Wherever the Underworld's influence reached…
It was as if every great existence sensed that this moment was extraordinary.
And yet, Ian himself remained unaware.
Transformed into a raven, Ian soared freely above Helheim, reveling in the sensation of weaving through the clouds. The black feathers along his wings quivered slightly in the rushing wind, glinting with a metallic sheen. Air whistled between each plume, and with every beat of his wings, a new and wondrous experience surged through him.
This was a feeling no broomstick or invisibility cloak could ever compare to.
Humanity had always harbored a deep, unspoken longing for the sky. And now, Ian was living that dream. He could keenly sense every subtle shift in the air, and everything within his sight was magnified a hundredfold, every delicate texture and every slight movement etched vividly into his vision.
"Magical creatures are truly extraordinary!"
Ian beat his wings slowly, feeling the strange power coursing through his veins, replacing the hands of a boy with the wings of a divine bird.
The joy of soaring through the heavens left him breathless, as if his very identity as a human had been stripped away. And yet, inexplicably, the sensation carried with it an odd familiarity, one that baffled him.
It felt as though this was how things had always been meant to be. Perhaps that was why Ian had adapted so quickly to his current form. This unique Animagus transformation was incredibly powerful. To put it in words even someone from his homeland would understand: each flap of his wings carried a speed comparable to the Monkey King's legendary somersault cloud leap.
No, strictly speaking, each beat of his wings produced a result akin to Sun Wukong's fabled leap of 108,000 Km. Whether this was a coincidence or something more, he could not say.
"No wonder they call this the power of a divine bird!"
It wasn't just the thrill of speed that overwhelmed Ian. He could feel the sheer strength of his new body, a body so resilient that even a pure-blooded Western dragon might pale in comparison. To withstand such blistering velocity was no simple feat. And storms, lightning… it felt as though they bent to his will.
And that wasn't all.
Ian could even sense the countless unseen threads binding all things together. A mere thought was enough for him to pluck at those invisible connections that wove through the hidden layers of reality.
This revelation stunned him.
The sensation was intoxicating, this newfound power of thunder and storm was already overwhelming, but now, discovering these interwoven threads of existence felt like unlocking a door to a throne of authority.
These threads were like the very veins of destiny itself, intricate, tangled, stretching outward to connect every being and every thing in the world. Perhaps… not just this world, but worlds beyond.
"What are they?"
At first, Ian cautiously tried to touch those threads.
When his consciousness focused, seeking to sense the hidden links that existed behind all things in the world, a subtle yet vast power flowed through his heart. He discovered that as long as he gently plucked at those threads, the world seemed to shift according to his will.
Yes.
They spread through the air like a spider's web, some as fine as strands of hair, others as thick as vines. Each thread represented a destiny, a possibility.
Ian saw a hill in the distance. Though the scenery was beautiful, in the interwoven tones of black and white, it faintly emanated a heavy, lifeless aura. Out of curiosity, Ian decided to stir the thread connected to that hill. His spirit, like a slender fingertip, touched the thread with gentleness yet certainty.
In an instant, the wind and clouds shifted, like a sovereign proclaiming His decree.
Black cracks spread across the mountain's surface, as if the earth itself were groaning in agony. The trees upon the slope withered and decayed, the rocks crumbling under invisible pressure. In only moments, that once-majestic peak seemed to be mercilessly crushed beneath the wheels of time, rushing toward its end.
Trees toppled. Stones tumbled and Ian stared wide-eyed at the scene, his heart filled with awe and unease. He had never imagined that with just the lightest pluck, he could trigger such tremendous change, this was surely the original power belonging to the raven, an unbelievable ability to manipulate fate itself.
"No wonder Merlin said the raven was equal to the stature of a god."
At that very moment, Ian finally felt with absolute clarity the true weight of divinity, for his Animagus form was indeed that of a divine bird.
"My Animagus form… it must be something never seen before in history."
Ian did not know why the earlier anomalies had occurred, but he realized that perhaps misfortune had turned to blessing for him.
After all, even setting aside a form as overwhelmingly powerful as his, there were hardly any Animagus wizards throughout history who had managed to gain even an ordinary magical creature form.
"This feeling… it's truly marvelous."
Immersed in this peculiar sensory world for a long while, Ian finally recalled the great hall he had broken into, and remembered he was still inside a tomb.
Thus, Ian beat his wings once more, flying toward the direction of the hall. Yet, when his small yet nimble figure appeared again at the shattered opening of the great hall, what awaited him was not calm.
But instead, a relentless barrage of magical attacks rained down.
"Damn evil shadow raven! Not even sparing a child! He's just a child! And you would dare make him your vessel!" Merlin stood at the center of the great hall, his gaze sharp with vigilance and resolve. His hands waved through the air, sending streaks of blinding magical light shooting toward Ian like bolts of lightning.
Clearly, Merlin had mistaken Ian for being possessed by the corpse of the raven. He believed that the familiar Ian before him was now a puppet controlled by some malevolent soul.
"What the hell?"
Ian was caught completely off guard by the sudden attack. He felt a mixture of helplessness and amusement, Merlin actually thought he'd been possessed by the raven's corpse!
It was utterly ridiculous!
"Can we talk like normal people?!" Ian didn't dodge as his body absorbed the magic directly.
There was no other way.
This was sheer audacity.
After all, he was still in his Animagus form. His body, a powerful magical creature, seemed to possess natural magic immunity. One spell after another simply had no effect on him. No dodging was even necessary.
Every spell shattered instantly the moment it touched Ian.
"I'm Ian! Your debtor, not some unlucky soul possessed by a corpse!" He tried to explain to Merlin, though the tone of his voice in raven form sounded strange and unique.
"Heh."
Merlin's memory of that familiar timbre and speech pattern was sharp. He clearly didn't believe Ian's protestations and remained unmoved. In fact, his attacks only intensified.
For a moment, the great hall was ablaze with a dizzying variety of spells. Even without the added strength of his physical form, Merlin, with his legendary bloodline, still wielded power comparable to that of mortals.
But, even as a semi-divine legend, countless beams of magical energy struck Ian like a torrential storm, yet Merlin's spells were like paper against him. Though they shook the hall with their intensity, they could not harm the young wizard in the slightest.
"You've got to be kidding me!"
As the saying goes, even a clay figure has three parts fire; Ian was far from a clay figure. Facing Merlin's tireless attacks, he simply flapped his wings and lunged toward him.
His speed exceeded what the eye could follow.
(To Be Continued…)
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