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His tone carried both awe and something more complicated—perhaps even relief. If Ian had managed to bring down Merlin, then his own defeat at Ian's hands didn't seem so pitiful.
"If Merlin couldn't beat you, then I surely can't either. I suppose that means Merlin and I are still in the same league after all."
Riddle's words hovered somewhere between bitter self-mockery and forced consolation.
This kind of rounding-up logic was very much Ian's style.
It seemed that even the Dark Lord had picked it up.
"To be honest, you really should have watched our battle. Then, you could spread the story in Azkaban later." Ian sounded genuinely a little regretful.
"Heh."
Riddle merely shook his head without answering. He had already resigned himself to being thrown into Azkaban. In fact, he almost longed to be there.
It was full of talented people who spoke eloquently, and there were no monsters lurking about. Compared to surviving in this terrifying ancient age, Azkaban seemed far preferable. After all, not everyone could adapt to and blend into such a dreadful time the way this little wizard had.
"When are you going to find the Time-Turner?" Riddle asked, unable to hide his impatience. He knew nothing about Ian's wager with Merlin, and his eagerness to return home was evident in his tone.
"I already took it from Merlin." Ian smiled faintly as he pulled a faintly glowing trinket from his pocket: an ancient Time-Turner.
Such alchemical artifacts were not tightly controlled in this era. Perhaps the Department of Mysteries had not yet been established, or if it existed, it had not yet grown into its full authority.
"Give me some time to study it," Ian said, turning the device over in his hand. Ancient alchemical instruments were structured very differently from what he was used to.
It would take effort to understand how it worked. Still, it wouldn't take too long. Alchemy often shared universal principles, so once you understood one system, you could usually bridge into another.
"No rush. Stay a few more days. I still have an apprentice to teach." Truth be told, if not for his homesickness, Ian would have liked to stay in this era a little longer.
He wanted to uncover hidden histories and savor more of the ancient culture and magic. He even wondered if the warrior goddess, once venerated by these ancient kingdoms, had faded into myth with their fall.
Of course, there was no need to rush.
The future would hold many more opportunities.
"You move fast!"
Riddle's eyes lit up. He stepped closer, eager to inspect the Time-Turner. Yet his gaze was soon drawn to the chess piece Ian was toying with in his other hand.
"What's that you're holding?" Riddle asked curiously.
At those words, Ian's brow furrowed. "Funny, I was about to ask you the same thing. I found this in Slytherin's Chamber. When you opened the Chamber all those years ago, why did you leave it there?"
"Were there other chess pieces in the chamber?" Ian pressed, hoping to glean some clue from Riddle.
But Riddle only looked more baffled than Ian.
"What chess piece?"
Riddle couldn't be faking; he had no way of hiding his true emotions from Ian. His bewilderment was genuine. He clearly had no idea what Ian was talking about.
"When you emptied Slytherin's Chamber, wasn't there a chess piece or chessboard inside?" Ian narrowed his eyes, surprise stirring in his chest.
"Of course not. Slytherin left behind many manuscripts and research notes, as well as some ancient items, but none of them were treasures. They were just things cluttering up his laboratory." Riddle answered honestly, his gaze falling once again to the king's piece in Ian's hand.
"You mean to say that you found this in a chamber that was supposed to be empty?" His eyes flickered slightly. The Dark Lord was no fool; he realized something unusual was at play, too.
"Mm." Ian nodded firmly.
Riddle hesitated for a moment before speaking in a low, uncertain voice. "Actually, I, or rather, Voldemort, always suspected that Slytherin may never have truly died."
Those words stirred Ian's thoughts.
Indeed.
If Merlin could live for thousands of years, then surely a fellow Legendary Wizard like Slytherin could as well. Perhaps all four founders had found ways to evade, or even conquer, death.
"After you cleared out the Chamber, it seems someone else must have entered it. The question is whether that someone was Salazar Slytherin himself." Ian turned the faintly glowing chess piece over in his hand, his face betraying no emotion.
