I, Hogwarts Second Time Around.

Chapter 198 Soul! May you find peace—Hey, why the hell are you coming back to life?

"Call upon God—"

Owen, riding on the back of the silver dragon, navigated the wind and snow, waving his magic wand.

"Guards—"

next second.

The cry of a phoenix emanated proudly from somewhere on his body.

His wand vibrated rapidly, then exhaled a large cloud of silver smoke.

Then, the tip of the wand grew brighter and brighter, and a phoenix engulfed in divine fire emerged, its head held high, wings outstretched.

This time, its cry was so clear and so enthusiastic.

It was as if the shackles he had been carrying had completely disappeared!

After the phoenix had completely flown out, Owen suddenly pointed his wand at himself.

Press the tip of the cane against your temple.

Slowly, a silvery-white thread, like a memory composed of countless threads, was pulled out by him. He gently raised his wand.

Memories are scattered by the wind and snow.

The nimble phoenix caught it.

next second.

A silver glint flashed in Irving's grey eyes.

His gaze seemed to be fixed on the phoenix.

"I see~" Owen sighed softly.

Through the filter of the guardian angel.

He finally saw the true nature of those hairy, alien monsters.

"No wonder every monster's head is made up of various animal heads. So that's why—"

So those were once the guardian spirits of wizards!

The animal's head, like a cocoon, protected the wizard's last consciousness and soul.

This is both a shackle and the central hub of manipulation.

An unknown external god manipulates the consciousness within the cocoon, thereby controlling these unborn beings.

This is an extremely efficient control method.

It is far more powerful than the Soul-Stealing Curse.

Within that cocoon, the whispers of the Outer God may be repeating themselves at all times.

After understanding all of this.

Irving immediately knew what to do.

As long as he can break through the cocoon, these unborn beings will naturally break free from the control of the Outer God.

He doesn't know what will happen next, but there's absolutely no problem with doing this.

The next second, the sacred phoenix swept across the heads of the dead.

Irving stood atop the dragon, gazing indifferently at everything below.

The divine fire on the wings fell like stars upon the terrifying monster's head.

But it's not burning.

It's not about instigation, but about encouragement.

Every glimmer of starlight was filled with his most joyful emotions.

These will be catalysts.

It is to awaken the consciousness within the cocoon, to give them weapons, and to enable them to breach the monster's body from within.

"Bang!"

A strange, cracking sound, like something breaking, rang out.

The faint light from the wings fell upon a dead being with a lion's head.

Then, amidst the utter shock of the many horsemen on the high walls...

The dead being suddenly paused.

Then, mechanically, it continued to rush forward a few more steps.

Then it stopped.

It stared blankly at its surroundings.

Then it let out a heart-wrenching roar.

"Ahhh~~~"

He held his head in his hands.

It was like trying to stop my head from exploding.

And its head really was constantly developing cracks.

Little by little, from nothing to something. Cracks quickly covered the entire animal's head.

Then there was a "bang".

My brain exploded.

A mist shimmering with silver light emanated from it.

Irving squinted, scrutinizing him with an unprecedented level of caution.

The mist was so thin that it seemed it could be blown away with a single breath at any moment.

It resembles an embryo.

It's tiny, like a tender sprout!

"What is that?"

"How could such a thing be inside a monster's head?"

"Look, it seems to have grown bigger."

The horseman cried out.

Because they saw that, under the influence of the phoenix's intense emotions, the divine fire nourished the embryos, causing them to grow rapidly.

Soon, a naked man with a weathered face, who looked to be about fifty years old, was born from nothingness.

He gazed at the figure on the silver back in the sky.

His eyes were filled with gratitude.

"Thank you," he said.

Then its whole body emitted a dazzling silver light.

In the dim light, Irving seemed to see a door, a curtain.

The free spirit passed through the curtain and set off on the next journey, that greater adventure.

His body, which remained in the mortal world, was like a withered tree.

It collapsed with a crash in the last glimmer of silver light.

This is not the end.

The headless body collapsed and shattered suddenly, like broken glass, and then countless other souls escaped from the prison.

Sailing towards the distance.

"As expected?" Irving thought to himself.

"The bodies of the dead are just boxes. They cannot 'digest' the souls they devour. They must find an altar to offer the souls they devour to the unknown Outer God."

His gaze was clear.

Watching the petal-shaped soul, like a fallen flower, being carried by the wind and drifting into the distance.

Legend has it that in a Far Eastern country, there is a magical plant called the Spirit Blossom Tree.

When the Spirit Flower blooms, it connects to the spiritual world of a soul.

Drink the flower dew and open your heart to begin your journey of spiritual awakening.

A world within flowers, explaining the projected illusions of this world.

Crossing the Yin-Yang Gate shrouded in a white mist, one can arrive in the world of the dead through spiritual projection.

Irving gazed at the falling petals.

He had always thought this was just one of the myths from the Ming Dynasty in the Far East. But today, when he saw these petals, he realized that in the magical world, myths might just be an objective description of history.

For example, the gods that Muggles talk about are actually just a group of audacious wizards.

In that era when wizards and Muggles lived together.

