The stench of earth mixed with the acrid smell of scorched metal filled the air. Ian stood on the suspended street of the Sky City, surrounded by collapsed stone pillars and the ruins of buildings he himself had destroyed.
To be fair…
Although this city had not been welcoming to him, Ian couldn't deny how incredible it looked. Lush plants and fruit trees grew abundantly throughout the place, far surpassing the greenery of most cities Ian had ever seen.
The layout, too, was filled with artistic design… a style that carried the beauty and harmony one might expect from the dwellings of gods in myth.
Of course…
After the damage Ian had caused in several areas, the city bore a kind of tragic, broken beauty. Still, with all its people gone, it now felt bleak and desolate.
Especially after the phenomenon caused by Ian's transformation into a Raven, the atmosphere had become even heavier.
The sky remained shrouded in rolling black mist, as if stained by some ancient power. In the distance, faint screams of wizards and the wailing of fierce winds could still be heard.
"Hee-hee-hee~"
The baby in the trembling woman's arms was laughing, completely unaware of the terror gripping her mother. Tiny points of sunlight shimmered on the infant's outstretched hand, slowly gathering into a faint glow.
The aura…
And the form of that energy…
Both felt strangely familiar to Ian. And because of that, he froze, recognition dawning in his mind.
"She's the daughter of the Sun God?" Ian murmured, his throat tightening. He could feel the unseen hand of fate pulling him toward the people he was destined to meet.
"The Goddess… in her infancy?"
Uncertainty flickered in Ian's eyes as he examined the child carefully. A faint crescent-shaped mark of power shimmered on the baby's forehead and Ian immediately recognized it. It was the same divine sigil symbolizing the Goddess.
He had seen this mark not long ago, on the priestess who served that goddess. Clearly, for gods, these innate marks of power might well be their most unique identifiers.
"So… what kind of arrangement is this supposed to be?" Ian muttered to himself.
The baby's delicate face was reflected in his pupils.
And within the infant girl's bright eyes glimmered a sense of spirit he found strangely familiar, like a foreshadowing of the day she would grow into that reckless, battle-hungry deity who seemed to have no brain and fought heaven and earth alike.
Honestly…
That obliviousness to danger might have been her "defect" since birth. Even as her mother trembled in fear, the child Goddess kept laughing cheerfully at Ian.
"When you turn into a skeleton, let's see if you can still laugh… Love gives birth to flesh and blood… should I take her mother back with me? Maybe then she'll grow up surrounded by maternal love?"
Of course, that was just one of Ian's sudden whims. He didn't truly believe it would work.
He slowly stepped closer, causing the woman to immediately backed away.
A low, warning growl escaped her throat. Her fingers clutched the baby so tightly that Ian could tell… if he took even one more step, she'd fight him with everything she had.
"I won't hurt you," Ian said softly, trying to calm her.
But it was clear the woman didn't understand his words. Her terror only deepened, her eyes wide, lips trembling, muttering a few harsh, guttural syllables. She pressed the baby even tighter against her chest, her withered fingers sinking into the infant's swaddling.
Clearly…
The language barrier… made communication impossible. And because of it, the woman believed Ian was trying to take her child. Even in her overwhelming fear, she stood her ground, ready to face him head-on.
Setting aside those beings without humanity or maternal love, and speaking only of men and women capable of affection, fatherly love is great, but a mother's love is the most selfless and courageous force in the world. Countless true stories have shown that when a mother faces danger, even when her heart is filled with fear, she can unleash astonishing courage to protect her child.
Most of the time, life works the same way.
Animals are no different. Mothers are not born brave, they too fear the dark, fear pain, fear the unknown dangers that lurk beyond. But when a mother sees her child in peril, fear ceases to be an obstacle, it transforms into another form of awareness. Her heartbeat quickens… not from retreat, but from the instinct to fight.
Her trembling hands are not signs of weakness, but of gathering strength.
At this moment…
The black-robed woman before Ian was in that very state. A symbol of power glowed faintly on her forehead, as though she were ready to risk everything, even if it was futile, to fight Ian to the death.
"Uh…"
Honestly…
Seeing this scene made Ian a little uneasy.
Of course…
It wasn't because her magic was anywhere near his own. Even though he could transform into his Raven form and become immune to magic, he still held a certain respect… perhaps even reverence for the deeper themes of this world.
