I, Hogwarts Second Time Around.

Chapter 531 An Unbeatable Enemy

The seductive whisper finally released Irving's overwhelmed rationality.

A fierce storm from the stars has instilled fear in people; only shadows and solitary corners are the safest places.

May Heaven forgive humanity's unprovoked offenses and not immediately unleash karmic fire to cleanse this sinful world.

Perhaps there is still time—where are you? Go and experience the fleeting joys of love and adventure, even if they are only as brief as fireworks, but compared to the eternal night that follows, this will be the last ripple you can cherish in the stagnant future.

The young wizards of Hogwarts were all preparing to leave the castle.

Although the professors still advised against going to Hogsmeade Village, it was clear that the village had become lively again.

In the school clinic, Irving stared wide-eyed at the ceiling.

He has been awake for three or four days.

But he remained in that position, motionless and silent, just staring at the ceiling.

His emerald green eyes were lifeless and dull.

During that time, many people came to see him, but Irving only gave them a minimal greeting, as if he were merely proving that he was not dead.

An ominous seed was planted in the school clinic, taking root and sprouting, which everyone who entered could feel—the unease and the madness suppressed beneath the calm.

Hermione is the young wizard who visits the school infirmary the most; she practically treats it like the Gryffindor common room.

She listened to all the incoherent murmurs he uttered in his unconscious state.

It was like a prophecy, or perhaps a warning.

—Dumbledore came again today.

He looked somewhat impatient.

Behind the semi-circular glasses, bloodshot veins surrounded his deep blue eyes.

He looked like he hadn't rested in centuries.

He looked terribly haggard, as if he would collapse randomly on his deathbed and then enter eternal sleep.

But this was already considered good. Compared to the others, those guild wizards who also participated in the restoration of the bas-relief, who collapsed one after another while working, his willpower was terrifyingly strong.

"Nothing has changed today?" The old man stood by Irving's bedside for a long time.

"Hmm." Sitting by the hospital bed, Miss Granger, who looked equally haggard, nodded.

"Alright," Dumbledore said with some regret.

"Tomorrow is the day we leave school. I need to talk to you about some arrangements, specifically concerning your parents."

"What professor do you want to talk about?" Hermione looked up and asked, gazing at Dumbledore's tired face.

"In the coming year, Voldemort will likely gain immense power and return, and that will be the day of the final battle. You—if your parents are still in England—will be in great danger," Dumbledore said. "Although we have done a good job protecting them over the past two years, we still cannot be complacent about the future."

Hermione nodded silently.

She understood everything Dumbledore said.

She is already a thorn in Voldemort's side, and her parents are likely to become key targets of the Death Eaters.

"What are your plans?"

"No—" Dumbledore said, "It's the Rozier family. They have businesses all over the world; that's how it is with large families. Ms. Vanda Rozier wants to arrange for your parents to go to the Far East."

"Far East?"

"Yes, it's one of the few safe havens there. It's difficult for the Death Eaters to infiltrate the Far East. Rozier will give your parents a new identity, a new look. Perhaps—" The old professor suddenly paused, "they should first let go of all memories of you, of magic. This is the best way to ensure their safety."

A brief silence fell over the school clinic.

Hermione lowered her head and didn't say a word.

She didn't know what had happened to Owen—Dumbledore hadn't told her.

But just from the aura emanating from those wizards and professors, she knew it was definitely not good news.

After Voldemort's physical body was destroyed, the relaxed atmosphere of the past few months vanished, and tension and anxiety returned to the castle.

She wanted to ask Dumbledore if it was really that dangerous. They had experienced it in the past year or two, but reason told her that Dumbledore's actions were reasonable and the right choice.

But—is it really necessary to go to that extent?

If her parents forget her, then she will have nothing left.

"I know this is difficult," Dumbledore broke the silence.

"But this is indeed the safest approach."

"Where's Harry?" Hermione suddenly asked. "And his aunt and uncle?"

"We will also arrange for them to leave England before Harry turns seventeen," Dumbledore replied.

"."

Another silence followed.

About a minute later, Hermione spoke again, "I'll go home and talk to them."

"I'm sorry—" Dumbledore said sadly. For this old man, what he cared about most was family, because in the past, he had failed to grasp his own share of family.

"No, Professor. I know you've always been thinking of me. If you believe this is the right choice, then I will do it. I trust you."

"Thank you for your trust, Hermione," said Dumbledore.

A look of relief appeared on his face.

Then, he shifted his gaze from Hermione to Owen on the hospital bed.

The boy was still staring at the ceiling.

But just as Dumbledore was about to leave, those emerald green eyes met his gaze.

"We need to talk."

A flat, emotionless voice rang out.

"Of course," said Dumbledore.

The next second, Irving's body floated up like a cloud and then landed directly on the ground.

"Owen—" Hermione looked at him in surprise.

"Sorry, I'll come find you again later."

After saying that, Irving walked absentmindedly towards the school clinic.

Dumbledore nodded reassuringly to Hermione, then left as well.

The two strolled leisurely through the castle corridors toward the principal's office on the eighth floor.

A moment later, the oak door was pushed open.

Irving strode in.

The room had changed dramatically since his last visit.

The biggest change was that all the magical items that used to fill the table, including all sorts of strange and wonderful things, had disappeared.

Today, what's on top are stacks of stone slabs and a large amount of parchment.

"Would you like some tea? With sugar or milk?" Dumbledore asked, walking to the table. "I remember you have a sweet tooth."

"I don't feel hungry, Professor."

"That's quite surprising, considering you haven't eaten for a month. While potions can provide nutrients, they can't fill your stomach."

