first observer. That's why I don't let you look into their eyes."
"If you look them in the eye, your eyes will also hold something you cannot bear... an angel." Priest Ryan's voice was sorrowful, with an almost imperceptible despair.
The atmosphere in the dungeon was somewhat subdued.
"this……"
Ian felt an itch on his head.
It's not that it's about to grow a brain.
It was just a simple feeling of tingling on the scalp and goosebumps all over the body. To be honest, what Priest Ryan said did sound very scary and terrifying.
but.
From an alchemical perspective ahead of its time, similar bio-alchemy techniques are not impossible. A thousand years later, Slytherin's notebooks will mention similar methods. A kind of meme curse rooted in alchemical creations, which can be spread through such means.
Slytherin did not say who its founder was.
but.
The threshold for using it, as Slytherin clearly stated, was that one needed to be at least a Legend.
(End of this chapter)