Ian sat in the room, which was so quiet it was almost eerie, staring blankly at Claire. Outside the window stretched a boundless black starry sky, as though the entire world had fallen asleep in ancient silence.
There was no ticking clock or whispering wind in the room. Only Claire's bubbling soup pot continued to slowly churn with slightly mysterious golden foam.
As if the core of some ancient ritual was still at work.
"You're saying..."
Ian finally spoke, his voice dry.
"The Dumbledore family came from a bowl of soup?" As he spoke, his brows were furrowed tightly enough to catch a fly, and his eyes held the complicated emotion of Are you kidding me?
After hearing Titaness Claire, Ian was completely dumbfounded.
He had considered many possible origins for the Dumbledore family, but he had never imagined that their origins could have anything to do with a bowl of soup.
This was far too absurd!
Daigo had not been stewed into soup, but the Dumbledore family had originated from a bowl of soup?
"I mean, the Phoenix's power came from my Phoenix, while the Dumbledore family's affinity with Phoenixes came from this pot of soup." The Titan looked like she was carrying out some historical mission entrusted to her.
She corrected Ian's statement with utter seriousness, leaving him opening his mouth without knowing how to respond for a moment. He could only cover his forehead in astonishment and ask again.
"Fine, even if that's the case, the Dumbledore family's bloodline power coming from this is still pretty speechless. You have way too many outrageous tricks."
It was Ian's heartfelt sigh.
However.
Faced with Ian's complaints, Titaness Claire merely chuckled softly. Steam from the bowl curled around her, making her pupils seem even deeper.
"Mostly because I had a