"Hm? What fear?" Louis smacked his lips, puzzled. "That's not important. Anyway, how's my wand coming along?"
"Just finished the design. I'm filtering out the right kind of wood. As for the core, the Acromantula doesn't quite fit—needs to be replaced. You could head into the Forbidden Forest and send me some Thestral tail feathers," said Garrick Ollivander.
"Replace it? That's fine, maybe I'll find something even better," Louis replied casually.
What he actually meant was the Basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets. Louis hadn't yet decided how to deal with it, but reserving materials in advance was no problem.
Garrick Ollivander didn't think much of it. Quality materials weren't easy to come by. If not for the Ollivander family's wide network of friendships and reputation for neutrality, he wouldn't have access to so many rare components.
"Oh, and put the matter of the wand's wood aside for now. I've got a much better option in mind, but we'll have to wait for it to mature," Louis said.
"What kind of wood could possibly be worth waiting for?" Ollivander asked curiously. "I'd like to see it for myself."
"Nothing too dramatic. It's just… special," Louis replied. He was referring to the World Tree. Even if it was labeled as a "fast-grown" version, its tier was still legendary—certainly no worse than the famed Elder Wand's wood.
Garrick shook his head, not particularly concerned. He was about to say that he'd seen every type of wood imaginable when suddenly Louis cried out in alarm.
"Oh no!" Louis smacked his forehead.
"What's wrong?" Garrick's heart sank. For Louis to actually say "oh no"… could it be something catastrophic? Had he gone and killed Dumbledore by accident?
"I left the dragon alone and haven't checked on it since. Who knows how it's doing now?" Louis finally remembered he still owned a dragon. It had been months since he tossed it into his personal domain. Could it have starved to death?
Without wasting a second, Louis activated his Reality Marble. Petals whirled up and swallowed both him and Garrick, transporting them instantly into a boundless sea of flowers.
Garrick's eyes widened. He hadn't felt the disorientation of Apparition, yet the world had completely shifted around him. This place looked nothing like anywhere humans lived.
He carefully examined the vibrant blossoms and clear sky above. No, he had never heard of a paradise like this. He was about to ask Louis for an explanation—only to find Louis himself looking rather bewildered.
"Huh? Where did my giant World Tree go?" Louis scanned the horizon. There was no sign of the massive, ploughed-up earth where it once stood. All he saw was an endless flower field stretching without end.
"Wait… isn't that a rise over there?" Louis narrowed his eyes, spotting a large flower-covered mound in the distance. From the contours, it looked suspiciously like the roots of the World Tree.
"Bloody hell! The vitality's that strong? It actually sprouted straight from the roots?" Louis muttered in disbelief.
Just then, a huge black shadow burst out from behind the flowery hill, diving straight at him. The creature's body stretched nearly ten meters long, with a wingspan of twelve, swooping down with the force of a bomber plane.
"ROOOAARR!!! (Finally, you're here!!!)"
Norbert, eyes brimming with tears, charged at his savior with overwhelming emotion.
These past few months had been pure torment. That strange fellow kept training it without giving it food. Sure, Norbert had grown rapidly in just a few months, but it wasn't happy at all.
It was a dragon! A fire dragon! Born to soar the skies as a ruler, how could it be reduced to a gardener in some flower field?
And now—at long last—it sensed a familiar aura. Though it had changed, becoming more dignified and intimidating, it still carried that warmth which awakened its memories.
This was its master's aura! (At least, in Norbert's own mind.)
But before it could fling itself at Louis, he kicked it straight in the snout.
"What the hell is this thing? Get lost!"
With a sharp rebuke, Louis's foot—barely a size forty—stamped onto Norbert's forehead and sent it flying. The massive body crashed down, ploughing a furrow through the sea of flowers.
Garrick stared at Louis in disbelief. Watching him punt a fire dragon weighing several tons a dozen meters away was too much—he began to wonder if Louis was even human, or just some monster wearing human skin.
"Wasn't that a dragon? Didn't you say you'd left a dragon here? Could that be it?" Garrick asked.
"My dragon? Impossible, right? It's only been a few months, and it's grown this big? That's neither scientific nor magical…" Louis rubbed his temples, realizing he had been careless.
This was his Reality Marble—how could any outsider intrude here? And there was supposed to be a dragon inside.
When you eliminate all impossibilities, the one that remains, no matter how absurd, must be the truth.
"Could it really be Norbert?" Louis muttered, staring at the dragon curled up into a ball, clutching its tail and sobbing. "How did it get this big?"
"Honestly, I'm less concerned about the dragon and more curious about where we are," Garrick said, bending to pluck a flower. Its delicate fragrance filled his lungs, making him feel a surge of vitality. "I swear, I feel decades younger just standing here."
"Last time I turned you into a Dark Assassin, you did become decades younger. Any more and you'll revert to a baby," Louis said dryly.
"It's just a metaphor! A metaphor!" Garrick shot back. "You still haven't explained where this is."
"My world," Louis said. "The ideal land—Avalon."
"Avalon?" Garrick was stunned.
That name was famous even in the Muggle world, known as the legendary resting place of King Arthur. In the wizarding world, it was a sacred term as well—reputed to be a realm beyond even the mightiest magic, perhaps even the birthplace of magic itself.
"You can think of this as Avalon's projection," Louis explained. "Not the true Avalon, don't get nervous."
"Even a projection is astounding enough." Garrick let out a breath of relief.
If Louis truly had the ability to summon people into Avalon itself, then he could rule the wizarding world with ease. Countless truth-seeking wizards would flock to his banner for just a chance to step foot there.
That was said to be the birthplace of magic, a treasury of all knowledge, and the domain guarded by powerful fae.
Some even claimed that Nicolas Flamel's ability to craft the Philosopher's Stone came from entering Avalon and receiving immortality secrets from the fae themselves.
Legend or not, it was enough to drive anyone mad with desire.
"Could he really be of Merlin's bloodline? But if he is… why can't a Merlin heir use magic?" Garrick murmured in awe, mixed with doubt.
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