I, Hogwarts Second Time Around.

Chapter 196 The Legacy of the Gods

"Magic~" Teacher Chiron looked up sadly at the magnificent Hogwarts Castle.

The warm summer breeze blew from the mountains and fields into the corridor.

A wave of heat washed over me.

But the worry on his face was like the solid ice under the snow mountain, never melting in the slightest.

"The earliest magic was developed by wizards through their observation of the stars and magical creatures. It was an uncontrollable and strange power that could bring disaster at any time."

"Compared to the current magic system, ancient magic is far more cruel, both to the caster and the victim. I hope you will carefully consider that studying the origin magic of the past is not necessarily the right thing to do."

Irving listened attentively to Mr. Chiron's earnest teachings.

However, if it were someone else here, that person might be persuaded by this ancient sage.

But who can blame me when Kyrie Irving is here?

Who made Kyrie Irving the one chosen?

Now that he's no longer under the pressure of the first playthrough, he has a burning passion for magic.

Even during his first playthrough, he didn't stop experimenting with magic; it was just a bit inconsistent.

There's no way around it; I believe that anyone who comes to the Harry Potter world will be affected by all of his magic.

Let alone ordinary Dark Magic Defense Charms, even the three Unforgivable Curses, or even if the spells of Horcruxes were placed in front of them, Muggles who had never mastered magic before would absolutely not be able to resist studying them now that they suddenly possessed magical power.

Moreover, Irving possesses innate talent.

As for magic, no matter how outsiders describe its dangers, Owen would have to study it himself to know whether it was truly dangerous or not.

How can I know if it's dangerous if I haven't researched it?

— Listening to what Teacher Chiron said.

A certain dark-skinned man, however, didn't take it seriously.

He maintained his usual expression and said in a lazy tone, "So what? I think Italian ramen should be served with No. 42 cement, just like the 19th century's hatred of realism, which was like Caliband's rage when he saw his own face in the mirror; calming soup should be taken with stimulants."

The compound decoction must be taken together with the leg hairs of this giant eight-eyed spider.

"Huh?" Teacher Chiron looked bewildered.

What is this kid babbling about?

"You don't care about my final payment at all. You just stand on your moral high ground and point fingers at a child's curiosity."

"I don't know what's wrong with this society. Why can't it even tolerate a child's curiosity?"

"As expected, this world needs to be cleansed and destroyed! Hurry up, I'm tired!"

He spoke slowly.

Then, taking advantage of Chiron's inattention, she secretly glanced at him and saw from his expression that he still didn't intend to pay.

Immediately, he suddenly opened his arms.

His pupils rolled upwards, as if he were possessed.

With his neck held high.

His whole body trembled slightly.

Then, in a flat, numb tone, he said, "Ah~ Destroy the world, may chaos fill the human realm."

Ah, praise be to my Lord, God of corruption and souls, Master of illusions and delusion.

"Ah~~ The original world has returned to the embrace of my god!!!"

"Fools of the mortal world!!!"

"The road ahead is desolate, all your thoughts are wrong, all your actions are foolish, and your existence is a gift from God."

O lost lambs who have turned back~~~ With gratitude, pour out all your sins to my God! Embrace corruption, and let your soul and body become part of something greater.

"In eternal slumber, the merciful Lord will redeem you—the souls of all of you."

Irving still maintained his strange pose, arms outstretched, as if praising the sun.

Although it was rambling nonsense, the meaning it conveyed was quite clear.

To put it simply, it can be summed up in one sentence!

No money!

I voted right away!

Such a shameless, audacious, and fearless fellow was someone Chiron had never encountered before, even among the countless people he had met.

He can be described as unprecedented.

"This mother." Unable to communicate with Owen, this snake-skinned monster, Teacher Chiron decided to try a different approach.

As a mother who deeply loves her children, a mother who can unleash the magic of love.

He didn't believe Gabriel would just stand by and watch his child commit suicide!

Then—when he opened his mouth.

A single, heartless remark utterly destroyed something he had held dear for years.

The sage felt dirty.

It is ideological filth.

"You should pay, sir."

Is this her biological mother?

Chiron roared inwardly.

This is my biological mother.

Irving answered for him.

We should squeeze every last drop out of this most famous centaur of Greece.

He definitely has lots of good stuff!

"Alright!" Teacher Chiron said through gritted teeth.

"If you want it!" he said.

After saying that, he suddenly reached out and covered Owen's fluffy head.

Then a strange magical power spread from his palm.

—Divine wisdom.

the other side.

In the temple of the centaurs.

On the surrounding walls.

The countless prophetic murals are so lifelike, they seem to come alive.

Then the text, along with the murals, appeared as silvery-white light, dancing as they entered the central stone coffin.

"What happened?"

Hagrid, who was standing guard nearby, quickly turned to look at the centaur elder and asked him a question.

"Our ancestor used his power."

The centaur elder was also very surprised.

The temple is the final destination for the centaurs' souls.

