I, Hogwarts Second Time Around.

Chapter 252 Merlin's Secret Chamber

But it's certain that Merlin knew about Hogwarts, given his exceptionally long lifespan.

The last record of him was made more than 500 years ago.

After experiencing the first Fairy War, and witnessing the dissolution of the British Wizarding Council (which was not actually the case) and its functions being taken over by the Ministry of Magic, the International Wizarding Federation was born.

He disappeared after the power structure of the wizarding world was consolidated.

His departure left countless secrets in the magical world.

Some say Merlin is still alive, others say he is dead.

Some say he returned to Avalon, the legendary land of eternal slumber.

No one could say for sure what happened to him; all that was known was that the magical world hadn't heard his voice for five hundred years.

Of the above speculations, Irving is most inclined to believe that Merlin eventually returned to Avalon and rested there in peace.

Merlin in this world is not immortal.

He must also possess the bloodline of some kind of magical creature, and his lifespan is quite long. But no matter how long his lifespan is, he will eventually grow old and reach the end.

Looking at the Order of Merlin before me.

Irving was actually full of doubts.

This is the first time Merlin has been linked to Hogwarts.

"Camelot," Owen said in a deep voice, looking at the medals on the distant castle that almost obscured his wand, and a strange thought suddenly welled up in his mind.

If he could, he would love to speak directly with the greatest wizard.

Inquire about the legends surrounding the king and the wizard.

Irving reached out and braced himself against the door.

It only took a little effort.

The stone door, which looked to weigh at least a thousand pounds, was pushed open by him with a resounding thud.

In an instant, a refreshing fragrance wafted over.

A breeze carrying some kind of pink petal wafted towards us.

Owen and Hermione instinctively covered their eyes.

In his dazed state, he seemed to see a man dressed in colorful clothes, with white hair, purple eyes, and an unbelievably handsome appearance.

He winked at the little wizard, a smile curving his lips upwards.

Then it disappeared.

After a long while, once the air had circulated, the seemingly boiling petals slowly fell.

"Oh my God!" Hermes exclaimed.

Her face was bright red.

Pink petals covered the ground.

It spread to the edges that are invisible to humans.

Standing at the entrance and looking inside, the corridor resembled the garden of Beauxbatons School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, breathtakingly beautiful.

Miss Granger covered her mouth, too shocked to speak.

"Wherever Merlin, the Flower Magician, is, there will be no hell, but a land full of hope."

Owen sighed softly. He too was stunned by the sight of petals scattered all over the ground.

Who would have thought that behind this seemingly imposing gate lies such a—well—"cozy" atmosphere?

The three of them walked slowly forward, their feet treading on the flower petals.

"This seems to be... magic?"

Yes, as he crouched down to pick up a petal, the instant he touched it, Owen realized that what was beneath his feet was not something real, but something created and transmitted by ancient magic.

"What a waste!" Viktor said in a deep voice, leaning on his cane.

"These should be of greater use." His voice was soft, like that of someone recovering from a serious illness, but his tone was exceptionally firm.

He crouched down and reached out to pick up some flower petals.

The pink flowers bloomed beautifully in his hands.

But in just a moment, the magical structure contained within the flower was on the verge of collapse due to the change in its physical form, and it quickly disappeared in his hands like fireworks.

"People should also have the right to enjoy things. I think these flowers are quite beautiful. When wizards have the time and energy, they should create something like this—" Owen waved his wand.

The flowers, constructed from pure ancient magic, then flowed forth.

Slowly, they converge in the air to form a river—a sea of ​​flowers.

"Enjoy?" Victor glanced at Owen through the magical lens in his left eye.

The metal cane struck the marble heavily, producing a clanging sound.

"The mission of a magician is to explore, to explore ways to make the world a better place."

Do you think this world is a beautiful place?

His slightly tilted body made him appear exceptionally tall. "Don't waste your talent, Irving," he said. "When you have the power to change the world, you must have even greater and more ambitious aspirations."

Viktor's voice was very soft; he wasn't speaking in a lecturing or educational tone—in a condescending manner.

His calm voice was as if he were describing something trivial, as indifferent as deciding what to eat tomorrow.

"Your talent was earned with your mother's life."

Viktor walked past him. "If the world doesn't change at all after you die, then you should be ashamed!"

He spoke calmly, a hint of sadness in his eyes.

Surprisingly, Irving neither refuted him nor broke the heavy atmosphere with a joke.

He sensed an unprecedented purity in the man before him, unlike any other wizard he knew, not even Dumbledore.

The old headmaster had no intention of changing the world or benefiting humanity. He only wanted to protect his own little corner of the world—Hogwarts.

Viktor was purer than anyone else, as if he were the embodiment of some kind of ideal.

Miss Granger, after gazing deeply at the beautiful and vibrant sea of ​​flowers, resolutely turned her gaze to the mysterious man.

A glint flashed in his eyes.

Without realizing it, Miss Granger started walking and followed.

"Ideals—" Irving said in a deep voice, "Can they really change the world?"

The group continued walking forward.