After all, Harry Potter itself was, at its core, a story about a mother's love. It was through action that a mother proved love was not only gentle care, but also the unhesitating courage to stand against danger. No power could compare to maternal love. When it erupts, it creates miracles born of love, and that is the most wondrous magic in the Harry Potter world.
Voldemort fell to that very power.
And right now…
Wasn't this scene like a "misunderstood" reenactment of that same story? Though Ian knew he wasn't evil, he absolutely didn't want to end up cursed by "the power of love."
'Tom's already gone. Don't tell me I'm going to be the next Voldemort?'
'Don't be ridiculous!'
Feeling a strange heaviness in his chest, Ian sighed. "She and I are friends… well… in the future," He murmured, his voice slow, soft, and cautious… perhaps even tinged with nervousness.
He truly thought he was being friendly enough, doing his best to make her feel his goodwill. But all he received in return was the woman's chattering teeth, clicking from fear.
Slap~
Ian couldn't help but smack his own forehead. 'Who was it that said "emotion transcends language"? Because right now, it sure didn't seem like any emotion was getting through!'
"I'm really not some monster, alright? I'm the victim here… I was the one attacked by you people!" he muttered, genuine frustration bubbling inside him.
And yes, he really did feel wronged.
But his words were meaningless. Ian tried to initiate a telepathic link, but it failed, perhaps because his spirit wasn't resonating on the same frequency as these ancient-era wizards.
"Bara-bara, bara-bara."
The woman looked up at Ian, clutching her child even tighter, as if her own body could become a shield. In her clouded eyes, the reflection of this strange intruder trembled.
She let out a rapid string of sounds, her tone quivering on the edge of tears.
"I can't understand you!" Ian groaned. "Let me try a little magic, just a simple language link! Or a mind-connection spell so we can actually communicate!"
He raised his wand…
But that simple gesture only deepened the witch's fear. Her eyes filled with panic and vigilance. She shielded her child with even greater force, her entire body tightening like a drawn bow, ready to block any threat. Her lips trembled as she uttered a desperate, muffled plea for him to spare them.
"Language! I just need language!" Ian protested, gesturing with his hands in exasperation.
Unfortunately, whether his movements were too abstract, or her understanding too limited, she simply didn't comprehend what he meant.
The woman stared fixedly at him. Then, suddenly… as if she had made up her mind, she slowly lowered her head, shielding the baby against her chest, and then raised her face to expose her neck.
"This is… is she offering her own life in exchange for her daughter's?"
Ian's heart trembled.
"I swear, I'm not some monster or serial killer. You should look for Dumbledore, when he was young, he looked more like an ogre than I do…" He muttered helplessly, shaking his head and sighing, half in exasperation, half to steady his emotions.
Ian knew he had to clear up the misunderstanding quickly. He slowly raised his wand.
The witch clearly hadn't understood his earlier rambling. Her eyes were still filled with grim resolve, as though she had already decided to trade her life for her child's safety.
And so—
She suddenly knelt before Ian.
"..."
Ian was speechless. The raw force of this motherly love moved him deeply, but it also made him realize that mere gestures and tone would never dissolve this misunderstanding.
He had no choice but to act decisively.
"Legilimency!"
The tip of Ian's wand glowed with a faint silver light. Even though he was vastly superior, when casting a spell on another being of similar level, he still needed the wand's assistance. His magic flowed like a stream, seeping into the woman's temple.
However…
The moment his magic touched her mind, a powerful sense of rejection struck him. It was only then that Ian fully understood why his earlier attempts at telepathic contact had failed. His brows furrowed tightly… these ancient humans had brain structures utterly unlike those of modern wizards, as if they possessed some kind of innate mental barrier.
It couldn't be easily breached.
Even though Legilimency was working, his magic struck an invisible wall just beneath the surface of consciousness. The minds of these ancient wizards seemed to be protected by a mysterious power.
Was it… magic itself?
Ian could faintly perceive strange runes… glimmering symbols forming psychic barriers, like iron cages that sealed the woman's memories behind an unbreakable wall.
"As I thought… wizards who would one day become gods are fundamentally different from us."
Ian realized that these ancient humans confirmed now to be the forebears of future deities were truly exceptional.
