The Return to Hogwarts

2023-12-08

As they ventured deeper into the Forbidden Forest, Amosta's expression grew increasingly grave.

Along the way, he found quite a few corpses of eight-eyed spiders, but that was secondary. The most important thing was that, apart from the eight-eyed spiders, he didn't see any other large magical creatures.

It's important to understand that the Forbidden Forest is never a peaceful place; otherwise, the school wouldn't have prohibited students from exploring it for so many years. Many kinds of magical creatures live here, including some extremely dangerous ones, but along the way, the dense forest was completely silent, as if all the creatures that originally lived here had been driven away.

This was no small feat; if these were the work of the centaurs, they had been at least several months in the making. However, they only made their move against the intelligent creatures like the eight-eyed spiders at the very end.

But then again, how exactly did the horsemen manage to do that?

They have the ability to drive those wild and untamed magical creatures away without attracting Hagrid's attention.

call--

Amosta wasted no more time and swept through the treetops like a whirlwind. Just ten minutes later, the centaur tribe from his memory appeared in his field of vision.

This is a settlement surrounded by tall fence posts, with watchtowers standing all around guarding the vast courtyard. Thatched-roof houses and small wooden-walled huts are scattered throughout the territory, looking similar to human architecture from the tribal era, except that each house is much larger than a human dwelling.

The horses were clever; they cleared away all the trees near their territory to prevent anyone from perching in the trees and spying on their land.

The centaurs standing guard on the watchtowers were also very vigilant. They carried bows and arrows and held spears, watching for any movement around them. If any uninvited guest broke in, they would be met with a fierce and sudden attack.

Don't assume that knowing a little magic will allow you to easily approach the centaur territory. These centaurs have their own unique magic, and they are also magical creatures with keen senses. In fact, because their spellcasting methods are not as flexible as wizards', their perception of magic is far more acute than that of ordinary wizards.

If any fool thinks he can hunt centaurs easily—the few dried-up corpses hanging on the mast standing by the gate to the centaur territory are the fate of those fools.

There weren't many centaurs in the territory at the moment; in the paddock, a dozen or so foals were practicing throwing spears and shooting arrows, sweating profusely. Amosta, floating in mid-air, watched them quietly for a while, then shifted his gaze elsewhere.

Some centaurs were working in the fields they had cultivated in their territory, some were making weapons, and some were washing the fruits and vegetables they had gathered. In short, there was peace and tranquility here, and nothing seemed out of the ordinary. The conflict with the eight-eyed spiders had not affected this place at all.

Could it be that my guess was wrong, and the centaurs' clearing of their territory was merely a spontaneous act, unrelated to Vitia Kriona?

Amosta narrowed his eyes, but the momentary emotional fluctuation he sensed in Cliona when he inadvertently mentioned it that night was not an illusion. If it really had nothing to do with her, then why was she so nervous?

Finding out the truth wouldn't be complicated; he could simply go into the forest and interrogate a centaur. But for now, Amosta was unwilling to do so. He landed back on the ground and quietly observed the territory in the forest.

For two or three hours, nothing happened in the centaur territory. However, several centaur teams that had been hunting eight-eyed spiders returned to their territory from the forest. After returning, the centaurs dispersed and went back to their houses to rest, without discussing the hunting process much.

Several hours before dusk, the rainy weather made the forest as dark as midnight. To provide light, many of the centaurs lit bonfires in the hearths in front of their houses.

Time passed slowly, and a thin mist gradually filled the forest, making the air increasingly cold.

The foals that had been practicing hunting in the enclosure had also dispersed, and apart from a few centaurs on patrol, there were hardly any centaurs left in the territory.

pat-

Amosta closed the book in his hand and stood up from a rock. It seemed that waiting would not yield any clues, so he decided to go into the woods to find a group of centaurs and get some information.

However, at that moment, several adult centaurs came out of their houses at the same time. They all walked towards the small lake in their territory. By the lake, the washed fruits and vegetables had been piled up into a small mountain.

