You can read ahead up to 110 chapters on my Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/darkshadow6395
Yet the threads faltered.
Despite Ian's best efforts, his magic was insufficient. The strands of silver energy flickered and failed, unraveling and reforming repeatedly, unable to complete their purpose.
"It must be my craftsmanship. The ring isn't strong enough." Ian's face flushed with frustration. Even as the spell sputtered, he stubbornly held onto the belief that the failure was due to his alchemical shortcomings rather than a lack of magical power.
That was the pride of a wizard, the refusal to accept defeat.
"To summon your teacher as your Patronus, you must first become a legend yourself." Morgan chuckled, removing the ''Patronus Ring'' and tossing it back to Ian, her eyes gleaming with amusement and challenge.
The little wizard quickly caught the precious item he had worked so hard to create.
"What about it?" Ian glanced at the Dragon, which was now sprawled on its back, looking as though its head might topple off at any moment. Even Nearly Headless Nick would likely declare that this dragon's predicament was quite something.
"That, too, requires your magic to reach the absolute limits of wizardry." The legendary witch's words struck Ian like a thunderbolt, leaving him with a face full of dismay, as though he had aged eighteen years in an instant.
"Honestly, a Dragon Patronus isn't all that remarkable. Even a genuine pureblooded one would probably be no more than average. Size doesn't always equate to strength." Ian's tone suggested he was trying to convince himself of this fact, although the glint of disappointment in his eyes remained undeniable.
"You mentioned seeing the bones of this Dragon, didn't you?" Suddenly, Morgan's voice cut through the air.
"Yes, beneath our school. It's nothing more than a skeletal remnant now," Ian answered quickly, sensing that his teacher was about to unveil yet another of her invaluable lessons.
Morgan's elegant fingers tugged once more at the fabric of her dress, effortlessly tearing away another small strip. The material shimmered faintly, as though saturated with ancient magic.
"You've already learned the ''Soul Snare'' from your senior sister, but I've told you before that was merely a limited application. The magic she pursued was a fragment of something far greater, intended to explore the mysteries of the soul itself."
She handed Ian the strip of fabric, her expression unreadable.
"The advanced form of that knowledge is what I call ''Spirit Binding and Soul Dispatching''. Study this carefully, and if you manage to combine it with your ever-so-proud ''Corpse Control Curse,'', the results might just surpass even your wildest hopes. A mere Patronus dragon will pale in comparison."
Morgan's words ignited a spark in Ian's heart.
"Thank you! My dearest teacher! You truly are the greatest witch in existence!"
Only moments earlier, Ian had been dismissing the significance of size, but now his eyes gleamed with uncontained excitement. His enthusiasm seemed to shimmer like a Lumos charm.
"Size doesn't equate to strength because size itself 'is' strength!"
Grinning from ear to ear, Ian clutched the precious fabric as if it were a priceless treasure. The swiftness with which he shifted from dejection to delight could rival even Morgan's mercurial moods.
...
The sky above the small town bore little resemblance to that over the castle.
Sunlight cascaded through the morning mist, falling like golden threads upon the aged cobblestone streets. The tranquil settlement basked in the gentle radiance, wrapped in the perpetual embrace of the Twilight Zone.
Beyond the town, majestic mountains loomed, their peaks glowing beneath the soft light. The air carried the mingled scents of damp earth and delicate wildflowers, a fragrance both refreshing and serene.
In this idyllic setting, vibrant blooms swayed gently, their colors painting the town with life. Wisps of smoke curled from the chimneys, signifying the quiet stirrings of morning.
Before one humble home, a girl practiced her swordsmanship with relentless dedication. Her every movement was graceful and precise, the fluid arc of her blade cutting cleanly through the crisp air. A boy stood nearby, watching intently, his hands firmly planted on his hips.
"Pandero, we defeated that wicked Dragon. Surely we deserve a rest, two or three days, at least?"
The girl's long hair fluttered with each swing of her sword. Though her complaint carried a playful tone, her movements never faltered. The ease with which she wielded the blade spoke of countless hours of training, every stroke practiced to perfection.
In the Twilight Zone, time ebbed and flowed unpredictably. No one could say how many days had passed since the girl, once a complete novice, had grown into the skilled swordswoman she was now.
"Ariana, swordsmanship is a reflection of effort. The more you pour into it, the more you'll gain," Pandero responded, his sharp gaze never leaving her.
"You promised that defeating the dragon would earn us a princess and treasure, but all we found in its lair was... well, not even a single rotten apple." Ariana's tone was half-amused, half-exasperated.
Despite her words, she did not cease her practice. The rhythmic hum of her blade continued, steady and resolute, as Pandero watched over her with an unyielding sense of purpose.
"Uh, I remember stories like this usually had a princess and a pile of gold." The boy scratched his nose, looking slightly sheepish. However, the embarrassment didn't linger long. A mischievous grin quickly spread across his face. "But don't you fancy the idea of taking down something even more powerful than a dragon?"
"Are you suggesting I should take 'you' down?" The girl blinked, her tone carrying a trace of amusement.
"…"
The boy fell silent, casting a wary glance at the gleaming sword resting by her side. Then his eyes shifted towards the distant castle, its silhouette dark and looming against the sky.
"Right. Today's the day!"
With sudden resolve, the boy stepped forward, facing the girl with a dramatic air.
"Could you, er, kneel? Just one knee?"
He asked with a visible air of nervousness, leaving the girl thoroughly perplexed.
"What are you playing at now?"
Despite her confusion, the ever-direct Ariana set her water cup aside and complied, lowering herself onto one knee before Pandero.
"Though I've no magic to call my own, there are other things I 'can' do." Pandero placed his hand on Ariana's forehead, his voice lowering to a solemn whisper.
"I bestow upon you my blessing, Ariana. I grant you the right to wield my blade and shatter any obstacle that stands in your way."
He paused, the weight of the moment thick in the air. For a brief instant, it seemed as if the boy himself was considering the meaning of his own words.
Finally, as if deciding something once and for all, Pandero straightened his shoulders.
"Breaker of the Law, Ariana," he declared grandly, a gleam of satisfaction in his eyes. "Rather impressive, isn't it? I think it suits you."
There was no blinding light, no roar of magical energy. The sky remained calm, and the breeze continued its soft whispers. Yet, as his hand lifted from Ariana's forehead, a faint mark shimmered before vanishing without a trace.
Much like the gift Ariana had once given to Ian, she too had now received a gift from a friend.
'(End of this chapter)'