Hogwarts Raven

Chapter 323-322: Forbidden Alchemy! The Raven's Scheme!

Above the crater, the air seemed to freeze.

Ashes scattered, deathly silence reigned.

Seven souls, proficient in ancient dark magic, floated in mid-air.

Their bodies were twisted and broken, as if they had been forgotten by time. A ghostly blue flame burned in their eyes, a light intertwined with death and madness.

They are not ordinary dark wizards.

They are dead dark wizards who, in the hazy illusion, belong to the category of "cognitive shapers." They wield the oldest and most dangerous magic—based on belief and shaped by cognition, they transform illusion into reality.

Seven dark figures simultaneously opened their arms.

He chanted an ancient syllable, the sound deep and piercing, as if it came from the depths of hell, carrying an irresistible sense of oppression.

Immediately afterwards, a crown of thorns, formed from pure will, slowly took shape.

It is composed of countless tiny runes, and each branch exudes an aura of decay and destruction.

The magic swirled in the air.

Wherever it passed, even ashes were corroded into highly toxic dust.

A suffocating aura of death filled the air.

"Cognition is reality, will is the law."

"Wherever these thorns go, death will fall into their hands!" The Crown of Thorns began to advance, slowly but irresistibly moving towards the crater.

Thirty Dementors sensed the threat and immediately rushed forward to intercept the crown that symbolized the end, but they were destroyed the moment they touched it.

boom! !

Without any struggle, without any resistance, without even leaving a trace, the thirty Dementors were torn to shreds like pieces of paper, turning into specks of black mist and dissipating into the air.

"laugh--"

The Dementors' bodies disintegrated the moment they touched the crown, vanishing like withered leaves burned in flames. There were no screams, no struggles, only silent annihilation.

"That's really powerful."

Ian stood at a distance, witnessing all of this, a chill running down his spine. He could sense that the crown of thorns was more than just an offensive spell.

It is the embodiment of a higher level of existence—the materialization of the will to die, the extension of the power of death. This is why Dementors are so easily defeated.

“The wizards… are about to succeed,” he murmured to himself.

Just as the Crown of Thorns was only ten meters away from the lava, the raven still stood on the edge of the crater, its red eyes lowered, focused on the forging within the lava.

It seemed completely unresponsive to the approaching threat.

It was as if the battle had nothing to do with it.

After throwing many more of its feathers into the lava, the raven finally raised its head. Its gaze pierced through space, landing directly on Ian.

"Why not try to take action across time and space?"

It spoke.

Blood-red eyes.

Staring intently at a point in the void, Ian seemed to see the intersection of the future and the past, while the raven's gaze turned from that intersection back to the more distant river of fate.

This was the first time Raven had initiated a conversation with Ian.

The moment the words left his lips, the entire world seemed to be paused. Ashes stopped falling, lava solidified, the dark wizards' spells froze in mid-air, and even the Dementors' shattered bodies remained motionless.

Time no longer flows, and space no longer extends.

Everything was still.

It seems as if history itself is waiting for Ian's response.

The raven's power seems to be at work; it needs no emotion, for it has transcended emotion. It needs no language, for its will has already permeated the entire universe.

Ian was stunned.

He hadn't expected to be drawn into this history, much less that the raven could speak directly to him. He looked down at his palm—the wand was still in his hand.

Can I really interfere with the past?
"what should I do?"

He doesn't know the answer.

But he knew he might need to make a choice before the history around him could continue to flow, and only then could he find a way to exit this past scenario.

"Let's have some fierce fire."

A burst of intense flame erupted from the tip of the staff, making the eerie blue gas stove stand out conspicuously in this black and white world, yet it was also incredibly eye-catching.

The flames streaked across the sky like meteors, crashing straight into the Crown of Thorns. Ian's move seemed to stir up a long-dormant history, causing everything to begin flowing anew.

"boom--!"

The crown crumbled the moment it touched the flames, and the runes woven from cognition disintegrated. The entire crown shattered in mid-air, turning into specks of black dust that drifted away with the wind.

"what happened?"

What affected our attack?

"I can't see it! What is affecting us?!" The dark wizards didn't even realize what was happening before their spells were forcibly interrupted.

The backlash caused their souls to tremble violently, almost disintegrating.

"Is it really okay?"

Ian stared blankly at the scene.

Did he really influence this period of history?

