Hogwarts Raven

Chapter 321 (320): Death's Secret Plot
When the ravens flew in.

Ian looked down at his hands, his fingertips trembling slightly.

He felt his consciousness was clearer than ever before, as if a thin film covering the world had been torn away, allowing him to glimpse a more real outline.

however.

When the raven and Death had exchanged blows, and then the raven turned to look at him, Ian was a little confused. He had thought he was in a position to benefit those outside the world.

Now it seems.

Ravens can even gaze into the future from within the already frozen history?

I have some guesses in my mind.

In a black and white world.

The raven's eyes, however, were a scarlet red that didn't belong to the surrounding hue.

"wake up."

The raven's cry echoed in Ian's mind like a spell tearing reality apart, seemingly coming from the ends of the earth. The sound carried an irresistible will.

It was as if fate itself was calling.

Ian felt a strange sense of familiarity mixed with a touch of resistance—it was indeed a talking bird, and the description of the raven by the female Titan Lyle was accurate.

and.

The raven's call is also a superb bubble sound.

"Who are you?"

Ian asked in a low voice.

The raven did not answer, but simply flapped its wings gently, its tail feathers sweeping across the air, leaving a faint ripple.

Ian's heart skipped a beat.

This is not an ordinary "waking up".

This was a deeper awakening—not from sleep, but from illusion, from a false reality. Ian felt a moment of disorientation.

The next second—.

The world collapses.

It wasn't a slow collapse, but an instantaneous disintegration. The black and white sky shattered like glass, countless sharp fragments hovering in the void, only to turn to dust the moment they touched Ian. The ashes beneath his feet collapsed, and he felt himself falling, yet there was no wind, no sound, only eternal silence.

Then--

Everything came to a standstill.

Ian suddenly opened his eyes.

The world is broken.

Yet it retains its complete outline.

All around remained the same black and white world, devoid of color, only a void woven from gray and white. The air was thick with scorching heat, the ground beneath one's feet as hard as iron, and in the distance stood a massive extinct volcano, its crater churning with black mist and lava boiling deep within, like some slumbering beast awakening.

He found himself still standing on the edge of the crater.

The Grim Reaper who once stood atop the tower was gone, as was the newly forged scythe that exuded an aura of death. The raven that had swooped down was also nowhere to be found, leaving not even a lingering trace of its feathers. The black and white tones still enveloped the entire world, as if time here had been frozen in a single moment.

"Raven..."

He whispered the name, his heart pounding uncontrollably.

The bird's eyes, its cry of "Wake up," were terrifyingly real. But if that truly was some kind of message, why was he still trapped in this bizarre black-and-white world?
Did you not reach the correct, colorful, dreamlike realm?
Inside the crater.

The pitch-black lava surged silently, devoid of temperature and light, its viscous, ink-like darkness slowly writhing. The air was thick with the smell of sulfur.

But strangely, it didn't generate any buzz.

What just happened?

Ian's voice echoed in the empty crater, but there was no response. He looked down at his hands—still black and white, as if he were trapped in an old black and white photograph.

He looked around.

They tried to find any clue. But there was nothing there—no chains, no signs of forging, not even the spot where Death had stood.

It was as if...everything that had just happened had never occurred. Perhaps, at the moment of entering the illusionary realm, Ian triggered something else, thus witnessing a past from the past itself?

It's a bit confusing to say.

However, it was clear that Ian also knew that the scene he was seeing was definitely not something he should have encountered in the illusionary realm; it might have happened in the distant past.

It's just that he saw it for some unknown reason—it could be due to some influence from the female Tytan Lyle, or it could be a chain reaction caused by his own past.

No matter how.

Ian knew he had likely stumbled upon another hidden secret. That era was exceptionally ancient, perhaps so ancient that no life had ever reached that mystical realm.

To know.

Ian saw it.

Seeing that Death was still forging his well-known, iconic scythe, the weapon even looked like a half-finished product, no one could say how far back in time that must have been.

It must be much older than this ancient era, when the gods had not yet become gods.

This explains why he wandered around inside for so long without encountering a single soul, or even hearing the voices of animal spirits.

It is estimated that life itself was not even created by the Titans.

The enchanted realm has yet to be explored.

Only some "native residents" are still inside.

