Ian climbed to the highest tower of Hogwarts. After he entered the password, the spiral staircase slowly rose.
He pushed open the door and entered a circular office filled with strange devices and magical scrolls.
But Dumbledore was not by the door. He seemed to be busy behind the bookshelves.
Ian did not sit down at once. Instead, he walked toward the Phoenix perched on the golden stand—Fawkes.
"Our deal. It's time to fulfill it."
Ian's tone was calm, but his voice carried an undeniable force.
Fawkes shook his wings, and his scarlet feathers appeared slightly dim under the light.
"Since you kept your promise—the Christmas gift truly satisfied me—you may take the blood you need, as agreed."
"Excellent." Ian took out a specially made syringe and several crystal vials, his movements practiced and precise.
With a light tap of his wand, a faint hum came from the air. He began drawing the blood that symbolized rebirth.
But when he stopped, he realized he might have been too greedy.
The Phoenix's feathers had lost their golden radiance, and its body was visibly gaunt, as if it might burn itself to ashes and be reborn at any moment.
Ian frowned slightly, then immediately took several bottles of prepared restorative potion from the pouch at his waist and poured them one by one into Fawkes's beak.
The potion flowed down, and the color of the feathers slowly returned.
He breathed a sigh of relief, then turned to see that Dumbledore had already sat back in his chair, a hint of amusement in his blue eyes.
"I'm sorry, Professor."
"It's all right," Dumbledore said with a smile. "Since Fawkes agreed to it himself, he has to bear the consequences."
Fawkes glanced at the headmaster, gave a low cry, and then closed his eyes to rest.
"How was your holiday?" Ian asked, trying to ease the atmosphere.
"Quite pleasant," Dumbledore replied with a smile. "Especially the sweets you sent. Each one had a different emotional flavor, though I didn't particularly care for the one called 'sadness.'"
"You're not the first to say that. Susan also complained that those two—'sadness' and 'fear'—were hard to swallow."
"That's only natural. She's still young." Dumbledore took a small sip of tea and asked casually, "And your holiday? Did you spend it with anyone special? Perhaps a lady?"
Ian remained composed and replied blandly, "A few."
"Looks like you're still quite the womanizer." Dumbledore teased him with a smile.
Ian shrugged. "I prefer to call it... part of human nature."
Laughter gently echoed through the room. Dumbledore waved his wand, and two servings of tea and snacks appeared on the table.
A fragrant aroma filled the room as the fire crackled in the hearth.
Once the atmosphere had settled, Dumbledore suddenly asked, "Are you planning to use Bloodline Modification to break through the Limitation?"
"The Limitation?" Ian set down his teacup, his brows drawing together slightly.
Although he had vaguely guessed what the professor meant, he still did not dare to jump to conclusions.
Dumbledore sighed. "It is knowledge from an extremely ancient era. Almost no modern wizard knows of it. Nicolas Flamel was the one who told me."
He lightly tapped the tabletop. "You've heard of the Magic Core Theory, haven't you?"
Ian nodded. He had studied that theory in depth long ago and had even verified it personally.
"I have, Headmaster Dumbledore. Please continue."
"A wizard's magic increases with age until the Magic Core reaches its limit—that is what we call the Limitation.
"Most wizards never touch that limit in their entire lives. Only a very small number of exceptionally gifted individuals can reach it in their later years."
Dumbledore's tone was calm, yet it made the air grow heavy.
"An even smaller group touches it in their youth—people like me, Tom—Voldemort—you, and... an old friend."
Ian thought to himself, He is probably referring to Grindelwald.
That feeling of being bound was precisely the barrier he had sensed when his magic had increased to twenty-five times that of an ordinary person.
"Professor, could you explain this Limitation in more detail?"
"According to Nicolas, there are three levels to the Limitation.
"You are currently facing the First Limitation. If you break through successfully, your magic will reach a level comparable to mine."
Ian narrowed his eyes slightly.
"Only two of Hogwarts' founders may have broken through the Second Limitation—Rowena Ravenclaw and Salazar Slytherin.
"As for the Third Limitation... perhaps only Merlin and Morgan le Fay truly crossed it."
Dumbledore paused, his expression complicated.
"However, all of this is merely speculation. After all, that kind of power has long since exceeded mortal understanding."
Ian fell into deep thought.
If he calculated according to the proportions described by the professor:
Someone at the First Limitation possessed twenty-five to fifty times the magic of an adult wizard;
Someone at the Second Limitation possessed fifty to seventy-five times as much;
And someone at the Third Limitation possessed seventy-five to one hundred times as much.
Voldemort's magic was roughly sixty times greater. Could it be that he had broken through the Second Limitation?
Ian quickly recalled the scene when he had extracted Voldemort's memories. His thoughts shifted—
"No. He merely forcibly expanded his Magic Core, piling power onto it with the energy created by splitting his soul."
"That's why, although his magic is powerful, it has never been stable."
He raised his head and asked, "Professor, what about Gryffindor? He was called one of the greatest duelists in history. Why wasn't he included among those who reached the Second Limitation?"
Dumbledore smiled. "Ian, you must understand that breaking through the Limitation only means an increase in magical power. It does not mean becoming the 'strongest.'
"Whether a wizard is truly powerful depends on knowledge, skill, and application.
"If you cannot control your power, having more magic is nothing but a waste."
Ian nodded in deep agreement.
He knew very well that his true advantage in battle was not his strength, but his mastery of various magical systems and his ability to use them skillfully.
His tone remained calm, but he deliberately—or perhaps unconsciously—glanced at Fawkes.
A thought struck Ian, and he secretly speculated—
Grindelwald might have broken through the Limitation with the help of the Elder Wand;
Nicolas Flamel might have relied on the Philosopher's Stone;
And Dumbledore—perhaps he had completed his breakthrough through the power of the Phoenix.
He asked nothing more, merely drinking the last sip of his tea in silence.
Sunlight streamed in through the window, falling across the tea set and feathers on the table and casting them in a gentle glow.
The scent of mint and honey filled the air, as if all of Hogwarts had fallen silent.
Dumbledore said softly, "Ian, the path you have chosen is destined to be extraordinary."
Ian smiled faintly and replied calmly, "Professor, I only want to see a little farther."
Alchemy, space, elements, even necromancy—he could wield them all with ease.
"Professor, what about you? How did you break through?"
Dumbledore's gaze flickered, as if he were recalling the past.
"I... have had a few special experiences."
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