Hogwarts Raven

Chapter 328 (327): Alien Dragons! Cosmic Dragon Clan!

Outside the ancient castle.

Ian also gained some knowledge from the dragons, his senior fellow students at Hogwarts.

It made him think about it.

If Dumbledore, who apparently achieved his legendary status by slaying dragons, knew this information, would he hunt down another eleven ancient dragons to obtain the so-called world certification as a dragon slayer?

after all.

If one can deceive history and slay a dragon in the past, then slaying eleven more shouldn't be difficult, especially for a legendary rank facing a dragon.

According to Ian's understanding.

Legends achieved through dragon slaying are inherently weaker than those achieved through other means, so if Grindelwald knew this, he would certainly have chosen to do it.

Or.

he.

And Albus Dumbledore actually did that? You know, the knowledge about dragons comes from Hogwarts, there's no reason why Dumbledore wouldn't know this information.

If Dumbledore truly inherited the knowledge and legacy of the founders, he and Grindelwald would surely have known what their senior dragon was talking about when they went to prove their legend.

"But that doesn't explain why it's twelve?" he continued to press, "and not ten, fifteen? Or perhaps the number that best represents magic—seven."

Ian still remembers that the most special number in the Harry Potter world is always seven.

"You actually know that the number seven is very meaningful... In fact, many numbers have meaning." The dragon was silent for a while, as if recalling some ancient legend.

“Because twelve is a complete cycle,” it said. “A year has twelve months, the zodiac has twelve houses, and a magic circle has twelve nodes… Twelve represents perfection, and also the end. When you slay the twelfth dragon, it symbolizes that you have completed a special transformation in some sense.”

Senior student Julong still provided the answer.

Ian nodded thoughtfully.

Perhaps just as the number three signifies that everything is three, many numbers in the Harry Potter world have meaning, and the number seven is simply the most prominent among them.

"So, one dragon proves itself to be a legend, and twelve dragons get an extra reward, right?" Ian sorted out his newly learned knowledge and confirmed it.

The dragon was silent for a moment, then let out a low growl, like muffled thunder rumbling from deep within its throat. It raised its head slightly, its massive body casting an even deeper shadow in the courtyard.

"more or less."

Its answer wasn't entirely certain.

"How can it be almost done?"

Ian was somewhat surprised.

"Ah, that... there is indeed a reward, but being a dragon slayer isn't a kind of proof, or rather, it's more of an honor." There was a strange undertone in its voice.

"A kind of honor, or rather, a kind of 'certification'."

It seems to be organizing the language appropriately.

"Authentication?"

Ian continued to ponder.

"Yes, according to some theories, pure-blooded dragons are mostly alien species, so the world rewards dragon slayers." The dragon grinned, revealing its sharp, white teeth.

The air in the courtyard seemed to freeze.

Ian could feel the dragon's breath growing hotter, and the smell of sulfur intensifying. He instinctively gripped his wand tighter, only to see a strange, indescribable excitement gleaming in the dragon's eyes.

"Killing twelve ancient dragons will grant you a certain certification... This certification will make the world like you, thus giving you some special... um, privileges."

Senior student Julong seemed a little sad when he talked about this.

Also normal.

Ian was also surprised.

"Holy crap, so many alien species on Earth?" He was genuinely bewildered. He had initially thought that dragons represented Earth's native magic, but he never expected them to be sitting at the same table as the Titans.

Or perhaps they were brought to this planet by the Titans for food storage or some form of biological modification? That explanation makes sense. It could well explain why dragons enjoy interbreeding with many species and can produce offspring with most species, including humans.

If they were originally intended to increase biodiversity and serve as "tools" for nurturing magical life in a world without magic, then their irrational desire and ability to reproduce suddenly become reasonable.

What do you mean by "so many alien species"?

The ancient dragon senior was unaware of Ian's ordeal, so he was very curious about Ian's choice of words, "Have you seen any other species that resemble aliens?"

"To be honest, in the last phase of my life, many people were interested in studying aliens, and there were even claims that wizards were aliens."

It seemed to be reminiscing about its own time when it was alive. It's a mystery why a dragon living at Hogwarts would be so interested in this kind of topic.

