Ill Intent! Slaughter!

The rising sun climbed into the sky.

As the morning light first broke the silence of dawn.

The skyline gradually took on a gentle hue, like nature's most delicate brushstroke. As the rosy clouds emerged, all things seemed to awaken from their slumber.

Ian was no exception.

Successfully read Latin. Language Mastery +1

Successfully read Indian. Language Mastery +1

Successfully read Chinese. Language Mastery +2

Morning reading was an indispensable daily task. No matter how many other things he had to do, Ian almost never forgot to improve his Language Mastery proficiency.

There were no shortcuts on the path to "Listening to the Voices of All Things," only the accumulated study of many different languages. Even what had once been his native tongue could bring Ian gains.

"Treacle tart and overnight tea—another day closer to diabetes." Ian had brewed an entire pot of tea last night, while Dumbledore had only drunk a small cup.

He ate breakfast with yesterday's tea. On the street outside the Small Wooden House, the wizards living here had already begun their day.

"That Tom who grows pumpkins—his house made that kind of sound again last night. What a shameless old man. I really don't know why any Witch would fall for him!"

"Maybe he's exceptionally gifted?"

"Did you hear? Two groups got into a fight at the Hog's Head Inn last night. One wizard ended up with a pig's tail stuck to his butt! The Aurors couldn't catch the culprit at all!"

"I saw it last night. Someone stole Jenny's underwear while it was hanging outside!"

The people in the village had endless gossip every day.

Ian only felt that they were full of baffling contradictions.

Those romantic escapades hidden in the dark seemed unable to escape the eyes of these old wizards, yet No One had noticed the commotion when he summoned the Group of Corpses that night.

Hmm.

Perhaps No One cared?

As usual, Ian took a lap around the village. When he heard no rumors about his arson, he let out a slight sigh of relief and returned to the Small Wooden House to dig out those potion books.

"It's time to return them."

Keeping one's word was one of Ian's few virtues. Using the leftover wooden boards from before, he pieced together a box and neatly arranged all the potion books inside.

"Let's go."

Using the head that had just held up a Phoenix Last night, Ian copied the way Indian Brother carried goods and balanced the wooden box on his head, holding both sides as he headed toward the bookstore.

There was no helping it.

His body had not fully grown yet, and the box really was too hard to carry in his arms.

Following the winding cobblestone street and passing the Quill Shop, which had lost the business of selling a quill because Ian was too diligent, Ian saw the quiet storefront of the secondhand bookstore.

He did not enter immediately. Instead, he ran to the street corner and waited for over half an hour. Just as Ian had observed over the past few days, the bookstore owner, Kraft, left punctually.

He wore a trench coat.

He wore a hat.

He was in a hurry.

Who knew where he went at the same time every day? Only after seeing Kraft Apparate away did Ian place the wooden box full of books back on his head and enter the bookstore.

The air was filled with the faint scent of ink and the distinctive smell of paper.

As well as dust.

The German Girl was still sitting quietly behind the counter, wholly immersed in the book in her hands. She seemed not to have noticed Ian's arrival.

"Miss Grindelwald, I've come to return the books, as promised."

As Ian walked.

The wooden floor creaked beneath his feet.

His voice pulled the girl back from the ocean of knowledge.

"This is somewhat unexpected."

Aurora Grindelwald's exquisite face was like fine porcelain, yet it could not rival the allure of her Heterochromatic Eyes. Colors that could steal one's soul seemed to shimmer within them.

"We're friends, and you actually thought I'd take the books and run away!"

Ian wore an expression of utter disbelief.

"These secondhand books can't compare to our brief but steadfast friendship."

He had always liked to say whatever suited the person before him. It was the thick skin he had honed as an orphan.

"..."

Aurora fell silent for a moment.

"I simply didn't expect you to finish copying these books before school started." She explained herself, but did not deny the friendship Ian had mentioned.

She was a young person who longed for friendship.

Ian had noticed that from their very first meeting. Although Mind Perception had been restrained under his control, that did not mean it had lost all its usefulness.

"See this hand?"

Ian set the wooden box on the counter.

He raised his hand.

The German Girl nodded and leaned closer to examine it carefully.

"Other than its slender fingers and prominent knuckles, there is nothing special about it."

After a moment.

Aurora gave her assessment.

"But it is indeed a hand operating at maximum efficiency. Seven years' worth of Potions Class textbooks are nothing compared to the miracles it once created."

Ian's thoughts seemed to return to the summer vacations of his previous life.

"Coming back from the dead is the true miracle."

Aurora shook her head, and a trace of sadness passed through her Heterochromatic Eyes.

"..."

Ian did not know how to respond.

"How did you find that book?" Aurora suddenly changed the subject.

