Hogwarts: Dumbledore reigned over the wizarding world.

Chapter 296 The Arrogant Wizards

The so-called ten elements refer to the length, width, height, time, and spiritual attributes (coordinates) of real things, as well as their opposites in the spiritual universe.

Vaughn did not have a deep understanding of this theory, because although the Ten Elements Theory was quite creative in dividing the positive and negative, yin and yang aspects, it gave the Ten Elements themselves a hypothetical definition in a rule-like and anthropomorphic way.

For example, they stipulate that if a certain source represents radiance, darkness must be born at the same time.

If a certain source is life, then death will inevitably lead to birth.

Vaughn once speculated that the creator of this theory might have been a Muggle, too heavily influenced by the religious atmosphere of the Middle Ages, making academic research resemble some kind of mystical game.

But now—

Sure enough, Dumbledore said, "In fact, the theory of the ten elements arose after the theory of the golden soul—as I said, the idea of ​​creating a god capable of encompassing the universe is simply impossible for Earth, for humanity, so insignificant as dust."

"I don't know the exact time; it's too far removed from me. I only heard Nick mention that one day, a legendary alchemist suggested, 'Since we cannot create a cosmic, omniscient, and omnipotent God, why not break down the concept He represents?'"

"Starting from the essence of the universe, and using the material world as a foundation, we'll subdivide it into rules, each rule corresponding to an authority, and each authority corresponding to a god. How about we first create a group of highly interconnected secondary gods? Once they're born, we'll figure out a way to bring them together." Ha—what arrogant, yet admirable and enviable predecessors!

Hearing this, Vaughn had recovered from his previous shock.

Feeling the chill creeping up from the depths of his brain, he asked, "They failed?"

Dumbledore nodded: "Perhaps—the 16 legendary wizards died completely, leaving not even a ghost behind. After their deaths, people could only reconstruct the scene of their last gathering. As for when they went to the Aether after the gathering and what they did there, no one knows."

"But strictly speaking, it's not a complete failure. Remember when we entered the ether together last time? I told you that the ether would respond to our thoughts. You even said that my use of the word 'respond' meant that the ether was a living thing."

""

Vaughn pursed his lips.

He certainly remembered, because Dumbledore hadn't given him a direct answer at the time.

Noticing his movement, Dumbledore smiled and said, "That's the problem. Through various documents and the portraits of wizards that have been passed down from that time, we can be sure that the aether seems to have not changed. For nearly a thousand years, the boundless gray fog seems to have remained the same."

"According to the predictions of the Golden Soul Theory, if such a god were to be born, His consciousness should pervade the entire ether, and the entire ether would be a dream. However, the ether remains desolate, and wandering within it is like falling into the void. In the boundless gray fog, the great will seems to have never existed, only a loneliness far removed from life. In this light, they have indeed failed."

Dumbledore paused, his face turned towards the window. Vaughn couldn't see his expression, only a slightly unfocused look in his eyes: "—But on the other hand, some things have indeed changed, such as your questioning response, for example, the giants you saw, the darkness you felt when you used the Guardian Charm!"

This passage contains a lot of information.

Vaughn's primary concern was one of the questions: "Did the 'response' only appear after the change? Didn't the ether previously respond to alchemists?"

This is different from what he saw in his notes.

“That kind of response was certainly a response,” Dumbledore said, “but it was completely different; it was more like—”

It was a kind of mechanical exchange, the process similar to what we have now: the alchemist transmitted his thoughts to the aether, and then what he wanted would appear before him.

"But the current 'response' —"

As he spoke, he turned around and called out to Vaughn, "Vaughn."

"Um?"

Vaughn responded instinctively, then realized what was happening.

Dumbledore nodded: "Look, like this, I call you, and you respond to me—the current ether has a response process; it receives our thoughts and then provides feedback at the level of thought. To describe it specifically, it's like you suddenly understand something in your head that you didn't know before."

The description sounded somewhat familiar to Vaughn: "—For example, when I see those eerie blue figures, and see them dissolve in the twilight, I feel sadness—?"

Old Deng nodded repeatedly: "Yes, the sadness you felt at that time was the response from the ether. You were curious about what the blue figure was, and it gave you the answer. It's just that your conscious mind couldn't understand it yet. Only your subconscious mind, which represents emotions, noticed its feedback and made you feel the corresponding emotions."

Upon hearing this, Vaughn frowned deeply: "So, those eerie blue figures are souls?"

"Hmm—I think what you called 'projection' before is more appropriate. You can think of them as projections of the soul in the ether, although the actual concept is more complex."