Could there truly be a longing for the ancestral lands? Regardless, the ancient dragon senior's two large eyes still looked at Ian with curiosity and a thirst for knowledge.

"Tell me, tell me!" The dragon's amber vertical pupils suddenly narrowed into thin lines. It slowly straightened its massive body, the scales rubbing together with a metallic sound.

Facing a senior who is good at sharing and full of curiosity.

Ian is also happy to share.

The ancient dragon that was just looking lazy a moment ago.

At this moment, however, he was like a child who had just heard a candy store open. His amber vertical pupils were wide open, and even his nostrils were flared. The sulfurous smell he exhaled almost made him stumble.

Ian took a deep breath.

He began to recount his experiences in the outside world.

About his encounter with the gods.

The gods are creations of the Titans.

The Titans are an alien species.

This isn't some secret that needs to be hidden.

As Ian recounted how the Titans devoured the Creator to gain power, the dragon's pupils dilated to almost fill its entire eye sockets. Its massive body trembled slightly, its scales opening and closing with a clicking sound.

In this regard.

Ian nodded as well.

Let's continue.

"They claim to come from among the stars," Ian recalled the female Titan's words, solemnly recounting his experiences to the dragon, "and have drifted for seven ages aboard the World Ship."

As he described the scene of the Titans descending upon Earth in island-shaped flying machines, the dragon's tail swept uncontrollably across the ground, smashing a piece of granite into powder.

"I knew there must be aliens in the world! Dragons could indeed be an invasive species!" The dragon suddenly stood upright, its wings unfolding with a whoosh.

It almost destroyed half of the castle.

The guardian statue in the courtyard was so frightened that it rolled right into the fountain.

They were all Ian's creations.

"Enough! Enough!" The dragon suddenly covered its ears with its wings, shaking its massive head like a child unwilling to face reality. "My cognitive system needs a reboot! This is just too exciting!"

It lay on the ground, burying its head in its paws, its scales constantly changing color, from a shocked bright blue to a confused purple, and finally settling on an excited orange-red.

When the dragon raised its head again, its eyes gleamed as if it were seeing a warehouse full of Galleons.

“Ian Prince,” it said in an unprecedentedly formal tone, “as the last pure-blooded dragon of Hogwarts, I beg you—no, I implore you—to summon me to the mortal world if the opportunity arises!”

The dragon's tail thumped the ground excitedly, causing the gargoyle statues in the courtyard to fall off the pillars.

"I must see these alien visitors with my own eyes! Touch their spacecraft!" its voice grew increasingly excited. "Maybe I can even ask a Titan about aliens."

Ian stared at the colossal creature before him, a being that had lived for millennia yet suddenly resembled a star-struck teenager, and was momentarily at a loss for words. The dragon's eyes gleamed with pure longing, like a child yearning to explore the stars.

"You really like extraterrestrial civilizations?" Ian asked tentatively.

“Yes.” The dragon was silent for a moment, then murmured, “When I was still alive, I always felt an inexplicable calling in my memories, as if there was a force guiding me in the dark…” Sure enough, the ancient dragon senior really had a longing for aliens.

have to say.

This is something that is absolutely little known.

Since Ian had not communicated with other ancient dragons, he didn't know if all ancient dragons had this feeling, or if this ancient dragon currently in the Dreamlike Realm was simply special.

"Is this the real reason you're still stuck in this illusion? It's not just about wanting to see those old friends or something?" Ian speculated thoughtfully.

"I do not know either."

The ancient dragon lay back down on the ground, its voice clearly tinged with confusion.

See this.

Ian also knew that people with high emotional intelligence understood that they shouldn't talk about this topic too much.

“Let’s talk about why slaying dragons grants one special privileges in the world.” Ian still seemed somewhat confused about this.

While ancient dragons certainly had a high reproductive rate, it wasn't strong enough to cause a massive biological overgrowth. Logically, such an invasive species should have been harmless to Earth.

“How would I know such things?” the dragon said matter-of-factly, flicking its tail. “I’m just a dragon, not a wizard. Who would bother remembering such trivial details?”