It is not surprising that the power of an individual is passed down through myths and legends.

—Take a deep breath of the cold air.

Irving resisted the urge in his mind to drink the dew of the Blooming Spirit Flower and to see that great mother again.

It's not the right time yet.

he knows.

Perhaps there will be an opportunity in the future.

All around, petals float in the air, and through the transparent stamens, you can see the souls within many flowers.

Most of them are not human; they are creatures such as giant spiders, centaurs, or other magical animals.

Looking out, the sea of ​​flowers resembled a river.

Irving doesn't believe they can all be resurrected.

Because the physical body that carries the soul has been destroyed.

These ordinary undead beings, while devouring souls, will first suck the flesh and blood of their victims.

The soul can be returned, but flesh and blood cannot.

The body is already dead, the heart has stopped. How can it be resurrected?

It's a zombie!

—But that one, he looks like an advanced version of the Deathborn.

In its blood mist state, it seems to only absorb the souls of its victims.

"Huh? Trying to run away?"

As expected, unlike ordinary unborn beings, the Blood Ancestor retained many human consciousnesses, primarily the consciousness to respond to crises.

Whether it was in previous encounters or this one.

When he senses a threat or injury, he will immediately flee to save himself.

Similarly, this time he did not hesitate, nor did he show the slightest delay.

Before the phoenix could even get close to him, it turned into a blood mist and rushed into the depths of the forbidden forest.

Unfortunately, blood mist is still just blood mist.

It doesn't have wings!

Owen has already integrated his consciousness into his guardian spirit, allowing him to control the phoenix from an extremely long distance.

"Clang clang~~~"

A loud phoenix cry pierced the darkness and chased after it.

Wherever it went, the dead beings below seemed to emerge from their cocoons and be reborn, their petals and stamens reflecting the light of the guardian deity, spreading continuously across the land.

It almost covered the entire centaur city.

Hagrid, Luna, and the centaurs who rushed over had to squint their eyes.

Shocked, I stared in amazement through the gaps in my fingernails at the shells that had suddenly blossomed into flowers.

"Incredible!"

"Is that the flower of the soul?"

"I have never seen such a magical plant before," Hagrid said cautiously.

He couldn't tell whether the petals were real or not.

Because, the petals, upon approaching a living person, suddenly snapped open as if they were opposite magnetic poles.

It's as if your soul kicked away the intruder that was trying to take over your body.

Although the kick was very small.

So small that they had to squint, afraid that a petal might actually get into their eyes.

"Look there!" a centaur screamed.

Everyone immediately looked over.

As the light shone upon the earth, the entire body of the Dead One seemed to transform into a tree of souls.

The tree's sprawling roots and upward-reaching branches are the other souls imprisoned in the box, which dissipate as petals.

The body of the dead is like the main body of a tree. The fruit it bears is the guardian spirit of the dead himself.

"Has the soul returned to the tree?"

As Irving watched this scene, a strong sense of déjà vu gave him a chilling feeling that an unparalleled will was spying on this world.

"It's just an illusion!" he said.

Then, calming down, he continued to control the phoenix to pursue the Blood Ancestor.

The crowd booed and silently watched Irving's retreating figure.

At that moment, the young child displayed a leadership quality.

Everyone looked up at him, a silent expectation hanging over him.

On the other hand, Irving was more relaxed than others imagined.

The process of hunting down the Blood Ancestor went even more smoothly than he had imagined.

The phoenix's spiritual fire landed on him.

It's like a drop of water falling into a pan of oil.

Legend has it that the dead are baptized by spirit fire, a magic performed only by those who serve the dead.

A message suddenly popped into Owen's head: perhaps a blessing left by the centaur sage Chiron, which also included some knowledge from ancient times.

He wasn't particularly surprised.

Because at this moment, his mind was indeed churning with a lot of magical knowledge that he had never heard of before, or even imagined.

It can only be said that in that ancient era when there were no taboos, the wizards of that time were more like whispering demons than they are now.

Judging by Voldemort's level of brutality, he was only at the level of an ordinary ancient dark wizard.

He could even be described as kind.

Because no matter how cruel Voldemort was, he always upheld his pride as a human being and as a wizard with noble blood.

Those ancient black wizards had absolutely no humanity.

Those horrific experiments, which were so outrageous that even mentioning them could trigger a wave of malice, were commonplace research at the time.

"Phew~"

Irving uttered a part of his lingering regret.

Then, he calmed down and began to attack Blood Ancestor.

—The spiritual fire continued to scorch his body, and his blood continued to boil and evaporate.

Soon, many holes appeared in his body.

It looks quite terrifying.

But this is not over yet.

The same cracks appeared on his body as well.

Like a shattered porcelain doll, a wisp of silver mist flowed out along with the blood.

Then it kept churning, and finally it seemed to be vomiting out.

His soul, his original soul, was laid bare before Irving's eyes.

He was a rather handsome man with delicate features, looking quite young. He had a remarkably good-looking appearance.

His long, wavy hair cascaded down his shoulders, giving him a similar air to Sirius Black, but with an even more sinister quality.

He has to be said, he is a very charming young man.