But these were clearly just images from the past, and he shouldn't have been able to interfere with them at all. However, when the magic was cast, it seemed as if it had truly crossed time and space to send the magic to the past.

It's too fantastical.

It's too bizarre.

So much so that Ian's brain almost shut down. Ian stood on the edge of this desolate world, gazing at the boiling volcano and the silent raven.

He finally understood one thing: what he saw was not merely a recurrence of the past. In this black and white world, the raven possessed color because it was the variable itself.

Other things, black and white, are the only things that cannot be changed.

Because they are merely processes, not outcomes.

Only ravens.

That is the one who truly determines the outcome.

Just as Ian's intuition kept coming to him.

The raven's call rang out again.

Calm and indifferent.

This also confirmed Ian's suspicions.

"This is what it means to take control of your destiny."

Done.

It lowered its head.

It remained focused on the forging process within the magma, as if the previous conversation had never occurred. It still didn't glance at him, instead continuing to watch the forging process within the volcano.

perhaps.

Everything that just happened was merely a small ripple in the fabric of fate.

Not worth mentioning.

Ian frowned, staring at the silent raven.

He suddenly realized something—

He was not a witness to the past, but a participant in destiny.

He can exert influence on timelines that are not his own, altering established facts.

what does this mean?
This means he is no longer just a simple observer.

Rather... it's part of fate.

"Can you...see me?" he asked tentatively.

The raven did not answer.

It just stood there quietly.

The feathers trembled slightly in the wind, its eyes still fixed intently on the depths of the volcano, its red pupils reflecting the boiling lava, as if the interaction just now was merely a glance cast from the past.

Now, the raven withdrew its gaze, which had been able to see into the future.

It ignored Ian.

They are becoming increasingly focused on forging their own things.

"No, are you trying to act aloof?"

Ian's thoughts were churning.

He really wanted to know what the raven was forging.
What could make a raven so focused, even ignoring external threats? And it must be powerful enough to make Death fear it, even sending the souls of dark wizards to destroy it?
of course.

This shows that Death himself is a coward, not daring to personally cause trouble for Raven. Even knowing that Raven's attention would be diverted at this time, he only dared to send his subordinate dark wizards.

can only say.

It's unclear what kind of past experiences made even the renowned Grim Reaper seem somewhat cowardly, but in any case, the Grim Reaper certainly didn't want to see Raven complete the final forging. The lava churned, and the outline of some kind of artifact vaguely emerged from the dark liquid, but Ian still couldn't make out what it was.

He is very clear.

What could make Death so concerned, and Raven so attentive?

This is no ordinary magical item.

It might even be more powerful than the Deathly Hallows.

What exactly is the raven making?
Why would Death risk sending the collected dark wizard souls here to stop it? Is what it forged a deadly weapon for Death?
Ian didn't know the answer.

But he had a vague premonition—that what was being born in that furnace was far more than just a weapon. Just as he was speculating, the silence of the battlefield was broken.

The dark wizards' souls recovered from the backlash, letting out silent roars as they rallied once more. The Dementors pounced again, their rotting bodies clashing with dark magic, and the battle continued.

The ravens remained standing still.

Its red eyes stared at the magma, as if the whole world had nothing to do with it.

In a world where ashes are scattered.

The battle continues.

More Dementors appeared.

The souls of the dark wizards surged forth like a tide, howling, cursing, and waving their decaying arms, unleashing wave after wave of dark magic capable of corroding souls. Yet, the number of Dementors only increased—they crawled out of cracks in the rocks, swooped down from the sky, and even rose from the depths of lava.

It seems endless.

The attack was successfully defended.

"Stop them!"

The leader of the dark wizards roared fiercely, conjuring a ball of pitch-black energy in his hands and slamming it towards the approaching horde of Dementors. The energy exploded, instantly tearing dozens of Dementors to shreds. However, before he could catch his breath, a larger Dementor suddenly pounced from the side, its rotting bone claws gripping his shoulder like iron pincers.

"No!! I don't want to go back!!" the black wizard's soul screamed, his body twisting and deforming in the black flames before being thrown into the boiling lava.

Let me go! Let me go—"

His scream stopped abruptly.

Without hesitation, the Dementors threw him into the boiling lava.

"laugh--"

The moment his soul came into contact with the magma, his body melted like wax, eventually turning into a wisp of black smoke and being completely swallowed by the magma.

He vanished, leaving behind only a mournful wail.

