Dago had no objections. The two left the spatial tent, with Baker leading the way as they talked.
The ripples of folded space slowly smoothed out behind them.
The air was thick with the acrid ozone scent of scorched magic.
Baker walked ahead, the hem of his robe swaying.
Yet it did not stir a single speck of dust.
His voice traveled through a vibration of mental power, ringing directly in Dago's ears.
"This Isidore's Prodigy Seat Contest will be far more intense than any of the previous ones..."
Baker paused, his tone turning profound.
"Some have even concluded that this year's genius chief may very well obtain Isidore's true legacy left behind in the south."
Dago's eyelids twitched slightly, his mental-power tendrils keenly catching the key phrase.
The true legacy?
Every wizard understood what that meant.
It represented a path of truth leading to a higher dimension.
It might even involve prying at the level of rules themselves.
"Has the Law Wielder legacy Isidore left in the south never been taken?"
Dago's question carried just the right amount of puzzlement.
He needed more intelligence to build his model.
"Part of it has not, and it is the most crucial part."
Baker turned his head. His eyes gleamed with the phosphorescent light of greed for knowledge.
"No one has ever been able to meet Isidore's requirements for an inheritor..."
"Though no one knows exactly what standards he set for inheriting that key portion of the legacy."
The unknown often meant the greatest terror, and also the greatest temptation.
That was an iron law of the Wizarding World.
Two wizards appeared ahead.
Unconcealed elemental radiation surged from their bodies.
They were like two moving volcanoes that could erupt at any moment.
Baker raised a hand.
The motion was slight, yet it