Chapter 836: Chapter 235: Scheming and Merlin’s Memories (2)
"I told you, besides Slytherin, there’s another person hidden... someone potentially even harder to deal with than Slytherin." Grindelwald raised an eyebrow in slight astonishment.
His tone carried a hint of gravity.
"But... what kind of person?" Dumbledore raised a finger, seemingly about to lightly touch the portrait, but he retracted it before making contact.
"I trust my own judgment."
He was not swayed by his curiosity.
Instead, he turned to look at Grindelwald.
"It’s time to verify our previous idea."
Dumbledore’s tone revealed an emotion he could hardly suppress, even with his self-control, he couldn’t completely hide the urgency in his eyes.
...
On the other side.
Inside the Ravenclaw dormitory.
After Merlin cast the spell, the air seemed to vibrate with invisible strings being plucked, emitting faint tremors. Ian felt a blur before his eyes as the white threads pulled from Merlin’s temples filled his vision.
He saw.
The original reality scene fragmented like broken glass, replaced by countless shimmering threads, with the surrounding scene seeming to be kneaded and distorted by an invisible hand.
The threads entwined and wove swiftly, creating a brand new scene.
"Ancient magic."
Ian stood aside, watching Merlin’s casting process intently, his gaze filled with admiration for the subtle aspects of magic, mixed with some contemplation. It wasn’t his first encounter with this kind of memory magic that tours memories; he had even engaged in learning and exploring it himself.
However, the magic Merlin cast, whether in terms of power usage or the presentation of effects, gave him new insights into memory magic. Those threads were not just carriers of memories, but extensions of Merlin’s emotions, each one carrying his joys, anger, sorrows, and happiness.
"Is it okay for you to cast magic like this?" The little wizard looked at Merlin, remembering the restriction preventing this Wizard King from using overly complex magic.
"I’m just wasted, not already dead." Merlin’s response was quite direct. Under his control, the memory scene began to fully construct.
The surrounding threads gradually dissipated, replaced by a fairytale-like forest. Sunlight filtered through the gaps in the leaves, creating mottled light and shadow on the ground. The air was filled with the scent of grass and wildflowers, while a stately monastery stood in the distance, its white walls gleaming under the sunlight.
Ian again felt the familiar traces of divine spirits.
"Can you simulate even this in memory?" Ian silently clicked his tongue, impressed that over two thousand years, Merlin’s progress in magic was indeed far superior to his "youthful" state.
"Whether you admit it or not, I am the pinnacle of magic." Merlin regained his confidence, yet seeing the little wizard looking over, his proud chest wasn’t quite as raised.
"Where is this place?"
Ian looked around, curious. This forest was unlike any place he had seen before, as if every tree and leaf carried a lively life force. Looking down, he saw soft grass covering the ground, stepping on it felt like stepping on clouds.
In the dreamlike forest.
Tall trees rose from the ground, the trunks so thick that several people couldn’t encircle them, lush branches interweaving to block out the sky, except for the mottled sunlight shining through the gaps onto the ground.
The air carried the fresh fragrance of flora, mingled with a faint floral scent. Ian’s gaze wandered around the forest, soon noticing the figure of a little boy.
"That’s me when I was young," Merlin explained, his eyes nostalgic. The young Merlin was happily running and playing in the forest, with an innocent smile on his face, stopping to carefully hand a handful of nuts to a squirrel.
The little squirrels cheerfully accepted the food, holding it with small paws and eating with relish, occasionally rubbing their small heads against young Merlin’s hand affectionately.
"You really were adorable as a child."
Ian couldn’t help but laugh, his tone teasing.
Merlin didn’t reply, simply watching his younger self with gentle nostalgia in his eyes. His mouth subtly curved, as if recalling those carefree days.
At that moment.
Fluffy little rabbits emerged from the forest, young Merlin crouched down and began to converse, the rabbits’ ears perked up as if earnestly listening to Merlin’s words.
"What is this? A Druid?"
Ian’s gaze flickered between young Merlin and the surrounding animals, feeling a slight admiration. He noted that young Merlin’s interactions with the animals weren’t merely feeding, but a deeper communication. The animals seemed to understand his words and even respond to his emotions.
Faced with Ian’s inquiry, Merlin nodded and softly said, "Yes, I could communicate with animals from a young age. This ability indeed belongs to the Druid’s abilities."
Unquestionably.
Merlin was indeed exceptionally gifted.
"You’re really a talent freak," even the little wizard couldn’t help but feel a bit envious, recalling his tedious learning process for various languages.