Dumbledore didn't continue.

Vaughn was not surprised. Although he didn't say it, Old Deng had been keeping an eye on him researching the Soul One, at least for the time being.

He didn't press the matter further about the soul, but instead steered the conversation back to the changes in the ether, voicing his own doubts: "Besides the 'response,' you just used the giants and darkness I encountered in the ether as examples. Does that mean the darkness I felt when I cast the Consciousness Protection Charm was also a change caused by those legendary alchemists creating gods? Is it one of the ten primal substances?"

Dumbledore gently shook his head: "To be precise, it should be one of the twenty paths of the ten source substances. Each source substance has two paths, one positive and one negative. Nicolas said that in his youth, the alchemy community called them the 'Twenty Steps to Godhood,' meaning, those were twenty paths that could lead to godhood!"

Has "Darkness" become a god?

"I have no answer, my dear. At least from my many years of observation, darkness does not exhibit any independent consciousness or will, but considering its real existence in the ether—"

Listening to Deng's words, Vaughn interjected, "You can't say with absolute certainty that 'darkness' isn't God?"

"—Yes, especially since Nick created Death in 1381 and used Beedle to spread the story of the Peverell brothers, successfully giving Death a personified will. Yes, I cannot be certain what state the darkness is in."

"Speaking of Death," Vaughn pondered, "Does Nicolas Flamel's creation of Death mean that those legendary alchemists back then truly failed? Otherwise, Death shouldn't have waited until Nicolas Flamel created it."

"ha!"

Dumbledore let out a short, low laugh: "Or perhaps they actually succeeded, and Nico created a new Death?" With the deaths of those legendary old men, this has become an untraceable historical mystery, but many people share your view.

"a lot of?"

"Don't be so surprised, my dear. Since all those legendary alchemists are dead, how did their grand ideas survive to this day? How did Nicole know about the concept of Death? And where did he hear the story of the three brothers and Death?"

"————"

Vaughn paused, realizing that his thinking had gone astray.

Yes, how could the grand plan of those 16 legendary alchemists have ended with their deaths? They are dead, but they still have students, disciples, and families.

After them, others continued their research, exploring the possibility of creating gods.

Just as he was thinking, another sharp pain struck his brain. Vaughn clutched his forehead, his face turning pale.

"Alright, that's all for today." Seeing his unusual behavior, Dumbledore stood up. "Rest for a couple of days and get better. We can talk about any questions later. I'll be staying at Hogwarts for the next couple of days. Don't worry about contacting people in China for now; I'll handle that."

Vaughn didn't resist and accepted his suggestion.

Only as Dumbledore was about to leave the ward did he suddenly ask, "The twilight light that appeared beside you in the Aether last time—was it Death?"

Dumbledore, who had already placed one hand on the doorknob and was about to open the door and leave, paused. After a moment, his voice, tinged with laughter, came: "Yes, the light of twilight is His most obvious mark. Every legendary wizard is marked by His twilight light before he dies; consider it a special privilege!"

As soon as he finished speaking, the door creaked open and then slammed shut.

The ward fell silent again. Lying in bed, Vaughn looked out the window at the sky while feeling waves of headaches, and he couldn't fall asleep at all.

My thoughts were in turmoil, echoing everything I had heard before, and replaying before my eyes the twilight light that bloomed in the "Death God's" dream within the ether, and the eerie blue souls that dissolved in the light.

After a long silence, his whisper echoed in the ward: "Is this your end? Ha, the mental and physical injuries seem to have made me a little sentimental—"

When Hermione opened her eyes in the early morning, guided by her biological clock, she could see the mist rising from the Forbidden Forest and the pale dawn in the distance through the slightly parted curtains of her bedroom in the towering Gryffindor Tower.

I lay there in a daze for a while longer, half-awake and half-asleep, until dawn broke. The distant mountains were bathed in the golden light of the sunset, while the Forbidden Forest and the castle were still shrouded in the shadows of the nearby mountains.

Realizing it was getting late, Hermione tiptoed out of bed.

Parvati Petil and Lavender Brown, who shared the same dormitory, were still fast asleep.

The room, which appeared particularly dim due to the contrast of light and shadow outside the window, was filled with the faint sounds of their snoring. Hermione did not disturb them; there was only one Transfiguration class that started at 10 a.m. this morning, and normally they would sleep until around 8:30 a.m.

And now.