Apart from those hateful eyes.

Yes, as the one who killed him, Owen rolled his eyes and stood on the silver dragon's back, staring at him.

"What are you looking at! Trying to come back to life?"

"People die when they're killed. When you kill someone, you should be prepared to be killed yourself. Now, why are you staring at me like that?"

He said it without any politeness.

"You're just too bad. You even got killed after trying to sneak up on someone."

"From another perspective, I'm now helping you break free from the control of the Outer God. You should be thanking me."

As soon as he finished speaking, he saw the figure formed from the silver mist angrily open its mouth and utter a word that started with 'F', a word that he had automatically blocked out.

Then came words starting with 'S', and the insults became even more intense.

Then, suddenly, a dark blue gate appeared abruptly on the ground.

Then, from within the dazzling white light, many people emerged.

This farce has only just come to an end.

"This research is very interesting." Then a boy dressed in a fitted white and gray outfit and leaning on a cane came out.

He had gray hair and brown eyes full of joy.

Irving recognized that joy; he had the same expression when he discovered a new research topic.

"This discovery is revolutionary. We can seek cooperation."

He spoke to another older, red-haired woman behind him.

Then he seemed to notice something.

They watched as Owen descended from the heavens, wand in hand, frowning as he cautiously observed them.

The boy smiled back at him.

Then he nodded.

He took an unfamiliar device out of his pocket.

Owen saw it clearly; it was a cylindrical, Rubik's Cube-like magical device composed of countless cubes.

His fingers lightly touched the cubes, tapping them rhythmically.

Then, the magical device suddenly emitted an extremely dazzling blue light. To Owen's astonishment, the Blood Ancestor's soul, which was about to enter the veil, seemed to be summoned by something.

It was directly absorbed into the Rubik's Cube.

Its color changed from blue to dark purple.

Ultimately, it fell into the boy's hands.

"Incredible. A marvelous alchemical artifact, a device capable of holding a soul—this is the first time I've ever seen anything like it." Owen's interest was piqued.

I was about to go up and call a friend.

Regardless of whether the other party is good or bad, just go up and make an impression first!

Once we make contact, with his silver tongue, how could we not manage it?

They are capable of creating alchemical artifacts of this caliber.

It's not something an ordinary wizard could do.

Even if you give Dumbledore time, he'll still have to think it over.

In Irving's view, the only person who could easily create such a device is probably Nick!

This is a real talent!!!

Irving's eyes gleamed green as he said, "Hello."

He stretched out his hand.

The other person did not refuse and shook hands with him directly.

"Kyrie~ Kyrie, just call me Kyrie Undine!"

"Victor, Victor Nome." The boy looked somewhat reserved, as if he were a little shy.

In short, his tone was monotonous and his introduction was perfunctory.

He didn't want to have much to do with Irving.

I just want to leave this place.

Because after exchanging names, he turned around and wanted to leave.

"Victor?" Owen was taken aback.

He then pulled the guy back with a quick effort.

The name Victor is not rare; many people use it.

However, the sight of that wonderful magical device made Owen almost immediately think of someone.

"You don't happen to have a friend named Jess, do you?!" Owen, acting like a curious child, kept bombarding him with new questions. "You guys look like you're in cahoots, which organization are you with?"

"I've never heard of an organization in the magical world capable of cultivating such outstanding talent!"

"Your accent sounds German? Or Austrian? Are you a student at Durmstrang Academy of Magic?"

"You look so young! Are you even twenty? Such a young alchemical genius, I've never seen your name in any academic journals."

He rattled off questions like a bomber, bombarding the boy whose face was already showing signs of distress.

"Interested in joining our organization?"

"Have you heard of Saints? Europe's largest talent training base. They specialize in sending geniuses to the European magical world."

"There are many geniuses like you among the Saints. If you join, besides receiving personal guidance from the legendary wizard Grindelwald, who was said to be able to rival Dumbledore, the gathering of geniuses will also spark more inspiration in you. For you magic alchemists, inspiration is the most important thing—a great direction is far more useful than burying yourself in hard work, isn't it?"

"Hey! I see you're still a little hesitant, friend. Hurry up and you might get a chance to take a photo with Mr. Grindelwald. Aren't you tempted?"

At this moment, Owen was embodying the world's top marketing genius. He used his pervasive persuasive skills to continuously win over the seemingly brilliant young man in front of him.

His incessant chatter also caught the eye of the other saints who emerged from the door.

Kent and Winston looked embarrassed.

Garona suppressed her laughter, covering her mouth with her hand, afraid that she would burst out laughing.

Mr. Malfoy, who had followed, looked puzzled.

Aren't both of these people saints?

What? They don't know each other?

But the woman with the cascading fiery red hair and eyes that shone like the starry sky revealed an expression completely different from the others.

Her deep blue eyes reflected a figure—a woman with the same silver hair as her, or perhaps she had grown her own long, cascading silver hair because of her.

The man's voice still echoed in her ears.

"Hey! I see you're still a bit hesitant, young lady. You know, geniuses always live in groups, because that sparks more inspiration. So, how about joining us?"

(End of this chapter)