"I wonder if Death, or the Raven, participated in devouring the Creator?" Ian couldn't help but speculate, as he had a very strong curiosity about such things.

Since the Titans were the first to see the Creator of Earth and obtained the Creator's authority, it naturally proves that all authority on Earth should have been in the hands of the Creator.

perhaps.

Someone has taken away the creation.

Someone has taken a share of death.

Did some birds steal certain powers?

All of this was just Ian's speculation, and he didn't know if his speculation was correct—in fact, there was a reason for such speculation.

Because even though the world around him was still black and white, Ian could clearly sense the difference between the "past" he was in now and the past he had just been in.

Why is the air cold?
There's a reason for that.

There were no living things in the previous black and white world.

Not like now.

Something that is neither alive nor dead wanders at the foot of the mountain.

Ian stood on the edge of the volcano, looking down at the earth below.

The black and white world remained silent, as if the entire universe had been frozen in time. The distant mountain ranges were blurred, like pencil drawings with the colors erased, and a chilling atmosphere permeated the air—not cold, but a deeper despair, originating from the very depths of the soul.

He squinted, looking at a churning shadow at the foot of the mountain.

That's a Dementor.

Their forms resembled tattered cloaks, fluttering in the wind yet finding no support. They had no faces, only empty hoods concealing a being that devoured all light.

The Dementors wandered aimlessly among the ruins. However, some traces of movement did appear, proving that the Dementors did indeed originate from the wizard's theory of the Mystic Realm.

of course.

Ian still didn't know what these Dementors were doing here. He guessed that it might be related to the fact that the volcano could be used for forging, or perhaps the Dementors were Palu who had been captured to work as laborers.
"Is Death forging his scythe here to deal with the ravens?" Ian recalled the scene he had witnessed before, and he was still in the same place.

The lava inside the crater suddenly churned violently.

The black bubbles burst and reformed.

It seemed as if something was brewing. Because of the distance, Ian could only see the magma churning and boiling deep within the volcano, tiny bubbles constantly rising to the surface. And between those bubbles...

Something is rising and falling.

very quiet.

Death was gone, and Raven had vanished without a trace. The surroundings seemed perfectly calm, as if the battle that was about to erupt had never happened. Yet his memory remained vivid—the newly forged scythe, the shockwave that tore through space, and the silent yet breathtaking confrontation between Death and Raven.

"This is really strange, what on earth is happening to me?"

Ian slowly walked toward the edge of the crater.

His footsteps left faint marks on the black and white ashes. The ground remained cold and hard, each step stirring up fine dust, as if he were stepping on the remnants of history.

The spot where Death once stood was empty; there was no forge, no chains, not even a footprint.

It was as if the previous standoff had never happened.

However, when he looked down into the volcano, the dark magma was churning eerily, and something was vaguely floating in the viscous liquid.

at first.

He thought it was just the shadow of lava.

until.

A thin wooden stick slowly rose to the surface, then sank back down.

Ian's breath hitched.

Elder Wand?
Before he could think it through, another object emerged from the lava—a jet-black stone, its surface as smooth as a mirror, yet it remained motionless under the erosion of the lava.

Resurrection Stone.

Then, the third item—a tattered cloak—unfurled in the lava and slowly sank.

Invisibility cloak.

"The Deathly Hallows?!"

Ian’s voice was almost squeezed out of his throat, with an unbelievable tremor.

Three sacred artifacts, legendary treasures forged by the Grim Reaper himself, are now floating in this eerie black and white volcano, as if being forged and tempered by some kind of force.

why?
How could the Three Sacred Relics be here? They floated in the black lava, yet they were not corroded; instead, they emitted a faint light, as if they were undergoing some kind of mysterious baptism.

Just as he was trying to use his wand to see if he could interact with the world and retrieve what was inside.

The sky suddenly darkened.

A massive black shadow flew in from the horizon, blotting out the sun. The chill of death instantly enveloped the entire volcano, obscuring half the sky and casting a deep shadow.

grim Reaper.

He descended once more, his enormous body hovering above the crater, wielding a scythe horizontally, his scarlet eyes scanning the surroundings, yet strangely, he still failed to spot Ian, who was so close at hand.

perhaps.

Death does not have the authority to transcend time.

That power that allows us to look into the future across history.