The adult horsemen helped each other, placing the fruits and vegetables in baskets woven from withered vines onto their respective horses' backs, and then formed a procession, walking straight toward the exit.

After leaving their territory, the centaurs moved with lightning speed. Carrying baskets of fruits and vegetables on their backs, they galloped away, disappearing into the dense forest with a clear purpose.

A strange light flashed in Amosta's eyes, and he leaped after her.

This 'migration' lasted for more than an hour before stopping. The phrase "rarely visited" is insufficient to describe the pristine state of this forest; every breath of air exudes an ancient aura.

Amosta stood on a horizontal branch of a large tree, his gaze sweeping around with a hint of curiosity in his eyes.

He had been to the area before; if he remembered correctly, Greyback's werewolf tribe had previously inhabited this region.

The centaur caravan carrying the fruits and vegetables slowed down, and eventually they stopped in front of a broken giant tree, one end still attached to the roots and the other leaning against a hill more than twenty feet high.

After cautiously surveying the surroundings and finding no trace of being followed, the lead centaur reached into his thick, silver mane and stroked it. After a moment, he pulled out a small, crystal-clear emerald leaf.

The centaur arrived at the broken root of the giant tree and pressed the green leaf into an inconspicuous dent on the rough bark.

call--

A gentle breeze appeared, and in the invisible world, magic began to surge violently. The dim space began to distort and blur, and just a few seconds later, a vortex-like portal, intertwined with gold and green, appeared in the void beneath the giant tree!

Amosta's brow furrowed, and a look of seriousness flashed in his eyes.

Only then did he realize that there was actually a secret realm hidden here. This secret realm was hidden in an extremely secretive way, which was not the work of a wizard, so much so that even his senses failed to detect it at first glance.

The centaurs passed through the vortex in an orderly and swift manner. When the last centaur disappeared into the vortex, the emerald leaves embedded in the bark automatically floated up, turned into a stream of light, and disappeared into the vortex. Seeing this, Amosta no longer hesitated. Once the door was closed, it would take him some effort to break in. Moreover, a violent intrusion would easily cause the space to collapse or be detected by some warning magic.

Buzz--

The intense magical shifts and spatial chaos made concealment difficult. Amosta focused intently on stabilizing his own magical power amidst the 'turbulence,' following the trajectory of the Azure Meteor, traversing the void, and rapidly closing the defensive net woven from rejection magic!

A few seconds later, the pressure around him suddenly eased. After spending half a day in the forest, Amosta's pupils, which had adjusted to the darkness, were startled by the soft sunlight coming his way. He subconsciously squinted, but his senses quickly spread in all directions, and everything around him, big and small, was reflected in his mind.

The spatial ripples subsided, and the silver-maned centaur took the emerald leaf and tucked it back into his mane.

This is still a jungle, but it is completely different from the forbidden forest outside the secret realm!

Neither shady nor damp, the ground is covered with lush, verdant lawns, not with decaying moss and withered leaves. Every towering tree appears meticulously manicured, and the soft light from the artificial sun filters through its umbrella-shaped canopies, casting idyllic shadows on the lawn. The air is filled with the intoxicating fragrance of flowers mingling with the ethereal chirping of birds, making one feel as if they have stumbled into a fairytale.

Amosta, floating above the treetop, gazed at the towering oak tree in the middle of the 'Fairy Tale Forest,' the dozens of small houses built on its trunk, and the children playing merrily beneath it, and was speechless.

Requesting votes at the beginning of the month!

Chapter 640 The Centaur Elder

2023-12-08

This is undoubtedly a paradise.

A gentle breeze blew by, and the golden sunlight shone on the lush green lawn. A dozen or so simply dressed children ran toward the horsemen's transport team, each with a joyful smile on their face.

Hearing the commotion, the adults in the treehouse came out one after another. Amosta's gaze swept over these adults dressed in linen robes, and his eyes flickered slightly. Each of these adults exuded an extraordinary vitality, and it was clear that they were all followers of the Druid sect.