“If it were a human, perhaps they would be hungry,” Owen said. Then his gaze fell on the stone carvings on the table. “About the history of the past—how much do you know now?”

"A very small part," Dumbledore said.

He calmly and quickly recounted all of Grindelwald's speculations and history about the gods and the past tens of thousands of years.

Irving listened quietly without saying a word.

The portraits on the walls were also carefully examined by successive principals.

Principal Dexter, in particular, considered himself to be in the know.

Although most of what Dumbledore said, he had never heard of before.

"No—" After listening to Dumbledore's explanation, Owen immediately dismissed several of his grandfather's conjectures. "The real threat to us is not the Outer Gods. The Outer Gods are indeed powerful, but they are not invincible."

"He had previously defeated the Outer God essence within the divinely ordained towers of India."

"So, who is our enemy?"

"We've made a mistake," Irving said, his expression pained. "We've been wrong all along."

We naively believe that Outer Gods, or the gods, are merely powerful sorcerers, like the despicable Helbo, the first ancient Greek dark sorcerer to create Horcruxes. If this figure were still alive, wouldn't a sorcerer who has lived for over two thousand years also be considered a god?

Moreover, the magic he possesses far surpasses that of ordinary wizards, coupled with two thousand years of accumulated experience. It seems that calling him a god would not be an exaggeration.

But no—the Outer God was merely a puppet, an empty shell. He was just a pathetic creature who, tens of thousands of years ago, while researching soul magic, inadvertently glimpsed that indescribable god and then went mad.

Mortals cannot utter the name of God; they merely refer to Him as the "Supreme Will." This may be a manifestation of some cosmic rule, a shadow of a higher-dimensional being with powerful spiritual abilities, capable of influencing humanity through dreams and telepathy. It can spread terrifying nightmares and maddening knowledge to any corner of the world.

"We know so little about Zhi," Irving said. "The only thing we can trust right now is Merlin's plan."

He'd never told me about his plan, but now I could roughly guess. It was nothing more than having me merge all the power of the existing Outer Gods on Earth, to defeat them. But there was a problem—the Outer Gods could be defeated, but what about the "Supreme Will"? What if Merlin's brilliant mind was also subject to higher-dimensional interference? What if everything he believed was merely the will of God? Owen grew increasingly agitated.

Many guesses and whispers flashed through his mind.

Among them is the Tower of the Far North, and the words the Outer God spoke to him.

host?

Is that what you're calling him?

Why does it call itself that—is it because the Outer God aspect it embodies is too obvious?

But it is part of the essence of the Outer Gods. Who would call themselves the Lord?

Owen dared not think about it too much, because when he realized that the mad wizard, the "master" that Ionia spoke of, only represented one thing, he couldn't help but feel a sense of fear.

"The Divine Tower in the far north was among the first to be built, and the portion of the Outer Gods imprisoned within it is essentially the largest and strongest. During the spellcasters' 'Age of Gods,' they possessed even greater power. They could even extract the power of the Outer Gods for their own use, just like that pool."

But afterwards—the level of construction of the Divine Tower also symbolized the decline of the wizards, from the initial chains that could bind the Outer Gods to the later towers covered with ancient runes, which could not be completely controlled.

That city—that lost city—was a sacred place for spellcasters tens of thousands of years ago, one of the few remaining traces of the Golden Age.

Those caves and mountain tunnels were once the dwelling places of the spellcaster's servants, the "Hundred Forms." The open spaces around the city were where they grazed their animals, and there were also the city squares—"

Irving said a lot in one breath.

From the ancient stars falling to Earth, to humanity possessing magic, and then to the glorious era of magic.

It lasted a full two hours.

He couldn't stop himself from continuing his story.

Perhaps that's why it made him feel a little more relaxed.

Of course, what he said is also important, because clues to breaking the deadlock are often hidden in the details. Although Irving doesn't think there's anything left to break the deadlock.

"The history of wizards is a history of forgetting. Since the end of the Age of Gods, our history has been constantly diminished and altered because the construction of the seven divinely ordained towers spanned tens of thousands of years. Therefore, the historical texts unearthed from the divinely ordained towers, such as those from India, Australia, and Brazil, all show more or less deviations."

This discrepancy is also reflected in people. For example, the remnant soul of Chiron from the centaur tribe knows a history that differs from the history unearthed in the Tower of the Gods in Brazil. There is also the history known to successive heirs, the history known to Principal Dexter, and perhaps even the history as Merlin perceives it.

This error caused some very serious incidents, including the confusion between the Supreme Will and the Outer Gods. Now, whatever plans we have, it's too late to implement them.

The principal's office was initially deathly silent.

Then a heated exchange broke out.

The portraits are talking to each other.

In particular, Principal Dexter was the most shocked by the oldest one, because what Owen said was completely different from the truth he had accepted.

In the past, when the four founders were still alive, they had already discovered the existence of ancient magic.

After all, those four were legendary figures at the pinnacle of wizarding, so discovering ancient magic was not a difficult task for them.

Similarly, they also discovered the disasters brought about by ancient magic.

Perhaps it was Merlin's instruction, or perhaps it was the 'truth' unearthed from the ruins of the Camelot dynasty. This made it very clear to the founders that there was an heir.

They simply attributed the past disasters to their successors, believing that ambitious figures like Voldemort had inherited ancient magic, a power beyond imagination.

When they discovered this force in a certain region of Britain, they sealed it off tightly.

The expectation is that they will choose suitable successors to inherit the power, rather than allowing it to be brutally taken away.

Principal Dexter inherited this will from the four founders.

Perhaps the founders never realized that what they had discovered was actually a magnificent, one of the earliest divinely inspired towers. And that ancient magic was simply leaking from within the tower.

(End of this chapter)