Inside this room that resembled a giant's castle.
Ian sat on the bed.
He held a cup of hot cocoa in his hands, taking small sips as he could not help glancing at Fawkes.
The phoenix was huddled beneath Dumbledore's robes, its feathers slightly puffed up as it warily stared at Claire—the witch who called herself a "Titan." She was currently seated at a table in the corner of the room, leisurely simmering a pot of soup. Its rich aroma filled the air and whetted the appetite.
But the problem was... the phoenix being stewed in that pot was a phoenix.
More precisely.
It was her own phoenix.
"Definitely a deranged phoenix."
Ian stared at the Cauldron, which bubbled away. The phoenix inside was soaking contentedly in its "hot spring," occasionally adjusting its posture so that the soup base could better seep through its feathers.
It was gradually beginning its nirvana process within the soup.
"..."
Dumbledore thoughtfully stroked his beard.
He offered no comment.
"So..." Ian slowly spoke, his voice still carrying a trace of disbelief. "Your phoenix can grow stronger by eating itself?"
"Yep." Claire did not look up. Holding a long-handled ladle, she gently stirred the soup base. "Every time it is reborn, it becomes a little stronger than before."
After a brief pause, she added, "Sometimes, when I think she is too talkative, I force her to stew herself for a while so she will be quiet."
Ian's eyes widened.
"Isn't that pet abuse?!"
He felt that childless cat ladies absolutely could not be allowed to see something like this.
"She does not think so." Claire pointed at the phoenix in the pot. "Look, she is enjoying herself right now."
As she spoke.
She stirred the Cauldron again.
Ian leaned closer and looked. Sure enough, he