Clearly.

She meant Secrets of the Darkest Art, the book she had given Ian.

"It's amazing. I really like your gift."

Ian Gave a Thumbs Up.

"Then where is my return gift?"

Aurora's expression was as cool and detached as ever, but a trace of anticipation surfaced in her eyes.

"..."

Ian had genuinely forgotten about that.

"Next time, for sure!"

He grinned awkwardly.

"Mm."

The girl was not disappointed. She merely nodded quietly.

"I should hurry and scatter these books among those piles before one of your family members suddenly comes back." Ian picked up the wooden box and began stuffing books into the messy stacks, which had barely changed at all.

It was not troublesome.

Very soon.

Just as Ian held the empty wooden box and prepared to return to the counter to say goodbye, while also telling Aurora that he would definitely prepare a thoughtful return gift for her when school started.

Tap, tap, tap~

The sound of footsteps on wooden boards Sounded.

Standing by the bookshelf on the left, Ian looked up.

He saw.

A man in black robes and a hood, his face covered in scars, walk in with a wand in hand. His sharp and vicious gaze swept across the entire bookstore.

He looked at Ian first, contempt appearing in his eyes.

Then.

His gaze settled on Aurora.

"The intelligence was right. You really are here."

The man raised his wand and pointed it at Aurora.

"Little brat of the Grindelwald Family, come out now and come with me. Your Grandfather owes me something, and I need to use you to get it back from him."

This man clearly had ill intent.

Hidden behind the bookshelf, Ian's heart pounded.

An enemy coming to their door?

He had actually happened to run into such a melodramatic situation?

"My Grandfather owes many people things, but those who dare collect debts from him... clearly aren't the sort who can show their faces in public." Aurora did not look afraid in the slightest.

She even dared to mock the man who had barged into the bookstore.

She made no movement and remained seated, her expression cool.

"You sharp-tongued little brat, do you really think I wouldn't dare act here? You're not inside Hogwarts Castle now!"

The wand-wielding man was somewhat enraged.

The tip of his wand glowed faintly.

"Hiss—"

Hidden behind the bookshelf, Ian somehow felt excitement, along with... an urge to jump into action. Still, reason kept that impulse firmly suppressed.

Should I help with a sneak attack?

One Avada should do what it's supposed to, even if it's only a level-one skill, right? But this kind of hero-saving-the-beauty scenario is so painfully cliché!

"I'm a witness. He might not let me go, and that man saw me." Ian weighed his options inwardly as his left hand instinctively reached for his wand.

If he had a choice.

He certainly would not want to get involved in someone else's grudges and affairs of the heart.

But.

If he missed this chance, while the man was overlooking him because of his age and focusing all his attention on Aurora, he obviously would not get another chance for a sneak attack later.

Rely on a wizard's mercy?

He might as well trust the wand in his own hand!

Just as Ian made his decision and prepared to act.

"Ah!!!!"

Without any warning.

Blue flames suddenly erupted from the man's body.

The adult wizard.

Did not have even a moment to react.

His entire body was swallowed by the blue flames. Along with his wand, which should have fetched a decent price if sold, he turned into gray dust scattered across the floor in the blink of an eye.

"Fiendfyre!"

Ian cried out in shock.

He looked toward the counter in disbelief. The girl had lowered the wand that seemed to have appeared from nowhere and watched the fading flames with calm eyes.

"Could you get me a broom? It's behind the bookshelf beside you." Although she had just killed someone with terrifying magic, Aurora's emotions remained incredibly steady.

It was hard to imagine.

That a child who had only just reached school age could cast such profound magic without a word!

"Wouldn't Scourgify work better?"

Ian froze for a moment.

"I haven't learned it yet."

Aurora's answer was concise.

Fine.

Another child with lopsided learning.

Ian understood that well.

"Uh, I'll look for the broom."

Ian was not truly calm about seeing a living person die before his eyes, but he was obviously not the kind of righteous person who would question why she had killed someone.

The wizard had clearly come with ill intent.

Being softhearted would not solve anything.

Besides.

Questioning a killer.

Did he still want to live?

"I didn't see anything, so don't think about silencing me!" Ian walked over to the filthy floor with the broom in hand, somewhat worried about his current situation.

Where was the hero-saving-the-beauty scene they had promised?

How had it turned into the hero being afraid of the beauty?

"I won't attack a friend, and besides..."

Aurora walked over to where Ian had been standing, picked up the wooden box he had dropped on the floor, and crouched beside him. She signaled with her eyes for Ian to sweep the ashes into the box.

"We are accomplices now."

Just like when they first met.

The German Girl seemed unusually fixated on this kind of relationship.

Three thousand words!