Chapter 237: Just a Little Bit of Resentment? I'll Suck It Up!
"I see, good. Keep looking."
Dylan smiled and nodded, accepting his answer.
Peeves stood his ground, not moving.
"What? Not in the mood to move?" Dylan looked at him.
Suddenly, an intense sense of pressure washed over him.
Peeves immediately put on a fawning smile and said, "Young Master, I can't possibly carry all this stuff by myself!"
"Oh, I almost forgot." Dylan waved a hand and dropped a basket in front of Peeves. "Take this. Not only can it hold things, but it can also help you find the location of gold and silver. Go now, and be quick. Don't make me wait too long."
"Yes, yes, yes, I'll go right now..."
After Peeves turned and floated into the storeroom, Dylan settled back onto the chair. He held the Ravenclaw Diadem in his hands, examining it closely.
His already slender fingers turned the diadem with an air of casual indifference. This was one of the legendary relics of the four founders. A deep-blue sapphire glowed with a tranquil, ethereal light in the candlelight. Along the edge, the silver inscription "Wit beyond measure is man's greatest treasure" gleamed.
As the diadem moved, it cast fragments of light and shadow across the back of his hand.
"A relic, and it has the ability to clarify my thoughts."
When Dylan's fingertips touched the cold metal, a faint magical tremor traveled up his palm. It seemed the diadem was not just a simple relic, but a magical artifact filled with power. Even with a simple touch, Dylan could feel a gentle magical presence spreading through his hand. His mind felt as if an invisible hand was stroking it, gently untangling his chaotic thoughts.
The trivial thoughts that had been swirling in his mind vanished like morning fog, replaced by an unprecedented sense of clarity. The diadem's surface glowed with a soft, silvery light, and magical streamers of light seemed to flow up his arm.
Dylan found that his mind had become even more active. Spells and theories that might normally require repeated contemplation now seemed to connect automatically into a complete network in his mind.
Ideas broke free like unbound birds, flying lightly and swiftly across the sky of his consciousness. Every thought was clear and sharp; he could even precisely track the motes of dust floating in the air.
"Is this artifact giving me a percentage-based attribute bonus? Why didn't all the mental and magical attribute points the system gave me before have the same effect as this?"
Under the nourishment of this magical power, Dylan's mental state reached an unprecedented level of saturation. His taut nerves were gently soothed, and all sense of fatigue vanished.
"The relics of the four founders have such wonderful uses."
He smacked his lips.
Shouldn't he get his hands on the Sword of Gryffindor as soon as possible?
"At the very least, before I graduate, shouldn't I inherit the legacies of all four houses?"
When he first started at Hogwarts, Dylan had considered whether or not to go to Ravenclaw to see what kind of legacy the house of wisdom possessed.
Now, he wasn't overly eager for the founders' legacies. However, the legacies of the four founders would undoubtedly bring him more new knowledge than the teachings of Professor Flitwick, Professor McGonagall, and others. After all, they were magical giants from a thousand years ago.
"Indeed, worthy of being the symbol of wisdom. Just a touch allows one to feel the marvelous power of knowledge and magic entwined. I wonder if the diadem is the key to unlocking the so-called legacy, or if the legacy is hidden somewhere else entirely."
In all these years, he had never heard of anyone inheriting the legacies of the four founders. Only one, Slytherin, created a pitiful Chamber of Secrets and raised a basilisk that could only eat little sewer rats. And Slytherin didn't create such a thing to pass on a legacy. Instead, it was to wait for a future person with a fated connection to complete what he couldn't.
It was actually quite funny. An event that one of the four founders couldn't accomplish, he expected a descendant from a thousand years later to succeed. To help this descendant, he even used Dark Magic to raise a basilisk. But what's the use of one basilisk? If he wanted to raise a monster, he should have added three or four zeroes to the number.
It was just a total waste.
