Slytherin felt as if he were falling apart.
He had originally thought it was just some wet-behind-the-ears youngster, merely possessing a bit of talent.
Something he could handle with ease.
But that was the Heaven Divine Realm! What did a six-winged angel represent?
At least a powerhouse on his level, possibly even stronger, yet that kid had slaughtered them so effortlessly?
Had Lawrence slipped all the angels some laxatives, leaving them unable to muster their strength?
In any case, Slytherin simply refused to believe this fact.
He had escaped to the outer realms against all odds, intending to reach a higher-level world, only to circle back to the starting point after all that wandering.
If he had known this world could advance, why had he gone through all that trouble?
Slytherin remained silent, and Peter beside him sulked quietly too.
He wasn't foolish enough to ask Slytherin when they would go cause trouble for Lawrence, merely sighing at his own misfortune.
He had sworn allegiance to three masters in total, and two of them had been utterly annihilated by Lawrence; the third had nearly been killed off as well.
Attaching himself to the strong was his nature, and he had considered betraying Slytherin to find a more powerful master.
But Peter quickly abandoned that idea.
A waste like him wouldn't be accepted by any divine realm; it was better to see this dark path through to the end.
As long as Slytherin didn't provoke Lawrence, he could continue to scrape by.
Instantly, Peter Pettigrew's gaze grew resolute.
He couldn't lose this powerful backer!
"Master, let me gather more intelligence for you," Peter said, stepping forward to show his loyalty.
"No need," Slytherin slowly shook his head. "Come with me to a place."
"Where?" Peter looked at him, puzzled.
"Avalon," Slytherin rose, hunched, and shuffled out. "After all, the British Isles are her territory. Seeing such a monster appear, I expect even she can't sit still anymore."
...
As it turned out, Slytherin guessed correctly—Morgan was indeed very panicked right now.
Although she never set foot outside, Morgan obtained information much faster than any other divine realm.
"This Lawrence... what secrets does he hold?"
Seated upon her throne, Morgan was surrounded by a sea of flowers. The flower fairies' care made each blossom exceptionally vibrant, exuding an enchanting, rich fragrance.
Yet compared to Morgan on the throne, they all paled in comparison.
At this moment, Morgan's brow was deeply furrowed, a thick unease in her heart.
During their first encounter, she had sensed Wayne's hostility toward her.
It wasn't the natural wariness of a first meeting, but a blatant, targeted animosity directed squarely at Morgan.
Although Wayne hid it well, a woman's intuition was sometimes unreasonable—without basis, purely instinctual.
Morgan couldn't understand; in the era she left Earth, Wayne's ancestors hadn't even been born yet.
Why did he hold a grudge against her?
Because she saved Slytherin?
No, that feeling existed even before she mentioned Slytherin.
Just as Morgan was racking her brains without finding an answer, a flower fairy flew in.
"Lady Morgan, Mr Slytherin is here to see you."
"Who?" Morgan's expression changed.
The lovely flower fairy looked puzzled. "Mr Slytherin."
"Not seeing him," Morgan said decisively. "Go tell him, neighbourly relations end here. From now on... never mind, let's just make a run for it."
Under the flower fairy's astonished gaze, Morgan directly used her authority to carry Avalon and fled.
Morgan was known as Britain's last princess, but in truth, she was the Fairy Queen, born of the magical lake of Avalon. This mystical realm was like her wand, something she could manipulate at will.
Morgan was certain that the woman beside Wayne, Grace, held deep hatred for Slytherin. She'd be mad to maintain contact with Slytherin - was she afraid Wayne wouldn't hate her enough?
...
Outside.
Slytherin and Peter stared dumbfounded as the vast, boundless lake before them rapidly shrank, eventually transforming into a dewdrop that shot into the distance.
"G-great one, what should we do now?" Peter stammered.
Slytherin's face turned pale, then flushed red like a monkey's bottom.
"What should we do? How the hell should I know?"
"Morgan! You cowardly rat!"
...
Far away in London, Wayne remained unaware that his recent actions had frightened Morgan into fleeing with Avalon overnight, leaving Slytherin isolated and helpless.
He was currently organising the harvest from the angel castle with Grace.
Hogwarts was full of admirers everywhere he went, surrounded by crowds. He decided not to return to school these past few days.
"Finally finished." Grace wiped sweat from her forehead. Neither had slept for days, constantly busy, yet even so, they had only managed to categorise and organise everything.
Aside from particularly important documents, they hadn't studied the rest in detail.
"Not a bad haul," Wayne commented.
Setting aside the records about ancient times and information about the angels' original world, only one-third of the magical content was useful to ordinary wizards.
Moreover, this content required careful study and revision to align with the current magical system.
But even this one-third was enough to rival Hogwarts' library, all of it high-quality.
Grace hesitated. She wanted to help Wayne organise these documents into a modern magical system, but her energy alone was truly limited, and she wasn't sure when she could complete it.
"Leave it for now." Wayne discerned her thoughts and spoke up. "Just find some simpler applications of light magic. The difficult ones are beyond them anyway."