Amosta's gaze pierced through the tree wall and entered the huge tree hollow space.

Inside the tree hollow, some young people sat cross-legged around an altar. As they meditated, emerald green light spots gradually seeped into the surrounding void. As these light spots entered their bodies, the young people's own aura also subtly increased.

Amosta looked at it for a while, then turned his gaze to the altar, his expression shifting.

He had seen this altar once before, when he first met Cleona, and she showed him a memory from the past, where the ancient priests of the Druids used ancient rituals to divine on the altar, searching for someone who could help them obtain the Staff of the Two Serpents.

The tree hollow wasn't just home to these meditating druids; there were also four centaurs.

Three of them were the outstanding members of the centaur community who had met Amostall before: Ron, Bane, and Ferenze. The last centaur looked very old; its hair, body, and tail were all grayish-white. Before the commotion outside reached the tree hollow, this centaur was studying many star charts engraved on ancient stone tablets.

"It's Kree and the others, Elder—"

Hearing the commotion outside, Ronan trotted to the cave entrance and peered out. Once it discovered what had caused the disturbance, it breathed a sigh of relief, and the bowstring in its hand, which had been taut, relaxed again.

"We must also leave, Elder—"

Ferenze bowed respectfully to the aged centaur.

“Until the waning moon appears, Clay will lead his people to protect you and them here. We must return to the forest to continue eradicating those evil eight-eyed spiders—”

"Wait, Ferenczek--"

The centaur elder, lost in thought about the ancient star chart, suddenly spoke. He carefully placed the stone tablet back against the tree wall, then slowly stood up with Bain's help.

“I have been away from the tribe for some time now, and I want to go back with you.”

Although somewhat surprised that the elder was willing to give up the precious celestial charts preserved by the druids, none of the three young and strong centaurs raised any objections. They followed closely behind the elder as they walked out of the tree hollow.

The druids who had settled there were already very familiar with the centaur elder, and it was clear that they respected him greatly. Every druid bowed to him as he passed by.

"Elder--"

The centaur, whom Ronan called Clay, lowered its head and called out respectfully.

"How are the people?" the centaur elder asked in a weathered, slow voice. "Have any of the people died at the hands of those evil spiders?"

“No—” Clay replied, “Some of our people were injured in the purge, but none of them are in mortal danger.”

Upon hearing that one of his people had been injured, Bain snorted angrily and pawed at the ground with his hooves.

"Hagrid, has he been here?" A hint of worry flashed in Ferenc's blue eyes.

“He wants to see you—” Clay said to the centaur elder. “He wanted to persuade us to make peace with the Eight-Eyed Spiders, but we refused outright.”

The centaur elder nodded slowly, then asked,

"You weren't discovered by the people in the castle on your way here, were you?"

After receiving an affirmative reply, the centaur elder seemed somewhat relieved. He prepared to instruct Clay to safeguard the area for the next few days. Then, a little girl of about eight or nine years old, with long, flowing brown hair, blinked her eyes and asked the centaur elder with great interest…

"There are many children in the castle, right, Elder? I heard from Sister Vitia that they are all learning divine magic there?"

"It's not divine magic, Loya, it's spell, wizard's spell—"

The centaurs, who were never polite to wizards, were a completely different person when facing these druids. The centaur elder smiled at the little girl like a kind grandfather.

The wizard's magic!

The children surrounding the centaur looked on with interest; they had heard of wizards' magic, but had never actually witnessed it.

Loya's eyes were filled with longing as she asked expectantly.

"Will we have the opportunity to visit the castle, Elder?"

The little girl's question made the atmosphere around her a little somber; some of the older children looked downcast, clearly knowing the answer to the question.

The centaur elder didn't answer, but Bain tossed his black hair and said stiffly, "There's nothing to see there, Loya. Wizards are a bunch of greedy and despicable creatures who like to use their magic to kill each other. We don't want to deal with them, and they won't welcome us!"

The little girl fell silent, but judging from her expression, she didn't seem to particularly agree with Bain's statement.