But now, it was a good thing, as the basilisk became Dylan's benefit. Dylan still hadn't encountered another basilisk, so the one he had in his space was now being well cared for by him.
He would just take a bit of its blood, cut off a little of its flesh, and break off some scales and horns from time to time. Although it sounded cruel, it was actually a gentle process. Even so, Dylan still felt that it was much better than just blasting the basilisk into a million pieces and letting its corpse grow flowers.
He held the diadem in his hand, but he was not completely letting his guard down. His wand was always in his grip, ready to deal with any potential complications. After all, this diadem had been made into a Horcrux by Voldemort.
Who knew if the thing would suddenly cause trouble for him?
But since it had no power to replenish itself, unlike when Ginny provided the diary with a constant supply of life force, which allowed little Voldy to take advantage, the diadem was quietly staying in his hand for now, and probably couldn't stir up much trouble.
Swish
Dylan held the diadem up to the candlelight, watching the faint, dark purple shimmer at the joint of the gems flicker in the flame.
—This familiar color.
It was exactly like the one on the Tom Riddle's diary in his hand.
"I wonder if the diadem is the key to Ravenclaw's legacy. Did Voldemort already get all of the four founders' legacies before?"
Dylan raised an eyebrow, his wand flipping nimbly between his fingers.
"Protego!"
With the low incantation, a translucent, dome-shaped barrier suddenly expanded around the Ravenclaw Diadem. It glowed with a silvery light, completely suppressing the dark purple magical fluctuations on the diadem's surface.
"Expecto Patronum!"
"Yeeow!"
The silvery light burst from the tip of his wand, instantly illuminating the entire room. A Pixiu-like Poro solidified from the flames, emerging from the spiritual plane. Its fluffy fur gleamed with flowing starlight. Its round body lightly jumped up, then it opened its small mouth filled with sharp teeth, ready to bite the diadem.
Dylan immediately stopped it. "Wait! Just guard it."
The Poro instantly closed its mouth.
"Yeeow~"
Its tail swished back and forth like a shooting star, carving intricate golden lines on the surface of the spell-woven barrier. Each ray of light made the Shield Charm's barrier more solid.
Just then, the diadem suddenly began to shake violently.
Dylan looked at it sideways. He saw a blood-like liquid seeping from the silver inscription on the diadem's edge, along with a significant amount of black energy. They floated out in wisps, trying to corrode the protective barrier.
Dylan snorted softly.
"You're still conscious, after all."
The blood and black energy were both materialized magical entities. They looked like living things, twisting and rising from the surface of the Ravenclaw Diadem. In fact, these things were negative emotions—the resentment and despair of the innocent victims—that had been condensed when Voldemort made the Horcrux. If an ordinary person absorbed them, a person with a weak spirit could go completely mad! Even a person with a strong spirit would be affected by the erosion of these negative emotions.
But as for him...
Dylan looked down at the surging black energy and blood on the diadem's surface, a calm smile on his face.
"If that's all it is—"
Dylan waved his wand lightly, and the barrier containing the black energy instantly opened a gap. The black mist, wrapped in the wails of the wronged souls, immediately surged out.
However, before it could completely disperse, it was pulled by an invisible force. Like a flock of returning crows, it rushed toward Dylan's slightly flared nostrils.
With a gentle inhale, even the dark purple blood droplets seeping from the diadem's edge turned into fine streams. They snaked down the void and disappeared completely into his nasal cavity.
The Dementor's power flowed through his body. Dylan felt the malice, despair, and fear twisting and reforming in his chest, turning into strands of pure life force and magic that nourished his body. Dylan's body glowed with a faint blue light. Although the skin that had just been eroded by the black mist had not been affected, it became even smoother at a visible rate. Even his eyebrows took on a vibrant glow.
When the last wisp of black energy dissipated, Dylan nonchalantly spun the diadem. The silver inscription on the metal surface reflected his calm expression. It was as if the evil power he had just consumed was nothing more than a wisp of morning fog, completely insignificant.