It belongs only to that one raven.

Ian held his breath and remained motionless.

Death's gaze finally settled on the boiling magma, and it slowly extended its bony hand, stirring the black liquid. The three holy artifacts appeared and disappeared with its movements.

It looked as if it was being "boiled".

Yes.

Death reached out a hand and gently stirred the magma.

It was as if some forbidden potion was being brewed. Each stirring created strange ripples, within which fragmented images vaguely emerged.

obviously.

He was imbuing the Three Holy Relics with a power that Ian was unaware of. Just like in the fairy tales of the wizarding world, Death did indeed forge the Three Holy Relics himself.

Ian still remembers that story.

The three wizard brothers used their magical skills to escape death.

Death appeared and gifted the three brothers an "Elder Wand," a "Resurrection Stone," and an "Invisibility Cloak." The eldest brother, who received the Elder Wand, became arrogant and domineering. He was murdered by another wizard in an inn, and his soul was taken by Death. The Elder Wand also disappeared without a trace.

The second son obtained the "resurrection stone" and returned home to use it to resurrect his beloved. However, things did not go as planned, and the heartbroken second son chose to commit suicide. Death once again got its wish.

The humble and obedient third brother kept a low profile after obtaining the "invisibility cloak" until he grew old. He then passed the cloak to his son and peacefully followed death to leave this world.

That's the whole story of the Deathly Hallows. It's a well-known story in the magical world, but it's clearly an artistic interpretation.

of course.

The story is based on real events.

The author of the Tales of Beedle the Bard certainly seems to have something to offer today.

Many of the stories within have profound meanings.

of course.

Beedle the Bard was not a fortune teller, prophet, or seer; he was simply a wizard with a talent for writing, and his background is quite clear throughout the Harry Potter story.

Beethoven was a wizard who lived until the 15th century.

Judging from his long lifespan.

He was likely as brilliant as Nicolas Flamel, and the two even crossed paths; he was an author of magical fairy tales, writing *The Tales of Beedle the Bard*. This book is similar to our *Grimm's Fairy Tales*, a bedtime story for children, and almost every wizard read it in their childhood.

Of course, there are exceptions. Hermione and Harry didn't read *The Tales of Beedle the Bard* when they were young because they grew up in the Muggle world. Ron was quite proud of this, finally having a book he had read but Hermione hadn't. It's clear that this book is indeed an introductory text in the wizarding world.

Peter was born in Yorkshire, England.

The only surviving woodcut shows him with a particularly thick beard. So how did Beedle know the story of the Peverell brothers? Since Voldemort was a descendant of the second brother, Cadmus, and Harry was the third brother, Ignotus, this suggests that the Peverell brothers must have actually existed in the wizarding world.

From this perspective, Beedle's stories weren't entirely fabricated; rather, they were based on real-life prototypes and then literary works. In fact, Beedle is somewhat like Pu Songling of the magical world, both collecting and processing other people's stories to create famous collections.

Well, at least in Ian's opinion, that's the kind of author Beedle did. He presented some truths in the form of a story; at least the Three Holy Relics were indeed created by Death.

and.

It did indeed appear to contain some profound curse. Not the kind that kills, but a more hidden and difficult-to-detect curse, but with a much greater cost—Ian saw that Death had even added a raven feather, though he didn't know if the feather came from a raven he had seen before.

"Fate, huh?"

Ian was pondering the meaning and authority that the raven represented.

Even stranger, Death would occasionally look up at the sky, his movements revealing a hint of... vigilance.

Was He afraid of being discovered?

Ian's thoughts raced. If this was a projection of the past, then Death was secretly reforging the Deathly Hallows. And perhaps what He feared was—the Raven.

That being who once confronted Him.

Just then, Death suddenly stopped and looked up sharply into the distance. Although he had no facial features, Ian could sense that He had noticed something. The next second, Death grabbed the three holy artifacts without hesitation, his enormous black robe unfurled, and he soared into the sky, disappearing into the gray horizon.

The volcano instantly fell silent again, with only the lava still silently churning, as if nothing had happened.

Ian stood still.

Suddenly I understood something.

Why is this world still a black and white world?

because.

He is witnessing another chapter of the past.

A conspiracy that even death itself conspires with.

(End of this chapter)