Speaking until the end, Wayne couldn't help sighing.
The students' overall quality was still too poor. If everyone had A-grade talent, or even some S-grade, these ancient magics would be much more useful.
Unlike now, possessing a treasure mountain but lacking the qualification to excavate it.
Grace also fell silent.
Their gazes simultaneously turned towards the reincarnation pool outside the castle.
The God of Light, or rather God, similar to legends of other pantheons, all originated from the same magically advanced civilisation.
In that world, the God of Light, Odin, Zeus and other deities were all genuine True Gods.
But a war of the gods destroyed everything, the world shattered, deities fell, and only some minor figures from the remote edges of the world managed to escape.
During the long years of drifting, the Legend beings capable of exploring the void also left the small world. As a result, when drawn to Earth, the strongest within the divine realms were only at the pseudo-Legend level.
Yet the treasures and legacies left behind were numerous.
Such as the confiscated Rebirth Pool.
The pool water within is condensed magical essence formed from the power of faith. Devout believers transformed through the Rebirth Pool become angels, not only gaining endless lifespans but also undergoing a metamorphosis in strength and talent.
However, everything comes at a cost. Angels reborn in this way can never break through to become True Gods. Moreover, after undergoing baptism, they become absolutely loyal to the God of Light, never betraying him and never disobeying the commands of higher-ranking angels.
Even if ordered to die, they would earnestly inquire about the preferred method of death and then strictly carry it out.
They were practically no different from puppets.
"I'll see if I can modify the Rebirth Pool," Wayne rubbed his chin. "It's fine if the effects are weaker, as long as it can elevate one's innate talent by a step."
He had no interest in ascending to godhood through faith, nor did he need fanatical believers. What he needed were capable subordinates who could get things done.
Besides, the steps to gather faith power in the Rebirth Pool were too troublesome. If Wayne wanted to use it, he would first have to establish a religion.
Gracie nodded, "Alright then, you take the Rebirth Pool away. I'll focus on studying the materials from the books."
"Mm, don't overwork yourself." Wayne gently kissed her forehead, then smiled. "Take your time with your efforts. I'm off to catch some fish first."
...
Ten days had passed since the destruction of the Heaven Divine Realm. The British Ministry of Magic had gathered a large number of wizards who had travelled across the oceans from other countries.
They had come with only one purpose: to seek protection.
With the wizarding world exposed, many Ministries of Magic could no longer ensure their countries' safety amidst various surrounding dangers.
Some faced increasing pressure from their governments; others were overwhelmed by ancient wizards; and a few Ministries of Magic had already fallen, now ruled by these ancient wizards.
There were also countries bordering the divine realms, living in constant unease. After fully recognising the power Lawrence possessed, they urgently sought his protection.
Yet none of these people managed to see Wayne; he hadn't returned to Hogwarts at all.
Left with no choice, they could only wait anxiously in London.
...
On this day, Wayne quietly returned to Hogwarts. After the students' classes ended, he secretly had Gardevoir bring Hermione back to the suitcase world.
"You're back!" Hermione was overjoyed to see the young man who had been absent for half a month.
Wayne smiled and hugged her, "I could have returned much earlier, but I unexpectedly received some news and went to find a gift for you."
"I don't need any gifts," Hermione nuzzled against his chest. "Having you spend more time with me is better than anything."
"That's a separate matter," Wayne shook his head. "I won't be leaving Hogwarts for some time now, so I'll have plenty of free time to be with you. Let's go see the gift first."
Taking Hermione's small hand, Wayne led her to the lakeside.
Only then did Hermione notice that the lake beside the small wooden cabin had expanded considerably, now almost the size of the Black Lake.
Seeing her master, Tuantuan, who had been sunbathing by the lakeside, came trotting over, only to be mercilessly nudged aside by Wayne.
"Don't disturb my business, Tuantuan."
"Oww!"
The giant panda angrily curled into a ball, huffily turning her head away from her owner.
"What gift were you talking about?" Hermione asked, looking at the calm lake surface with some curiosity.
Wayne didn't answer, instead asking: "Do you remember our bet?"
"Bet?" Hermione blinked, "Which one are you talking about?"
She had made bets with Wayne so many times that even with her excellent memory, she couldn't keep track. Although she lost every time, she never tired of it.
This had become a little amusement between the two of them.
It was just that the punishments after each failure always made Hermione blush.
"First year, by the Black Lake, about the Siren."
With Wayne's reminder, Hermione finally remembered, saying with disbelief: "...You found one?"
"Of course." Wayne smiled slightly and called towards the lake: "Nana, come out."
Ripples appeared on the calm lake water as a fish-like figure approached from afar, emerging with a head.
It was a beautiful young woman with dark green wavy hair, two shells covering her sensitive areas. She leapt lightly, half her body emerging from the water, her lower body being a fish tail that reflected rainbow colours.
The Siren girl greeted them somewhat timidly, "Hello, Miss Granger, I'm Nana Seasinger."