At this moment, the diadem, having released a wave of death energy, felt as if it had been drained. Its already dim light grew even more faint. It seemed as if the diadem watched helplessly as its attack was not only easily blocked by Dylan, but that he even dared to absorb all the death energy it used to attack him. It was completely stunned!
"That's all you've got? Can you do more?"
Dylan tightened his grip on the diadem with a composed look. The Pixiu-Poro beside him raised its little neck and let out a "deafening" roar.
"Yeeow~!"
The corner of Dylan's mouth twitched, his calm expression cracking slightly. He shot a glance at the little creature. "Alright, alright, that roar is worse than no roar at all. It has no force."
"Yeeow..."
The Poro looked at Dylan, blinked its eyes mournfully, and its furry head drooped listlessly.
Seeing the Poro squatting in mid-air, its fluffy tail wrapped around the protective barrier like a chain, Dylan chuckled.
"Alright, alright, you can roar if you want. I think it actually has a bit of force to it."
"Yeeow?"
The Poro looked up, its eyes wide and then squinted, looking at Dylan sideways. Its little expression seemed to say, Are you for real?
But the little Pixiu immediately perked up. It stood up and started roaring "Yeeow, Yeeow" again.
Dylan ignored it and continued to look at the diadem in his hand. For ordinary people, the negative emotions he had just absorbed would be a potent poison. But for Dylan, who possessed the ability of a non-existent being, it was a great source of nourishment!
The resentment Dylan had just absorbed made him feel like his physical vitality had become much more abundant.
"As expected of a Horcrux made by Voldemort, and left in this dark and sunless place for so long. The resentment is truly sufficient—hmm, delicious!"
Dylan smacked his lips. He had only absorbed some of the happy emotions others emitted before, which gave him a sense of satisfaction. But this pure despair was even more attractive to him.
"It seems the Dementor's power might have many other uses..."
The death energy was absorbed by Dylan and turned into life force, nourishing his body. This life force, which could be called vitality, could not only help Dylan repair his body but also make him "rejuvenate." In a sense, Dylan had truly achieved immortality. Moreover, when faced with an attack like Sectumsempra, even without a counter-curse, he could use pure vitality to fill the damage caused by the attack.
That was one part of it. In addition, problems like malignant diseases, bodily injuries, and even minor issues like dark skin, hair loss, and acne could be continuously repaired, bringing his body to a perfect state.
Dylan gently tapped the diadem with his wand.
Perhaps sensing Dylan's contempt, the diadem trembled and squeezed out a tiny bit more black energy. There was no more blood.
Dylan pouted, a bit disgusted, but he still swallowed it whole.
Just then, Peeves came flying over with the basket Dylan had given him. Seeing Dylan absorbing the extremely malicious negative emotions, his eyes popped out of their sockets.
Wait a minute!
What just happened? Was this little human wizard using the power of a Dementor?!
Good heavens!
Not only could this little wizard make Dementors bow down to him, but he had also mastered the Dementor's power?
Was this guy even human?!
Peeves had thought Dylan was weird for a long time. He could freely control spirits and even Dementors were his little minions! Now he had even mastered a Dementor's ability!
If this guy was human, he'd eat his own hat!
He quickly held the basket full of junk in front of him with both hands and flew over eagerly. "Young Master, look at this. This is all the stuff this basket guided me to. When I got close to a place, it would flash, so I brought back all the things it flashed at. Do you think this stuff is valuable?"
When Dylan saw that Peeves had returned, he temporarily put down the useless diadem, which couldn't be squeezed for another drop of blood, and glanced at the contents of the basket. Although it was under the Undetectable Extension Charm, Dylan could still get a general idea of what was inside. Some old, junk-like things. Some colorful, dust-covered gems. And a few strange trinkets.
Dylan didn't really care what good things Peeves could bring back to him. He just swept a glance over it and nodded.
"You've brought everything back?"
(End of this chapter)
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