"Hmm, 6:41————"

Hermione glanced at the watch Vaughn had given her, then tiptoed to the washroom. The library would open in 19 minutes. Mrs. Pince was always punctual, but the fifth-year students, who had spent their first four years playing around and then frantically trying to cram for the regular wizarding exams, were far more proactive than Mrs. Pince.

Especially now that it's November, there are only 7 months left until the exam month in June next year.

Well, the seventh graders, who had been wasting their sixth grade year, are now even more anxious than the fifth graders as the ultimate wizarding exam approaches.

Because their exams will begin next May.

Lately, Hermione has found it increasingly difficult to secure a good seat in the library if she arrives even a little late—she's not Vaughn, who can always get a note from Professor Rozier to have Mrs. Pince arrange a seat for him.

After washing up in 3 minutes, Hermione casually tied up her loose hair, put on her robe, picked up the books she needed to return that day, and left the dormitory.

She went to the auditorium first. In the huge auditorium, the long tables of each college, which were clean and shiny, were set with plates as always.

Hermione once thought that while everyone was sleeping, it was the school's ghosts who were taking care of the Hogwarts kitchen, until more than two weeks ago when she saw with her own eyes how different the ghosts' "eating habits" were from those of the living.

The Great Hall, Dining Room, and Kitchen must be the greatest unsolved mysteries of Hogwarts!

Although she arrived very early, the auditorium was still quite full in the early morning, almost all of them were seniors from the two grades she had just been criticizing.

The magical dome of the Great Hall cast the brilliant light of the sunrise over the other side of Hogwarts Valley. In that golden light, however, was a bizarre sight: a group of students, hunched over, slumped over the dining table, staring blankly at piles of books, muttering to themselves, and mechanically stuffing food into their mouths.

At first glance, it's quite creepy.

Of course, Hermione felt both familiar and anxious about the scene—if she waited any longer, her favorite spot would be taken!

The girl ran to the Gryffindor table, took out her wand, and tapped the plate. Immediately, a large amount of food "gushed" out of the huge plate, like a mountain spring.

To Hermione's surprise, the food that sprayed out of her plate today was not the familiar baked beans, smoked meat, hash browns, and poached eggs, but baguette and pea soup.

The baguette is infused with the rich aroma of garlic sautéed in butter, while the green pea soup exudes the fragrance of milk and nuts.

"Dumbledore is back?"

This was Hermione's first reaction upon seeing breakfast.

As is widely known, Albus Dumbledore, England's greatest white wizard, was a true fanatic of French cuisine.

When he was in the castle, a French meal would often be served in Hogwarts' mysterious kitchen.

And once he leaves and can't come back for a while, the kitchen will only cook English breakfast, because our dear Vice-Principal, Professor Minerva McGonagall, is a rather traditional Scotsman.

Her favorite breakfast is haggis, but not everyone can enjoy this dish, so she usually doesn't ask the kitchen for different types of food.

Sure enough, Hermione craned her slender, white neck and quickly saw that Dumbledore's seat on the professors' table was set with a plate and cutlery.

A pinkish-purple nightcap was also placed on the armrest of the chair, seemingly declaring that this chair was now occupied.

Hermione shook her head and stopped paying attention.

The girl ladled out a bowl of thick soup, broke open a baguette and threw it in, quickly ate a quick meal, and then rushed to the library while the upperclassmen were still suffering from "early morning sickness" and the dementia caused by excessive carbohydrate intake.

She had a very demanding daily study schedule.

The so-called "learning" here naturally goes beyond the normal teaching process of the professors. In terms of the knowledge required by the school, Hermione has already completed all the courses in the second year. She is stuck in the third year. The reason is not that the courses are difficult, but that electives are required in the third year and she has not yet decided what to choose.

Electives aren't in a rush to be considered yet. Hermione's current focus is on expanding her existing knowledge and gaining a systematic understanding of courses not taught at school.

The former is like magic potions.

The latter is alchemy!

Yes, the little witch is trying very hard to catch up with Vaughn, although as time goes by, this goal is becoming increasingly difficult to achieve.

But Hermione felt that she had to try her best to improve herself, at least to understand what he was doing, what difficulties he encountered in achieving his goals, and strive to be able to help him someday.

She may not have the pioneering and leadership skills to do something, but she knows that even someone as strong as Vaughn needs help.

Vaughn told her about the potion exchange program, which was essentially him finding helpers for himself.

Hermione knew even better that her helpers were also fellow travelers.

She wanted to be Vaughn's companion; she didn't want to fall too far behind.