This is their spiritual sanctuary.

For a long time, countless souls have used this place as a platform to embark on new beginnings.

It embodies the purest power of the centaurs. It is the power of the centaur's soul.

This power has always sustained the traces left by our ancestors in this world, ensuring that the heroic spirits, like lingering memories, will not dissipate.

It is also a treasure bestowed upon new, talented horsemen.

The centaurs, blessed by their ancestors, can see the omens of the stars more clearly.

But now, the ancestor has given this power to a human.

However—that child did save the centaur tribe after all. If the centaurs were to perish today, what good would power do?

Perhaps that's how our ancestors considered things.

"The centaur's blessing!" he said blankly.

"A centaur's blessing?" Hagrid nodded blankly. He didn't understand those words, but he knew it was a good thing for Owen.

Good thing!

He naturally wouldn't forcefully stop it.

"He'll be alright." Luna's ethereal voice seemed to be comforting Hagrid, but it was actually more of a self-comfort.

Her gaze was fixed firmly on the stone coffin.

It's not magic.

It's not some kind of divination.

It's not some kind of sixth sense either.

She just knew that Irving would walk out of there.

It definitely will!

for sure!

This unwavering spirit seemed to have reached even the centaur elders.

The old man stared at the girl with a surprised look in his eyes.

He sensed a scent in her that was unlike any other human wizard he had ever encountered.

It has a profound, historical flavor.

He is very sensitive to these things.

The elder was confident that he could not be mistaken.

Then he gave a meaningful look.

This girl's future achievements are immeasurable.

The magnificent temple resonated with powerful spiritual energy.

This attracted not only many centaurs in the city to stop and watch devoutly, but also other things.

Some primal, dark, and evil creatures.

In the forest, the dead beings who had just been stunned by the escape of their prey suddenly raised their heads one by one.

Heavy snow covers the fields.

Their cloudy eyes seemed to see through the heavy snow as they gazed toward the distant centaur tribe.

Then a powerful, almost radiant force spread around them, and suddenly a figure appeared around them.

It was a humanoid creature.

He was wearing a long robe, and his face was frighteningly pale.

With the slightest movement of his lips, a few unusually sharp teeth would be revealed.

If Owen were here, he would definitely recognize this guy as the vampire progenitor who had fought him several times, now transformed into the Deadborn One.

"roar!!!"

A roar that seemed to come from another world came from his mouth.

Then, all the monkeys, the dead beings with heads of all sorts of animals on their heads, suddenly had a glimmer of light in their eyes.

Like a machine that has been triggered.

Then they all turned around and charged towards the other side of the forest.

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

Irving felt like he was soaking in a hot spring.

The gentle water adheres to the skin.

It took away all the fatigue from his body.

He felt his body seemed lighter, as if he had been relieved of a long-standing burden.

This is the spiritual world, and Teacher Chiron has connected with his consciousness.

In the hazy light, he seemed to see a huge shadow, upside down, over the world.

It was a very primitive creature, very close to the rules, and he could sense it.

Just as flowers have their season of flourishing and withering, water flows endlessly.

It was a very natural and reasonable feeling, as if that was how it was supposed to be.

This is far from what Irving expected.

In his subconscious, he always felt that he might be dealing with a terrible, indescribable, evil Outer God that was constantly trying to invade the main world—an evil god.

When that figure actually appeared before him, Irving realized that his stereotype was a bit too strong.

"It's not quite what I imagined." Owen raised his head blankly, his eyes flashing with various strange thoughts.

"What do you think he'll be like?" Teacher Chiron said irritably.

"I just assumed he had horns on his head and a tail behind him!"

"."

"Now you've grown horns on your head and a tail behind you."

"???"

At Chiron's prompting, Owen raised his arm blankly, and when he touched his forehead, he indeed felt something hard.

He hurriedly lowered his head and saw that huge, pearl-like white scales grew on his lower abdomen and thighs, and there was a short, furry tail behind him.

"Hey! I've turned into a monster?"

"It's the Furnace of a Hundred Forms." Chiron's troubled face finally broke into a smile again.

Looking at Irving's bewildered and panicked face, he felt genuinely relieved and happy.

My sense of happiness is soaring.

"It is said that the original wizards resembled magical creatures more closely, or perhaps the earliest humans mate with magical creatures such as Veela, resulting in human individuals with magical powers. This is the origin of wizards."

Of course, some wizards believe that their magic originates from the very beginning of life, from the mixing of magic with other wondrous creatures in the furnace of life, rather than from a simple combination.

Regardless of the viewpoint, ancient wizards believed that their bloodline contained the magic of the most primordial magical creatures, and regarded such individuals who exhibited atavism as sacred.

However, with the development of civilization, it was then regarded as a disease, a symbol of deformity.

