Returning to the real world from the collective unconscious sea, Aiden's pupils still flickered with spiritual radiance, casting faint prismatic reflections in the dim light.
As the pathway most closely connected to the mind, Visionary—from Sequence 9 to Sequence 5—continuously deepened one's ability to control and manipulate the mind itself.
After entering demigod status, Visionaries began connecting to the collective unconscious sea to a certain extent, touching the threads that bound all consciousness.
Sequence 3 utilised dreams to manipulate the collective unconscious sea to a certain degree, weaving illusions into reality.
After entering Sequence 2, the Visionary's abilities finally began transitioning from virtual to real, directly influencing and distorting reality through consciousness alone, while also possessing a complete mythical creature form that defied mortal comprehension.
Under Aiden's focused will, the entire Hogwarts castle began to decompose into fundamental particles.
The particles decomposed from Hogwarts were scrambled and randomly recombined into a giant tree reaching the heavens, its branches stretching impossibly into clouds.
Then the giant tree ignited in supernatural flames, and Hogwarts castle appeared again exactly as it had been, restored perfectly.
The staff and students inside the castle felt like they had just experienced a very long dream, in which they seemed to have become leaves on a great tree, swaying in cosmic winds.
Dumbledore burst into the Room of Requirement, glaring fiercely at Aiden, who lowered his head with obvious sheepishness.
What he did not know was that his mere five seconds of experimental operation immediately triggered warnings on Unspeakable Stones worldwide, setting off alarms in every major Ministry.
"Woo—"
On the eighth floor of the British Ministry of Magic—Department of Mysteries—a prolonged alarm wailed through the corridors.
"Bloody hell, is the Deep Realm attacking? Where is the reaction location?" the Director shouted, kicking open the door to the Brain Room and roaring at the members inside.
"At Hogwarts!" an Unspeakable said, rushing up to report breathlessly.
"Must be Grindelwald. Move out, move out immediately!"
The Director rushed to Hogwarts with a large group of Unspeakables, wands drawn and ready. But the peaceful and tranquil scene before him left him completely dumbfounded.
"Bloody hell, what is going on!"
Inside the Room of Requirement, sensing the Director's approaching magical signature, Aiden took Dumbledore and stepped out, flickering before the Director in a shimmer of displaced air.
"You are still alive. Wait, did Grindelwald not attack?" the Director asked. Seeing the two unharmed, his heart settled halfway.
"Perhaps I should explain. In short, I have become stronger and tested my abilities," Aiden said, giving a brief and deliberately vague introduction to what he had done.
"Bastard!" the Director said, narrowing his eyes and crossing his arms.
"Thank you for the compliment," Aiden said, bowing slightly with mock sincerity.
"Alright, Bob, send messages to other departments. False alarm."
The Director turned and called out to his subordinates.
However, this incident also made Aiden realise that the quality of his mind was now too massive, too dense with accumulated power. Once he used large amounts of magic in the real world, it was extremely easy to be identified as a Deep Realm King by monitoring enchantments.
Can I only reduce magic output? Aiden thought, stroking his chin thoughtfully.
"Is there anything you want to tell me?" Dumbledore asked, glancing at Aiden with penetrating blue eyes.
"Near-deity, or from a certain perspective, almost everything They can do, I can do now," Aiden said, pointing at the ground meaningfully.
"So, should I bow and address you as Your Majesty?" Dumbledore asked, his expression full of obvious amusement.
"What?"
Aiden was stunned. Dumbledore's teasing was beyond his expectations, completely unexpected.
But this fellow was indeed pure of heart—at least when learning of Aiden's godlike abilities, no greed or desire for power arose in his mind.
"I thought you would beg me to help you resurrect your sister or something," Aiden said.
Dumbledore paused, then raised his hand to scratch his beard thoughtfully.
"Forget it, spare me. After all, the person you resurrect would not be the same as they once were, would they?"
Dumbledore gazed at Aiden, gazing at this god among mortals with ancient understanding.
"I see," Aiden said, lowering his head and smiling with genuine respect.
"Then let us go. Let us go to the Hog's Head to see Credence."
Aiden reached out and grasped Dumbledore's hand firmly. The surrounding scenery faded like burning paper ash rising into the air, reality peeling away in layers.
Beneath this revealed the familiar walls of the Hog's Head Inn.
"How did you do that?" Dumbledore asked, somewhat curious about the mechanism.
"Mental teleportation. Combining magic with my abilities, I projected the transfer channel that originally occurred in the sea of consciousness into reality using magic as a bridge."
Aiden explained the principle, while Dumbledore's mind filled with questions about the implications.
"Hey, Aberforth, I have come to see you," Aiden said, running over and sitting on the bar, swinging his legs playfully, waiting to be fed.
"There is no alcohol," Aberforth said gruffly, wiping glasses and putting them back on the counter.
"Do not try to fool me. In the compartment of the second drawer, you have still got a bottle of good wine hidden," the Discerner said, directly perceiving his secret.
Though he used this godlike ability to find someone's hidden good wine—hardly the most dignified application.
"You can only have a little. By the way, what are you here for?" Aberforth asked, his expression cold towards Dumbledore.
"To cure your son," Aiden said, his words shocking.
"What? You found a way?"
"Not us. Me."
Aiden took small sips of the wine Aberforth handed him. From the type and taste, it seemed to be quality whisky. The overall flavour had a fruity aroma and was smooth and warming on the palate.
"Come on, hurry up. This is no time for drinking!" Aberforth said, grabbing Aiden and taking him upstairs with urgent strides.
"Closed today!" He pulled out his wand and drove all the customers out of the shop in a flurry of spells.
In the loft, Credence had fallen into a deep coma. Black particles occasionally appeared on his body like swarming insects.
The phoenix beside him burned brighter, seeming about to enter nirvana as well, its flames intensifying.
"He has been in this state since he came back. The phoenix has been helping him bear part of the Obscurus's corrupting magic, but the effect is growing weaker," Aberforth said, sitting by the bed. His eyes filled with self-blame, guilt, and pain.
"Let me try."
Aiden pushed him aside gently and placed his hand on Credence's chest.
As one who had gathered tens of thousands of wizards' understanding of the world, magic held no secrets from Aiden's enhanced perception.
Magic carrying the Discerner's will flowed into Credence's body like liquid light.
Silver threads spread from where he touched Credence, weaving through flesh and spirit. The black particles on his body threatened to erupt violently.
But the silver threads moved faster, weaving into an intricate net across Credence's body.
Then Aiden grabbed the threads, and the entire net was pulled out just like that, extracting the corruption.
Pulled out along with it was the Obscurus clinging to Credence's very soul.
Aiden's pupils flickered with otherworldly light, seeing clearly the connection between the Obscurus and Credence—threads of dark magic binding them together.
Reaching out, dragon scales covered his hand with metallic shimmer. Dragon claws easily severed the connection between the two with surgical precision.
The Obscurus, having lost Credence's magic supply, became dormant, while Credence's breathing eased, colour returning to his cheeks.
"Merlin's beard, you did it!" Aberforth exclaimed with tears in his eyes.
"Cough cough." Credence opened his eyes slightly, blinking weakly.
"Aurelius, my child," Aberforth said, embracing him protectively.
Aiden and Dumbledore quietly withdrew, giving time for this father and son to reunite.
"What should we do with this thing?" Aiden asked, raising his hand holding the net, where the Obscurus was still struggling weakly against its prison.
"Let me study it," Dumbledore said, holding one arm across his chest, the other hand supporting his chin as he pondered the research possibilities.