The walls on both sides of the corridor are no longer rough stone walls, but covered with a layer of blue, gem-like colored carvings.

It could be gold, or it could be brass. These materials, drawn with threads, create historical scenes on the painted sculptures.

He saw a wizard raising his wand, and the surrounding mountains and rivers were turned upside down.

He saw a brave man holding a sword, facing alone a mountain of demons.

He saw a creature that was not human, which offered up a sword from the bottom of the lake and handed it to a man dressed in armor.

His fingers lightly traced the relief, the ancient runes remaining on the wall still burning. That awe-inspiring power had not faded for millennia. The repeated scrutiny unmistakably indicated that this was the temple of the most powerful wizard, burying potentially great miracles.

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.

The three of them continued walking for more than ten minutes before finally finishing the corridor.

The space inside this underground chamber is larger than imagined; Owen guessed it would take half an hour to walk around inside and back.

Half an hour in the castle would be enough for him to stroll from the astronomy classroom on the eighth floor to Hagrid's cabin.

Therefore, this area is obviously abnormal; it must have been subjected to an infinite expansion spell.

At the end of the corridor, a huge palace appeared.

It was like an auditorium, magnificent and splendid.

The Gothic buildings on both sides are covered with all kinds of sculptures.

Almost all of them were human-shaped sculptures, but Irving didn't recognize any of them. They were probably some famous ancient wizards.

Looking up—the ceiling reflected the sky outside, just like in the auditorium.

The only difference was that in the center of the palace stood an oak tree that emitted a faint purple-blue light; it was so tall.

It was as if it was supporting the dome.

Countless vines hang gently from the branches of the oak tree, resembling a forest.

"This place—"

"Ancient magic reacts strongly to organic matter. You can try to manipulate them." Victor stood at the end of the corridor, his eyes revealing neither joy nor sorrow.

He was just lost in thought.

Upon hearing the sound, Owen extended his wand, the tip of which glowed faintly.

A surge of powerful ancient magic then emerged.

The forest in front of them, as if summoned by some force, opened a path for them.

In fact, Owen had already discovered the wonders of ancient magic.

This is a true magic that can change the structure of matter, a miraculous magic that can overturn Gamp's fundamental laws of transformation.

—As the first Minister in the history of the Ministry of Magic.

Besides guiding the British wizarding world to comply with the Federation's instructions and strictly enforce the Law of Secrecy to keep the wizarding world hidden, Yurik Gump's greatest achievement in the history of magic was summarizing the basic rules of Transfiguration.

Five things that cannot be obtained through transfiguration.

It cannot be deformed into food.

It cannot transform into magical items.

It cannot be given life.

It cannot be permanently effective.

We cannot create something out of nothing.

The first and fifth reasons are for the same reason: wizards cannot change the original structure of matter. That is, no matter how much I make a stone look like a roast duck, its essence is still a stone. It cannot be digested and absorbed just because it looks like a roast duck.

I can't conjure a roast duck out of thin air. Transfiguration can only 'modify' what already exists, not create something from nothing. (P.S.—Clear Water Like a Spring is a type of summoning spell.)

The second rule varies from person to person. It cannot be used to create magical items. Strictly speaking, it cannot be used to create magical items that the caster cannot understand or has no grasp of. If Sirius Black fully understands all the parts of the flying car, theoretically he can use it to create one directly.

As for granting life and permanence, there is no spell or magic that can give life to the dead or inorganic matter. The transformed animals are just puppets, and they will revert to their original forms once the magic dissipates.

Professor McGonagall explained this principle when the young wizards first started their classes.

Some guys just didn't really listen.

But once he truly mastered ancient magic, he immediately realized how extraordinary this magic was.

At least, he could actually turn a stone into a roast chicken and then trick Justin into eating it.

For a week, Justin ate Sanchez brand roast chicken every night.

It seems there are no problems.

As for giving him life, that's a bit troublesome, but it doesn't matter—once Justin dies from eating the stone, he can try to revive him.

—A muddy road appeared before us.

The vines spread out across the mud, creating a path.

Stepping on the vines, Owen led Hermione over.

Viktor watched the boy's figure from behind, frowning slightly, but said nothing.

He followed them straight ahead.

In front of the oak tree.

The three of them looked up and around.

The ground in front of them was made up of huge, smooth boulders, which were engraved with intricate and complex magical symbols.

It was a stone platform.

It was tightly entwined by green plants, obscuring its true appearance.

Irving cleared away the obstructing vines and discovered an irregular circular groove in the center of the stone platform.

"This—" Looking at the groove, Owen suddenly felt a sense of familiarity.

Turning his head, he saw that Victor had already taken the Rubik's Cube out of his pocket.

They definitely came prepared!

Irving was deep in thought.

I wonder to what extent this reformer, who left his mark on the history of Runeterra, has researched ancient magic.

Viktor, holding the magic, walked straight toward the stone platform.

Then he reached out and inserted the Rubik's Cube into the box.

Then, to Hermione's astonishment, the Rubik's Cube spun rapidly, its center seemingly containing gears, as countless ancient spells surged into the stone platform.

Then a golden, granular, unidentified substance flowed out from beneath the stone platform.

