523: A Brand New History 7

After temporarily and deliberately setting aside Africa's blazing sun, the faint glow of the Bronze Gate, the echoes of the Old Ones, and the weighty responsibility of a Guardian in some sealed corner of his mind, Ian Prince wanted to do only one thing.

Eat.

At some point, the rain had stopped. London's sky revealed a patch of weary gray-white, with a few meager rays of far-from-warm light leaking through cracks in the clouds. The wet streets reflected the daylight, while the air was crisp and cool, carrying that clean freshness left behind by the rain. Ian dispelled the minor spells he had been using to diminish his presence and interfere with perception.

Since he had decided to spend some time walking around as an "ordinary person," being overly inconspicuous would only invite suspicion.

He merely adjusted his clothes to better suit the era's street fashion—somewhat respectable without being conspicuous. To Muggle eyes, his dark robe looked more like a vintage trench coat.

"Good grief! I could probably eat three cows!"

Hunger surged over him like a tide, reminding him of the strain this body had endured through the battle in R'lyeh, devouring authority, returning across dimensions, and a series of other feats. It was not the weak, powerless kind of hunger, but an intense craving for high-quality energy—for food that was truly "substantial."

Wizards were human too.

Even legendary wizards needed to eat.

Or rather...

Ian chose to be human.

He strolled through the gradually livelier streets, his gaze sweeping over the shops lining the road. The dining options on London's streets in this era were far less varied than they would be in later generations.

Fish-and-chip shops were everywhere, their greasy aroma mingling with the smell of vinegar; steaming pie shops stood on street corners, their windows displaying