"Uh...don't keep bringing up how I 'emptied out' the Chamber," Riddle said defensively. "You should know that it isn't easy for wizards of our kind to gain wealth in the magical world."
He was trying to draw empathy from Ian.
"Not easy?" Ian replied, almost casually. "I found it quite easy. I've never been short on money since I stepped into the wizarding world. Did you know I got an entire street in Diagon Alley for free?"
"A pure-blood family practically forced it on me. I tried to refuse, but they wouldn't take no for an answer."
As he said this, Ian jingled the ring of keys he always carried and dangled them in front of Riddle with a smirk.
"... "
The young Dark Lord felt completely numb.
He almost couldn't keep a straight face.
A knot of frustration welled up inside him. Both he and Ian were rising stars. Yet, why were the families who courted him never so generous?
"Oh, right. That weird thing I asked you to look after, where is it?" Now thoroughly at ease after his little brag, Ian suddenly remembered his spoils of war, the peculiar creature wrapped in shadow.
"Over there," Riddle said while pointing toward the corner of the room.
There it was.
The shadow creature had actually been stuffed into a glass jar. Though it thrashed about inside, pounding against the walls and screaming silently, not a sound escaped.
No doubt Riddle, tired of the noise, had placed a Silencing Charm on it.
"This damned thing... huh?" Ian picked up the jar from the corner. To his surprise, he could suddenly see what the life form inside the shadows looked like!
Within the swirling shroud of darkness was the form of a gray wolf's spectral soul.
Its fur was thick and coarse, dark ashen in color, and seemed to merge seamlessly with the shadows. Its eyes burned with eerie green flames, like twin embers flaring in the void.
When Ian leaned in closer,
The wolf bared its fangs, curling its lips back in a soundless snarl. Its mouth moved rapidly as it muttered silently, clawing at the glass as though roaring voicelessly in rage.
"What could've caused this?" Ian wondered, puzzled. Why had he been unable to see the creature's true form before, yet now it appeared to him so vividly? Only half a day had passed.
"Can you see what's inside?" Ian asked, turning back toward Riddle uncertainly. Riddle was still observing Malfoy's condition after dosing him with a potion.
"Of course. It's just a mass of shadow," Riddle replied. "I studied it earlier. It's somewhat similar to a Horcrux, but unlike a Horcrux, this is a complete soul."
"So only I can see it..."
Ian thoughtfully shifted his gaze back to the jar, his eyes once again fixed on the silent gray wolf within.
The form of the great gray wolf was now plain to see. Beneath its semi-transparent fur, strange runes shimmered, marks that did not belong to this era. Most unsettling of all were its pupils, which seemed to reflect shadowy images.
Images that Ian had once seen on Cassandra's forehead: the Claw of the Raven.
"Hiss!"
The name Soul Hall, which the wolf had mentioned before, flashed through Ian's mind. His heartbeat quickened violently. Realization struck, and without hesitation, he began to call upon the power he had only just acquired.
In an instant, Ian's body began to shift. His bones cracked softly as they reshaped themselves, and black feathers sprouted across his skin. His arms unfurled into vast wings. Within seconds, he had become a raven with feathers as dark as midnight and eyes that gleamed with a chilling light as eerie as a blood-red moon.
The moment his transformation was complete, he felt as he had expected.
The wolf inside the jar froze. Its pounding against the glass ceased. Its body went rigid as if caught in a stasis spell. Its eerie green eyes, once filled with malice and cunning, were now stripped bare and replaced with raw, paralyzing terror.
"%￥#@,￥#@§№☆!!!!"
It was not cursing.
The great gray wolf's hackles bristled as its jaws opened and closed frantically. However, the lip movements formed words that no human-trained wizard could decipher. Ian could only watch as the creature's legs buckled.
The Big Bad Wolf collapsed, trembling violently and pressing all four limbs in supplication against the bottom of the glass jar.
(End of Chapter.)