"So, Ms. Ravenclaw actually has the answer to this question?"

Ian was speechless.

The dragon seemed amused by his expression, letting out a rumbling laugh: "However, as far as I know, this kind of reward is an essential means of strengthening those 'weak legends' who achieve their legends by slaying dragons."

"A frail legend?"

"Those who achieve legend through shortcuts," the dragon scoffed. "True strength doesn't require slaughter to prove itself, but there are always some... well, you know."

"They are relatively weak, so they need to be strengthened. Once they can make it through this path, they will be no different from normal legends—perhaps this is also the reason why the ancient dragons went extinct."

The dragon senior's voice turned melancholic again. Ian nodded thoughtfully. A question suddenly occurred to him: "You seem to have absolutely no compassion for your own kind?"

The dragon tilted its head.

It was as if I had heard something ridiculous.

"pity?"

It snorted lazily, "History has ordained the demise of dragons; they no longer exist in my realm."

The senior student lightly patted the ground with his paw, his tone as calm as if discussing the weather, "Besides, can a domesticated sheepdog be the same species as a wild wolf?"

Ian was speechless once again.

The dragon seemed pleased with his reaction, narrowing its eyes and twitching its tail tip happily twice: "Any other questions? If not, I'm going back to sleep."

Ian shook his head, unable to help but exclaim, "You're so open-minded, amazing!"

The dragon grunted, lay down again, rested its massive head on its forepaws, and slowly closed its eyes: "I just lived a long time... I died of natural causes, not by anyone."

Its breathing quickly became steady, and the magical runes between its scales flickered faintly, indicating that it had clearly drifted back to sleep. Ian stood there, watching the ancient and wise creature.

This experience once again made me deeply aware of the impact of one's living environment on a person.

Even animals are like this.

Humans are no exception.

This is probably why many people believe that culture is the basis for identifying race. The Dragon Senior, because he has always been active within human culture, has no sense of belonging to his true race.

It actually looks more like a wizard.

Including ways of thinking.

Thinking like this.

Ian also headed towards the castle.

He still has some time.

So I plan to meet my mentor, Morgan.

The casual conversation ended.

The problem Ian faces is that he still has concerns about the battle between the Raven and Death.

In fact.

Especially after talking with Senior Dragon, this worry actually lessened. After all, deceiving time and history might not be something only wizards do.

The conversation he had just heard was still echoing in his mind—deceiving time, substitution of events, automatic correction of history… If even Dumbledore had tried this method repeatedly, then were Death, the Raven, and even his own experiences in the Black and White worlds part of some kind of bigger deception?

The tower's shadow gradually swallowed his figure.

The interior of the castle remained exactly as Ian remembered it. Ancient crystal chandeliers hung from the towering dome, and along the deep corridors, portraits of wizards from past dynasties scrutinized him with appraising eyes.

Some even whispered among themselves.

The air was filled with the familiar scent of herbs, mixed with the stale smell of parchment, and a faint hint of ambergris—most likely from Shadowwing sneaking in for a nap somewhere.

Ian walked through the hall, his footsteps echoing against the empty stone walls. The dining room doors opened automatically for him, revealing the familiar oak table laden with exquisite silver cutlery. The candlelight flickered, illuminating the delicate patterns on the tableware. However, the instant he stepped into the dining room, the knives, forks, and plates suddenly seemed startled, leaping from the table and scattering in all directions.

“Here we go again…” Ian sighed, watching with a sense of familiarity as a silver dinner knife crashed into the fireplace in a panic, only to be scalded and jump out screaming.

Morgan's magical artifacts are always like this, like a group of spoiled little elves, hiding from strangers.

He looked around; there was no sign of food on the table, and the fire in the fireplace looked as if it had just been lit. Clearly, Mr. Morgan wasn't there.

"teacher?"

Ian raised his voice and called out, but only a faint echo came from the depths of the castle in response.

He frowned and continued deeper into the castle. The library, the alchemy workshop, the observatory… every place Morgan frequented was deserted.

Finally, he arrived at the teacher's bedroom door—still no one was there, but there was a note stuck to the door.

(End of this chapter)