Oh, I Didn't Need to Impersonate

What does it take to create a miracle?

Ian answered this question with a pen and dozens of hours of labor.

The textbooks for all seven years of Potions were staggering in volume, but relying on the proficiency he hadn't yet forgotten from his compulsory education, he managed to transcribe them word for word without a single error.

He even had time to check for typos.

"Still got it!"

Ian shook out his sore arm and set down the quill, which was now frayed at the tip. He looked up; the sun outside hadn't even begun to set yet.

There was still plenty of time before the next round of entering the Limbo Dream that night.

Potions Mastery (Level 2): 23/200

The high-intensity effort hadn't just allowed Ian to finish his goal ahead of schedule; it had also brought him a decent boost in ability. He now possessed a solid foundation in potion theory.

At the very least, he was better than most first or second-year students. His only shortcoming was a lack of practical experience; he would certainly be rusty if he had to start brewing potions himself.

I hope I can practice brewing potions in the Limbo Dream.

Ian was filled with anticipation for this next dream, though he also felt a twinge of worry for his two friends who had gone out to explore—surely, a soul that had already died couldn't die a second time, right?

"Crunch, crunch, crunch~"

The long hours of intense writing had left Ian hungry. He grabbed the leftover bread from yesterday and began devouring it as if it were a biscuit.

The taste was indescribable.

The Great Ying Empire was a well-known culinary desert, and the wizarding world was unfortunately no exception to this harsh reality. Fortunately, Ian wasn't particularly picky about food.

Young people have strong teeth.

Gnawing on a brick-hard loaf was just good for the gums.

"Let's see, it should be about four or five days until Hogwarts starts."

With a bite of brick-like bread and a sip of non-irradiated spring water, Ian sat outside his small wooden cabin, gazing at the faint silhouette of the castle in the distance. He felt that life had plenty to look forward to.

As the sun gradually dipped toward the horizon.

The golden glow became softer and more profound.

"Lumos!"

Since his Lumos was on the verge of leveling up, Ian didn't waste the time before bed. He lit his wand and began grinding for skill proficiency.

Lumos (Level 2): 3/200

Compared to more specialized magic and the gains in Potions Mastery, the progression of white magic like Lumos was slightly slower.

Of course.

That was only when Ian compared himself to himself. With the jump in skill level, Ian could clearly feel a moment of enlightenment; his understanding of Lumos had instantly deepened.

"So it can actually do this!"

Relying on his newfound understanding, Ian waved his wand, the light at its tip already significantly brighter. To his surprise, the light began to change colors.

Red.

Blue.

Cyan.

And a chilling green... If he could further master the technique of non-verbal casting, perhaps this basic Lumos could be used to impersonate the Killing Curse to scare people?

Hmm.

A decent idea.

But I already know the Killing Curse, so this effect is a bit redundant... Ian controlled the flow of his magic, attempting to create a light source that could briefly detach from the tip of his wand.

Unsurprisingly.

He didn't succeed.

The moment the light source left the wand tip, even though the magic circuit within it was still active, the circuit collapsed due to the lack of the wand's stabilization.

"Still not enough proficiency. Perhaps I could try imprinting this circuit onto an object similar to a wand; that should improve the stability."

Ian froze slightly as he thought of this.

He felt this idea was familiar.

He pondered it carefully.

Then, it suddenly dawned on him—isn't this exactly how alchemy works!

"Damn it! I almost founded my own school of thought!!"

Ian realized he had just missed out on an opportunity to be featured on a Chocolate Frog card.

Unwilling to give up, he ran back to flip through his books.

Sure enough.

No miracle occurred.

The initial birth of alchemy truly followed a similar line of reasoning, and centuries ago, the wizarding world had already invented alchemical devices capable of providing long-term illumination.

To this day.

The family that invented those alchemical devices still monopolized the wizarding world's lighting market, just as all the shampoo on the market came from the Potter Family.

"Damn patent monopolies!"

Compared to missing the opportunity to invent alchemy, the inability to make a fortune off a sudden flash of inspiration after leveling up his skills was perhaps what made Ian feel the most distressed.

Piles of Galleons.

Just because he was born hundreds of years too late, they had slipped through his fingers!

Could there be anything more infuriating for a broke person than that?

No!

"If I could learn some lost potion recipes or magic from Teacher Mara, I would also register patents, then lie in a Gringotts vault and count money every day!"

Back in his room.

Before falling into a deep sleep while hugging a stack of notebooks.

Ian realized that he was still just a vulgar person after all.

He didn't just love money.

Moreover.

He didn't truly hate patent monopolies; he just hated that he wasn't the one monopolizing them.

"I really am so self-aware!"

Opening his eyes once more.

The magnificent, golden hall was no different from the last time he had entered Limbo.

The witch seemed to have been waiting for a long time.

As cold, aloof, and arrogant as ever, she sat upon that unchanging bench, watching Ian—or rather, the large stack of notebooks he was clutching—with an indescribable, peculiar gaze.

"You certainly didn't disappoint me."

The witch's tone carried a hint of amazement.

"Ha, I really did bring them in."

This was actually Ian's first time attempting to bring so many things into Limbo. Fortunately, he hadn't dropped the ball; all the notebooks he had been holding had entered Limbo along with him.

"Teacher Mara, look how amazing I am!"

Ian grinned as he placed all the notebooks onto the long table. This time, the tables and chairs in the hall didn't run away, though a few teacups opened their eyes to curiously size Ian up.

"Yes, very amazing."

The witch did not stint on her praise.

However.

She clearly misunderstood what Ian wanted to show off; she thought he was boasting about his talent for bringing so many items across the boundary of life and death, rather than his ability to transcribe so much text.

Therefore.

"However, you are clearly capable of doing even more amazing things, only you may not have realized it yet." The witch gave Ian a cryptic reminder.

"Huh?"

Ian froze for a moment before reacting.

"What kind of 'more amazing things' are you talking about?"

Ian asked curiously.

"That is something you need to discover for yourself."

The witch played the riddle-master once again.

"If you could just tell me directly, I could actually treat it as my own discovery."

Ian blinked.

"..."

The witch was silent for a moment.

Perhaps she felt a bit awkward under the gaze of Ian's eyes.

She sighed.

"I have merely glimpsed some possibilities; I am not truly omniscient... How you proceed is your path, and you are the only one walking it."

The witch's low words left Ian deep in thought.

He looked at the books on the long table.

Some... bold ideas gradually began to rise in his heart.

(End of chapter)