Halloween Eve

When Lin Yuan finished this final analysis, he slowly let out a breath.

There was no ecstatic joy in his eyes at having found the truth. Instead, there was a trace of the compassion and wariness a cultivator felt toward someone who had gone astray.

"So that's how it is... Immortality in this world is nothing more than a delusion that amounts to drinking poison to quench one's thirst."

He understood.

The Magic Stone's greatest value to him did not lie in using it.

It lay in studying it, analyzing it, and comprehending the laws of "matter reconstruction" and "life replenishment" contained within it.

Then he would discard the dross of its desperate, self-destructive approach, absorb the essence of how its laws were applied, and ultimately integrate it all into one whole, blazing a magnificent path that truly belonged to him and led toward eternal immortality!

At the tail end of October, like a goshawk dyed golden-red by the autumn wind, circled silently above Hogwarts.

The sweet scent of pumpkins had begun to spread through every corner of the castle. The ghosts were more active than usual, and even Peeves's pranks carried a hint of festive cheer.

Halloween, the celebration that belonged to the magical world, was drawing closer by the day.

Yet all the noise and anticipation had nothing to do with that corner deep in the library.

This was a place where time stood still, an eternal temple of knowledge, and Lin Yuan's "dojo."

Spread open before him was an ancient book bound in the tough hide of some unknown reptile—Guardians, Traps, and Eternal Curses.

The pages depicted intricate and vicious magical arrays, and every line of text seeped with the chilling, sinister aura of Dark Magic.

Any ordinary student, even if they merely opened the book, would have their mind corroded by the malice within and suffer nightmares for a week.

But Lin Yuan's gaze was as calm as an ancient well.

His soul was efficiently dismantling, analyzing, and modeling these so-called "eternal curses."

"[Corpse Rebirth Charm]: A crude necromantic spell that forcibly activates the residual life information within a corpse to create mindless puppets. Its energy conversion rate is low, and it is highly vulnerable to purification spells. Evaluation: Third-rate."

"[Soul Shriek Trap]: Partially strips away a victim's Soul Fragment and seals it within a designated area. When a living creature intrudes, the Soul Fragment emits a high-frequency shriek, causing a mental impact. Hmm... This idea is somewhat interesting and could serve as an elementary reference for studying 'soul attacks.' But the method is too crude. The technique used to strip away the soul causes irreversible damage to the sample, affecting its value for subsequent research."

"[Cerberus Taming and Pacification Manual]: ...Its lineage can be traced to a low-level subspecies of the hellhound Cerberus. Habits: voracious, sleepy, highly responsive to music... especially classical harp instruments, which can quickly induce a state of deep sleep. Weaknesses: Its three minds cannot coordinate effectively and easily fall into internal conflict; its intelligence is low..."

"Found it."

Lin Yuan slowly closed the book and lightly tapped the cover with one fingertip.

The Dark Magic book, which had still been whispering soundlessly and trying to release its malice, instantly seemed to have been struck by lightning. It became as quiet as an ordinary Standard Book of Spells, Grade One.

Based on his own memories, he had theoretically deduced more than a hundred times every guardian obstacle Dumbledore might have set up using "traditional magic."

From low-level Binding Charms to high-level Transfiguration creature guardians, and then the use of Fantastic Beasts' biological habits... Every possibility had been built into a massive, readily accessible database within his mind.

He knew that the red stone containing the secrets of this world's laws of "immortality" and "creation" lay at the end of the Third Floor Corridor that had been designated off-limits.

And tonight, Halloween Eve, was the best time for "fieldwork."

Dinner at the castle was always full of ceremony.

Hundreds and thousands of pumpkin lanterns had replaced the usual candles on the ceiling. Each pumpkin had been carved into a different ghostly face, their eerie flames flickering within and casting the entire Great Hall in a strange, otherworldly light.

Harry and Ron were enthusiastically piling Pumpkin Pasties and treacle pudding onto their plates. Hermione, meanwhile, was anxiously reminding them not to eat too many sweets, lest it affect their digestion that night and their studies the next day.

Lin Yuan merely ate a few symbolic bites of roast chicken. His attention had long since left the delicious food.

His soul was like an invisible net covering the entire hall.

He could clearly sense that Professor Quirrell, wearing a purple turban at the High Table, was radiating a soul fluctuation composed of fear, cowardice, and another cold, brutal, resentful presence that did not belong to him. It was far more active than usual.

"The script is about to begin."

Sure enough, just as dessert was being served, Professor Quirrell, who had disappeared at some point, stumbled into the center of the Great Hall.

His already pale face had now lost every trace of color. His turban had slipped to one side, and his eyes were filled with genuine fear.

"Troll—! In... in the dungeons—!"

He screamed the words with all his strength, then very "professionally" rolled his eyes back and fainted rigidly on the spot.

The entire hall instantly fell into deathly silence.

The next second, screams, sobs, and the clatter of falling plates erupted like a boiling pot, completely igniting the panic.

"Silence!" Dumbledore's majestic voice was like an anchor pinning down the sea, instantly suppressing all the chaos.

He rose to his feet, and the purple fireworks from his wand drew everyone's gaze toward him.

"Prefects, immediately lead the students from your Houses back to your respective common rooms!"

The students began filing out under the Prefects' leadership, orderly despite the confusion.

Harry and Ron exchanged a frightened look amid the crowd. Then Harry suddenly remembered something, and his face changed drastically. "Hermione! She doesn't know about the Troll! She's still crying in the girls' bathroom!"

The two exchanged a glance, immediately broke away from the main group, and charged against the flow of people toward the dungeons.

Meanwhile, Lin Yuan's figure had already vanished like a wisp of smoke into the shadows leading upstairs, heading in the opposite direction from everyone else.

"Foolish."

As his Spiritual Sense registered Harry and Ron's anxious, reckless actions, Lin Yuan summed them up with two words.

"A perfect diversion orchestrated personally by the Dark Lord. Everyone's attention has been drawn to the Troll being used as a tool. And the real target is in the unguarded Third Floor Corridor, where the defenses are weakest."

Lin Yuan's footsteps made not the slightest sound.

He was like a ghost walking through the gap between reality and illusion, easily avoiding the panicked students and professors hurrying to respond.

Soon, he reached the legendary Third Floor Corridor, which had been designated off-limits.

At the end of the corridor stood an ordinary oak door with a lock that looked quite sturdy.

But in Lin Yuan's eyes, this lock and the simple Prohibition Charm attached to the door were utterly useless.