They piled up and overlapped one another, and soon the golden substance transformed into a mirror that was over ten feet long.

"Wow!"

This is the creative power of ancient magic.

"That must be gold wrapped in mithril," Owen guessed, looking in the mirror.

Because gold is more malleable than brass, and its magical properties are also better.

Although brass is cheaper, the actual price difference compared to gold is not that significant.

But Owen believed that the great magician Merlin surely wouldn't be short of money and unable to afford gold!

"Oh! Another young face. A new 'bud' has arrived in my garden."

As Irving was deep in thought, a young woman suddenly appeared in the mirror. She turned her head, her eyes filled with surprise, and then squeezed out from the edge of the portrait.

She had fiery red hair, styled into two braids that hung from her ears down to her chest and even her thighs.

His clear, large eyes were full of joy, and he had a high nose and a kind smile on his lips.

He was wearing an earth-yellow hat with scarlet flowers adorning the brim.

She was wearing a close-fitting green and yellow outfit, with a very narrow waist, reminiscent of medieval clothing.

Cross your arms and let them hang down to your abdomen.

That sun-like aura can make even a portrait feel warm.

"You're so beautiful," Owen said with a smile.

Oh—don't mistake his words for flattery.

In fact, this lady was indeed very beautiful, with a lovely face and a figure that was neither too thin nor too voluptuous, but rather just right—harmonious.

Yes—harmony.

This word perfectly describes this lady.

"Thank you!" the woman said warmly.

Then, as if she had discovered something, she suddenly looked at Owen.

"Are you a junior wizard from Hufflepuff School?"

The witch's eyes fell on the college badge on Owen's school uniform.

"Yes, and who are you?"

"Bridged. Bridged Weasley. Former Professor of Herbalism at Hogwarts, and Head of Hufflepuff," Bridged said gently, as tender as a spring breeze caressing the skin.

"Bridged?"

"Weasley?"

Owen and Miss Granger both exclaimed in surprise.

"etc!"

"Are you Headmistress Bridged?" Owen remembered that there was a Lady Bridged in the portraits of the past headmistresses in the Hufflepuff common room.

However, the portrait clearly depicts her in her later years.

That's why Irving didn't recognize him immediately.

"Surprised?" Dean Bridged covered her mouth and chuckled, her gaze fixed on Owen. Suddenly, another woman appeared in her portrait.

That was—the portrait of the elderly Headmaster Bridget in the Hufflepuff common room. "I've been watching you for a long time, Owen."

"Like the other headmasters (Hufflepuff's predecessors), I also believe the Sorting Hat made a mistake this time."

"Are you the inheritor of ancient magic from the previous generation?" Owen asked somewhat awkwardly, changing the subject.

Good heavens, it turns out the owner of the underground secret room was hanging in his lounge.

His pranks must have been seen by everyone, which is really embarrassing.

"She is the heir from the generation before hers," Dean Bridged explained. "She was unwilling to stay and undergo the test, so it's just a pity for me, a five-hundred-year-old man, to continue guarding this place."

"Leave a test behind?"

"You should know about the Outer Gods, right?" Dean Bridged's tone shifted, and the smile on his face faded slightly.

"Besides the watchtower left by the ancient wizards, each successor also left their legacy," she said solemnly. "To enable future generations to quickly master the power of ancient magic, the great wizard Merlin left this Chamber of Secrets at Hogwarts. Successive successors continuously reinforced it, eventually evolving into what you see today."

"What exactly is this training? And what can I gain from it?"

"Let's get real," Irving said, his eyes burning with enthusiasm.

With his abilities, passing this test would be a piece of cake for him.

This equipment was given away for free.

Dean Bridged saw the fervor in Owen's eyes and sighed. This child really didn't seem like someone from their academy. "The test for the successor is divided into three stages. I will conduct the first two stages, and the final stage will be set by the magic mentor Merlin himself. You don't need to pass all three stages. In fact, you can even skip them if you are confident enough in your magic."

You can also choose to complete only one level and obtain a portion of the heir's treasure.

If you pass both tests, then as the new successor, you will be qualified to test your successors.

"Merlin is also an heir to ancient magic?" Owen asked.

"Yes, he was also an heir, and the most powerful one at that. For 1,500 years, no successor has been able to successfully solve the problem he left behind."

"Is it difficult?" Irving asked.

"No—it has nothing to do with magic." As the one who controls the level, Dean Bridged has obviously passed two levels. Owen doesn't believe she would resist her curiosity and not continue. "That's why it's so difficult."

"Unrelated to magic?"

"When you get to the door, you'll know what's behind it. Want to give it a try?"

"Wait, Dean, you just mentioned a test for the heir. Can other wizards also undergo the test?" Owen suddenly asked.

"Of course—Hogwarts teaches all children regardless of their background. It's just that the previous generation of heirs didn't want to leave their portraits and didn't replenish the magic in the Chamber of Secrets, which is why no one has entered here for nearly a hundred years. In the past, many young wizards have accidentally wandered into this place."

As long as you can find the corresponding key!

(End of this chapter)