This scene stunned the remaining dark wizards. Their offensive faltered slightly, but soon, more souls surged into the battlefield from the rear, attempting to break through the defenses and destroy the volcano.

However, the number of Dementors is still increasing.

Like a silent legion, they surrounded the enemy from all sides, pale arms extending from beneath rotting cloaks, bony claws precisely tearing at the spirits of the dark wizards. As more and more souls were annihilated, the dark wizards' formation began to crumble, the connections between individuals severed, leaving only chaos and fear among them.

"Retreat! Retreat quickly!"

A dark wizard cried out in terror and turned to flee.

But it's too late.

The Dementors no longer gave them any chance.

They swooped down like black raptors, precisely locking onto each target. Bone claws pierced through the husks of souls, dragging down dark wizards one by one, then throwing them into the volcano without hesitation.

"what--!"

"No! Help me—!"

The mournful howls rose and fell as the souls of the dark wizards rained down into the lava, becoming fuel that made the volcano boil even more violently, effectively amplifying the forgings within.

"Everything is within my calculations."

A raven's voice suddenly rang out, deep and calm, as if explaining something to Ian. It finally raised its head, its red eyes sweeping across the battlefield, before slowly extending its left claw and sinking it into the paddle.

"Gudong."

The entire volcano fell silent.

The wails of the dark wizards froze, the movements of the Dementors halted, and time seemed to have been paused. Only in the center of the lava, a pitch-black heart slowly sank.

That was the seventh material Raven had thrown in. The heart was as black as ink, its surface covered with fine golden patterns, and it was still beating faintly, as if it had not truly died even though it had been removed from the body. Without hesitation, Raven threw it into the volcano, and the black magma instantly surged, with dark golden light bursting forth from its depths.

"this!?"

Ian's pupils constricted sharply, and his breathing almost stopped.

He recognized it—the heart of the Creator.

The female Titan Lyle had shown him scenes from the distant past, of the Titans devouring their Creator. And now, the Raven had thrown the Creator's heart into a volcano!
It really devoured the Creator... and even took His heart!

The magma surged violently.

The heart slowly sank into the depths. Meanwhile, the bodies of the Dementors, after being destroyed by the dark wizards, seemed to be drawn by some invisible force, rushing towards the crater.

"This is... fuel?"

Ian stared wide-eyed at the scene in disbelief.

Raven not only used the souls of dark wizards as nourishment for the forging materials, but also threw the extinct Dementors into the volcano as part of the forging process.

This increased the intensity of volcanic eruptions.

"Boom~"

The volcano reached its boiling point, and the pitch-black liquid gradually turned into a dark gold, standing out conspicuously in this black and white world. An indescribable pressure emanated from it.

But this is not enough.

The raven spread its wings again.

More organs were dragged out of the void—the Titan's urinary system, shimmering silver bones, flowing starlight-infused blood, and even a few pieces of flesh still writhing.

Neural networks, memory glands... each carries some ineffable significance. They are not ordinary materials, but fundamental elements constituting "biological existence."

These organs, which should belong to different entities, were thrown into the volcano one by one, like a mad alchemist melting the most forbidden materials in the world into one furnace.

"What are you doing?"

Ian was genuinely curious about the raven's motives.

The raven did not speak.

They simply kept throwing down these materials, as if they were performing a sacred ritual.

The magma boiled more violently, its color gradually changing from dark gold to pure white, the intense light almost piercing through this black and white world. The ash-covered earth around the crater began to crack, countless tiny fissures seeping out brilliant streams of light, as if everything nurtured by the volcano was transforming into some higher-dimensional existence.

The ravens stood silently on the edge.

Red eyes stared unblinkingly at the center of the slurry.

Finally—the lava calmed for a moment, then slowly parted, like a curtain being drawn back by an invisible hand. At the point where the light was at its brightest, a small figure floated up.

It was a baby!
The baby's skin was as white as snow, his eyes were tightly closed, his chest rose and fell slightly, and his breathing was weak but real. He showed no magical fluctuations, nor any trace of divine power.

But his very existence was awe-inspiring. The radiance of magma flowed around him, yet it could not scorch him in the slightest; instead, it clung to his fingertips like a docile pet.

The raven spread its wings.

Carefully lift the baby up.

"I did it! I did it, Bird Master!"

The raven laughed heartily.

It flapped its wings and flew into the gray sky.

A black and white world.

It shattered completely at this moment.

(End of this chapter)