"You inherited your mother's bloodline, and naturally, you also inherited her magical creature lineage. It's perfectly normal for you to have all sorts of appearances in the Forge," Teacher Chiron explained calmly. He wasn't surprised at all by the various appearances that Owen suddenly had, as if it were something he was used to. Considering the era he lived in, in the time when Muggles called the "gods," such appearances should have been very common.

However, times have changed. No one regards the Hundred Forms as sacred now. "Don't worry, this is just a temporary regression of the soul. Your body and bloodline are still dormant."

"The Many Faces of the Crucible?" is a new term.

Irving muttered it a few times, then reached up and touched the bud on his forehead.

Suddenly, he thought of Voldemort, that little bastard who had miraculously fused his physical body with some kind of snake.

Judging from appearances, he has developed a hundred different appearances?

Or perhaps Salazar Slytherin's bloodline contains the bloodline of some ancient, magical creature?

Hmm—it's a new research direction.

Meanwhile, his mother was also curiously observing Irving's completely new appearance.

His eyes held the look of a researcher seeing a novel sample.

She lovingly touched the scales on the child's lower abdomen.

It wasn't ugly, or rather, it wasn't weird or disgusting. It was like a perfect fit between a nut and a bolt, with a very harmonious external appearance, completely lacking the usual abrupt or abnormal feeling.

After all, this is not a disease; it is the bloodline remaining in the body in the form of information, and now it is being expressed, just like a bud blossoming into a flower, and the flower bearing fruit.

Gabriel's fingertips lightly touched the scales.

They looked at it curiously.

Those scales resembled those of a giant dragon, radiating a pearly glow and possessing considerable strength. They also contained magical power, making it conceivable that such dragon scales would be sufficient to withstand ordinary non-dark magic defensive spells.

"Alright, at this end time, we should talk about your destined enemy." Teacher Chiron's figure faded even further, like a wisp of smoke that might dissipate at any moment.

"Hmm, what's his name?" Owen asked, looking up.

You can call him...

"Um--"

"Huh?" Owen looked at him in confusion.

"Um--"

"."

"Well!" Irving spread his hands, saying helplessly, "You can't even remember names, teacher!"

"He has cast a spell on his name, so no one who knows his identity can pronounce it. However, you can call him by another name: Demigod Herpo."

"Ah! I'm so surprised!" Owen shook his head, then stared lazily at the ceiling, lost in thought.

"Hehe." Chiron smiled slightly, then reached out and touched Owen's hair, deliberately messing it up, and said, "I know you've heard of this name. I saw a junior named Tom Riddle in your memories. He created Horcruxes. If you know anything about Horcruxes, you've naturally heard of this name."

"But—the Horcrux was actually a trap he left behind."

"A trap?" Everyone knows that Horcruxes are traps, and Dumbledore also knows that there is definitely some deeper dark secret hidden behind Horcruxes.

But this is the first time someone has revealed this secret.

"To split your soul is to commit suicide. The moment you utter that evil incantation, he notices you in the illusion, as if you have sold your soul to the devil. When you die, your soul will remain in the illusion forever."

"And your body will become the vessel for his projection, just like that former Helbo, who foolishly created Horcruxes, and then—didn't you notice? This person simply vanished from the history of magic?"

"Any intelligent being would get bored and weary. Even a self-proclaimed Outer God. Therefore, almost every so often, he would reappear in this world, residing in the body of a different wizard who had used a Horcrux."

"So all we have to do is wait until he's playing around again, catch him, and chop him into eight pieces, and that's it?" Irving joked, showing off his superb knife skills.

"That's no use. What you killed was just a wisp of his consciousness and an insignificant body that was a projection of him in the human world. Originally, your current body was the next vessel he had chosen. However, a strange soul, from who-knows-where, attacked him, causing two different souls to appear in one body. In the end, an accident resulted in the birth of you."

"Oh, I see!" Owen said with an "I see" expression. "So I really have shed blood and risked my life for this world. Is there any reward?"

"Yes~" Chiron continued to pat Owen's head.

For some reason, his hair was very smooth, as light and fluffy as seaweed at the bottom of a lake, and felt very comfortable to touch.

"Stop touching me! This is my hairstyle, it's my true form!" He sat up and muttered as he tossed Chiron's hand aside.

"Remember what I said? He, who called himself an Outer God, was banished from this world by the 'Gods.' Afterward, the 'Gods' built several towers that could observe the banished world, hoping to find a way to kill him completely. Unfortunately, once the external enemies were defeated, the internal unity vanished in an instant. Those towers were abandoned or occupied by others."

Teacher Chiron continued with a worried expression, "The tower that was once built with the highest wisdom of the ancient wizards has now become an evil altar coveted by the Outer Gods."

"What you have to do is destroy these altars. Perhaps you can preserve the towers, but first you must banish the gaze of the Outer Gods." The centaur stared cautiously at Owen. "And in the process, you will receive the legacy of the finest wizards of antiquity, heroes whom Muggles call 'the Gods'."

"That is the ultimate magic from the age of mythology, the most prized masterpiece of the 'gods'."

(End of this chapter)