Talent! And Gifts!

Ian felt as though he were a balloon.

He was being filled with a vast amount of things that did not belong to him.

I'm not clean anymore!

A surging, oceanic wave of killing intent churned within Ian's small head. His reason was almost entirely suppressed, and the boundless malice felt like a flood in desperate need of an outlet.

Perhaps it was Mara guiding him.

Or perhaps it was biological instinct.

As soon as Mara's instructions echoed in his ears, Ian chanted the incantation without a moment's hesitation.

"Avada Kedavra!"

It was almost a roar.

Ian had never imagined he would cast the Killing Curse under such circumstances.

Following the resonance of the incantation, magic and killing intent converged within Ian, flowing toward his fingertips and pouring into that nameless wand. The green light illuminated almost the entire castle.

It shone like a falling star.

Dazzling.

Powerful.

It was just a pity that the place Ian's wand was pointed at contained no living creatures or souls; there was only a weathered, mottled, grey-blue wall.

Since this was a curse that only affected living beings, it naturally did not damage the texture of the wall. Even so, the green light spread across the surface like a spiderweb.

It flickered for a long time.

Only then did it gradually dissipate.

Once the killing intent injected by Mara was released, Ian's reason reclaimed the high ground. Beside him, the witch looked very satisfied with the result.

"It seems your dullness is limited to certain areas; at the very least, you possess a talent for magic that is superior to many." The witch did not stint on her praise.

"Good heavens!"

Ian stared at the green light fading from the wall, unable to imagine that this was a spell he had cast.

He was an eleven-year-old wizard.

He hadn't even stepped foot into Hogwarts to begin his studies yet.

How could he possibly have the right or the ability to cast such a sinful and terrifying curse?

The Killing Curse!

The head of the three Unforgivable Curses! A spell that made countless people turn pale at the mere mention of it!

Had he really learned it just like that? There were born kings and generals in this world, but could it be that there were truly born prisoners of Azkaban?

Ian certainly knew that the primary reason his Killing Curse had such power was the killing intent Mara had instilled in him; everyone knew the potency of this curse was inextricably linked to one's intent to kill.

However.

Even with that factor, it did not change the fact that he had indeed mastered the Killing Curse.

Name: Ian Prince
Profession: Bloodline Warlock
Magic: Level 4
Skills: [Lumos (Level 1): 76/100]
 [Levitation Charm (Level 1): 11/100]
 [Killing Curse (Level 1): 7/100]
...

The panel would not lie.

After just one casting under Mara's guidance and assistance, Ian had directly mastered a Level 1 Killing Curse and even gained seven points of proficiency!

What did Level 1 represent?

It meant that even if he no longer received help from his teacher, he could still cast the most basic version of the Killing Curse, and the various insights regarding this spell had become knowledge within his mind!

"Unforgivable Curses—Mara, you call this a 'simpler' piece of magic?" Ian was still immersed in horror and mental shutdown, feeling little joy at having learned a new spell.

"In my era, definitions like yours did not exist." The witch walked to the wall and gently stroked it, causing the residual green light and the slight cracks to vanish completely.

"When out in the world, a wizard who doesn't even know the Killing Curse is generally nothing more than a lamb waiting to be slaughtered." Her explanation was truly unexpected and difficult to refute.

In Ian's view, Mara was, at the very least, a witch from before the Middle Ages.

For a wizard of that era, learning a few Killing Curses before heading out seemed to have a certain... logic to it?

"Remember how this feels."

The witch turned her head to instruct Ian.

"This magic requires intense killing intent. Although you don't look like you'll grow up to be a good person, it isn't easy for a wizard of your age to possess such strong intent... I suggest you try hunting some animals; that will also help you accumulate the killing intent needed to cast the spell."

"Of course, it certainly doesn't compare to killing a person, nor to the malice one feels toward their own kind. If you could kill someone with your own hands, perhaps you would truly master this magic."

The witch clearly failed to grasp Ian's learning progress, and her patient guidance seemed to carry a hint of seduction.

As expected.

A witch who would teach her apprentice the Killing Curse right off the bat could hardly be a benevolent white witch... Ian's previous intuition about this teacher was likely correct.

"Fine, I'll moonlight as an animal butcher..." Ian, of course, would not adopt the witch's final, seemingly offhand suggestion; he wasn't some Voldemort who would stop at nothing for power.

Besides.

He had actually already learned the Killing Curse and didn't need to accumulate any killing intent to cross the threshold. However, Ian felt he shouldn't tell the witch this.

It wasn't about keeping a trump card.

Why bother with such complicated concerns in Limbo?

Except for Ian, he had never heard of anyone being able to communicate with the souls in Limbo. Even if any secrets were exposed here, it wouldn't have the slightest impact on Ian's life in the real world.

The only reason he didn't want to tell the witch this shocking fact was that her opinion of him was already bad enough, and he didn't want to reinforce her view that "you don't look like a good person."

After all, even with the witch's unique teaching methods, a wizard who could learn the Killing Curse on the first try could surely be considered gifted in the dark arts, right?

Hmm.

Perhaps even Voldemort would call him an expert if he saw this?

Looking at the seven full points of proficiency on his panel, Ian wished he could have such rapid, leap-and-bound progress in learning other magic.

"Teacher Mara, could you teach me another spell? One that's a little less dangerous..." Ian felt that the progress on the Killing Curse might just be a special anomaly.

"Greedy."

The witch responded in a cold tone.

However, the next moment, she suddenly chuckled.

"But, greed for knowledge is not a bad thing, nor is it detestable." Clearly, Ian's "thirst for knowledge" happened to be the kind the witch greatly appreciated.

Yet, faced with Ian's joyful gaze, the witch didn't begin teaching. Instead, she smiled brightly and reminded him in a teasing tone.

"Are you sure you still have enough time to learn a new spell?"

Perhaps this teacher possessed some means of discerning how much time Ian could remain in Limbo. Almost as soon as her voice faded, Ian began to feel his surroundings blur.

"Ah!?"

Ian's figure began to fade away.

Everything around him seemed to be drifting away... At the moment his soul was about to depart from this sanctuary, Ian saw, through a blur, the witch tear a piece from her gown.

Some text was inscribed upon it, which she then placed into Ian's hand.

"Consider it homework."

"My dear apprentice, don't let me down..."

The illusion vanished.

Reality returned.

When Ian opened his eyes and looked at the clock, the witch's expectant whisper seemed to still echo in his ears.

He sat up.

He raised his hand.

The fragment of the gown, which had crossed the boundary between life and death and carried ancient knowledge, now lay quietly in his palm, shimmering with a silvery luster under the moonlight.