This is no easy task. Vaughn has already shown considerable talent in Charms, Potions and Alchemy, especially the former two, where he is extremely proficient, and in Potions, he is a master.

Hermione didn't expect to catch up too much, but—at least when the potions exchange event starts, she should be able to outdo the students from other schools who come to exchange ideas. As a girlfriend, it would be a huge failure if she could only watch helplessly as people from other schools surrounded her boyfriend!

In short, an inexplicable competitive spirit —

Hermione, carrying books, walked out of the Great Hall with mixed thoughts. She pondered her study plan for the day, which books to borrow, while also thinking about Vaughn.

She knew that Vaughn had been preparing for the ethereal ritual last night.

I wonder if he succeeded?

Lost in thought, a faint arguing sound brought her back to reality. She was on the second floor of the main tower. The reason she was on this side, instead of through the corridor and the grand staircase, was because there was a shortcut leading directly to the library on the fifth floor.

It was Vaughn who told her about the shortcut.

The arguing was coming from Professor McGonagall's office deep in the corridor. Hermione didn't know what was going on, but she was a good student and didn't want to eavesdrop.

Just as she was about to leave, the faint sound of Vaughn's name made her stop in her tracks.

"—Albus, it was you who left Vaughn to perform the ritual alone. You're always like this, negligent where you should be careful, and only trying to make amends afterward!"

"I didn't expect him to meet his demise."

"Merlin—" Professor McGonagall's voice turned shrill, "So you didn't expect me to cover it up? To lie to those kids that he had no problems and keep the whole thing a secret?"

"Calm down, Minerva. This isn't about lying to them. It's about Vaughn's injury, and it's best not to let that out. You know the board of trustees are watching me and him closely, looking for trouble. If—"

"Clatter!"

The sound of a heavy object hitting the ground interrupted Dumbledore's explanation. When he and Professor McGonagall came out of the office, they only saw books scattered on the floor.

Professor McGonagall picked up a book, flipped through it, and pursed her dry lips, saying, "It's Miss Granger. Your plans have failed."

Dumbledore blinked: "————It's alright. Granger and Vaughn are a couple. She should have gone to the school hospital. Go over there later and tell her what's wrong. She'll listen to you."

Professor McGonagall's eyes widened, her gaunt face visibly serious: "I've wanted to say this for a long time—the issue of Granger and Vaughn's relationship—"

But Dumbledore interrupted her with a smile: "I think youthful love is beautiful and shouldn't be interfered with too much. It's settled then, dear Minerva. Keep Granger calm and let the peaceful days continue for a while longer."

He turned to leave.

Professor McGonagall paused for a moment, then suddenly asked, "Were those monsters the ones that hurt Vaughn?"

"Yes, but I must correct you, dear, they are gods."

"Hmph, God—I still agree. You shouldn't have let Vaughn enter the Aether alone, or even let him get involved in alchemy. His talent in spells, potions, and transmutation is enough to make a career for him. Why did you lead him into a place that is destined to have no future?"

"Because what you've said doesn't touch upon the true essence of magic!"

"—You'd better really mean that, Albus."

At Professor McGonagall's meaningful words, Dumbledore stopped and slowly walked into the depths of the corridor.

—0，，」

The roar, seemingly echoing through the heavens and earth, shook Vaughn's mind. He suddenly opened his eyes, his heart pounding, his eyeballs trembling as he scanned his surroundings.

When he saw the school hospital ward instead of the boundless ocean he had experienced the night before, his heartbeat gradually calmed down.

Then, he took a deep breath.

The trouble caused by the damage to his mental body was far more serious than he had anticipated; his consciousness remained almost completely still throughout the entire night.

My head aches when I'm awake, but as soon as I close my eyes, last night's experience in the ether replays in my dreams.

That vast, boundless, and profoundly melancholic ocean.

That terrifying giant in the ocean.

And the twilight light emanating from the giant's eyes, whenever it shone upon him, gave him the feeling that he, like those eerie blue souls, was dissolving in the light.

An indescribable feeling, as if one's entire being had fallen into nothingness—emptiness, loneliness, and desolation.

Carefully savoring the lingering emotions within, just as he had done every time he woke up from a dream in the previous hours, Vaughn once again sank into his inner world.

As a projection of consciousness onto the physical body, the mental world, though abstract and enigmatic, can truthfully reflect changes at the level of consciousness.

Unlike ordinary people, Vaughn, who possesses the magic of memory, has an exceptionally vast mental world. In this boundless "space," there is no "storm" formed by countless distracting thoughts, nor are there continuous memory images that resemble individual picture frames.