Even their internal structures, the way their magic power flowed and existed within them, were utterly foreign to his understanding. Even their brains had built-in defenses—
Legilimency-proof.
"Well… good thing that's not my only method."
Ian took a deep breath. Magic surged through him, and the glow at the tip of his wand shifted from blue to black, turning into a deep, shadowy mist.
"Imperio… Soul Seizure!"
This time…
His magic struck directly at the soul. The woman's pupils contracted sharply, her body trembling violently, though she didn't resist. Ian's consciousness plunged into the depths of her memories.
Countless images flooded his mind like a rushing tide. The witch's recollections unfolded before him… an ancient forest where a circle of wizards sat around a bonfire, sharing tales of their hunts.
Across vast plains, they battled beasts and felt the pulse of the earth beneath their feet. There were scenes of harmony with nature—of voices and energies resonating with the world itself, as though creation bent to their will.
It was as if…
This entire tribe…
Every single one of them was a wizard.
There were no squibs and no ordinary humans.
The scenes were awe-inspiring, but Ian didn't linger. He extracted only what he needed most, the language of these ancient wizards.
As for their magic, he did not pry. He knew well that everyone had their own secret.
And he was not the kind of man who violated another's secrets without cause.
Ian raised his hands helplessly. "I swear, I'm not the new Dark Lord."
The last thing he wanted was for the great cosmic will to somehow choose him as Voldemort's replacement, dumping Voldemort's entire tragic fate onto his head.
That would be… a nightmare.
So, yes… making a timely exit was absolutely necessary.
But during that process, he also discovered something extraordinary: the magic of these wizards wasn't learned or trained like in modern times.
The ancient wizards hunted across the wild plains. Flames danced in some of their palms; wind gathered beneath others' feet; some could even speak to beasts.
They stood bare-chested amidst thunder and storm, resonating with the heavens and earth. Every child was born with a magical mark, as if these wizards were born with their own unique magic… one that only they could wield.
"Innate divine power?" Ian finally found the right phrase to describe it.
How should he put it…
This kind of magic had both advantages and disadvantages. The benefit was that everyone was born capable of using magic. The downside, however, was exactly that… it meant their magic had limits.
There was no infinite potential.
Their innate powers granted them strength unlike any others, yet also set boundaries that could never be crossed. Unlike later generations who could break limits through study and exploration, these ancients could only grow within the narrow confines of their natural talents.
And once that natural growth reached its peak. That was the birth of the Gods.
"So that's it… This is why they sought the path to godhood. And also why that path had an end." Ian finally understood why this ancient race of wizards had walked the road to becoming gods.
While mulling over this revelation, he swiftly withdrew from the woman's memories, refraining from prying further into her private thoughts. To be honest, apart from that bit of magical insight, Ian had only extracted her language. When he opened his eyes again, the woman's face was pale, but the terror in her gaze had lessened slightly,
as if she had sensed that Ian meant her no harm.
Ian tried speaking in the ancient tongue he had just learned—
But then…
BOOM!!!
The ground beneath them quaked violently. The entire sky city shuddered as though torn apart by an invisible hand. Buildings swayed and cracked; clouds of dust filled the air.
Ian's head snapped up.
In the heart of the city, several enormous figures were clawing their way out from beneath the earth. Towering flesh-and-blood giants!
Their bodies loomed like mountains, skin a sickly gray-white, muscles twisted and fissured, every inch of their flesh carved with ancient runes.
The runes glowed with a furious brilliance, pulsing with unimaginable power.
"Clang… clang… clang…"
Each giant's step shook the world, each movement ringing with the sound of metal striking metal. But they weren't wearing armor… those metallic sounds came from the black chains still coiled around their bodies, half-broken, as though they had just been unshackled after ages of imprisonment.
The giants roared to the sky, their deafening cries sending waves of force that shattered the nearby ruins. The woman screamed, clutching her baby tightly, collapsing to the ground with despair in her eyes.
"They've… released the Titans?!"
At that moment… Ian understood her words perfectly.
(End of Chapter)
You can read ahead up to 110 chapters on my Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/darkshadow6395
Hey Guys I have picked up 2 new Fanfiction
New Novels- 1. One Piece- Maxed Out Conqueror's Haki!
2. One Piece- Master Of Devil Fruits