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Beneath an eternally twilight sky, the colossal form of the Ancient Dragon nearly filled the entire courtyard of the ancient castle. Its pitch-black scales gleamed with a metallic sheen in the fading sunlight.
Its enormous head hung low, its amber, vertical pupils fixed on Ian. Its nostrils flared slightly, and the hot breath it exhaled carried the stench of sulfur, causing the moss on the ground to tremble faintly.
The dragon slowly lay down, lowering its gigantic head as its breathing grew heavy and slow, carrying a mix of sulfur and decay.
It pressed its snout against Ian's body, sniffing him from head to toe, inch by inch, as if confirming some vital piece of information.
"More than one," It murmured, its voice low and certain, even tinged with a hint of smugness. "You carry the scent of more than one Ancient Dragon on you."
The Ancient Dragon's voice was deep and resonant, yet it radiated an undeniable pride. It was a witness to history, a relic of a bygone era, the last of its royal lineage in the river of time.
"You must have slain several Ancient Dragons recently," the Ancient Dragon's voice rumbled like muffled thunder, carrying an unwavering certainty, as if it were absolutely convinced of the accuracy of its observations.
"Are you trying to collect twelve Ancient Dragons to prove yourself as the legendary Dragon Slayer?" Strangely, the Ancient Dragon showed no anger whatsoever at Ian's slaughter of its kin.
Perhaps this was because it had never encountered another Ancient Dragon since its birth, nor had it ever communicated with any of its kind. After all, it had been the last pureblood Ancient Dragon in the world during its lifetime.
From a young age, it had lived in isolation, mingling among humans.
It was only natural that it felt little sense of belonging to its original race; it was much like someone who has lived abroad since childhood, they might no longer share the mindset expected of someone from their homeland.
"What, twelve Ancient Dragons? The Dragon Slayer?" Ian stood on the stone steps before the castle. It was a dark night, and the moonlight shone on the Ancient Dragon's jet-black scales, casting a cold, steely glow.
The dragon before him was even larger than the castle itself. Its back was adorned with jagged bone spines like mountain peaks, and each scale seemed to carry a thousand years of memory.
To be honest, Ian was genuinely astonished.
He had killed Ancient Dragons before... more than one, in fact.
Having crossed over into the ancient era, he had encountered several incidents involving these primordial beasts.
By his count, Ian had likely killed around three Ancient Dragons. However, as a Legendary Wizard himself, he hadn't gained any legendary proof from these dragon slays.
Faced with the young wizard's confusion, the soul of the Ancient Dragon guarding the castle did not answer immediately.
"It seems you've crossed over time," It continued in its deep, rumbling voice, sounding like the most astute Ancient Dragon in the universe.
Ian froze slightly and raised an eyebrow.
"Why are you so certain?" He wasn't in a hurry for an answer, more curious about why this Ancient Dragon had noticed something no one else had.
In response, the Ancient Dragon let out a snorting laugh, its thick tail gently striking the ground, causing the courtyard's stone tiles to tremble slightly. "Because I am the last pureblood Ancient Dragon, and it is an undeniable fact."
It lifted a foreclaw, its sharp talons lightly tapping the ground. "If you've slain a dragon, then you must have crossed over time."
The Ancient Dragon raised its eyes, the massive pupil shimmering with the light of ancient wisdom.
Its words were undeniably sound.
Ian finally realized that this Ancient Dragon wasn't a wild, elusive creature but a pureblood specimen personally bred and raised by the Hogwarts founders, especially Rowena Ravenclaw herself.
Its knowledge likely surpassed that of most wizards.
"So, it's possible for a wizard to cross over time and slaughter Ancient Dragons in the past, right?" Ian knew this contradicted textbook theories about time travel.
But...
Textbooks, after all, weren't always entirely accurate. They merely represented what was generally true for most wizards. There were always exceptional wizards who defied conventional wisdom.
"Yes, that's right." The Ancient Dragon nodded, confirming it.
"Did Lady Ravenclaw research time travel?" Ian asked curiously. He suspected that the Ancient Dragon's knowledge of time manipulation stemmed from the Hogwarts founder herself.
And he was right.
The Ancient Dragon lazily swished its tail, its scales rubbing together with a metallic sound.
"She wrote over a dozen papers on the subject, detailing her speculations on the possibility of time travel."
It narrowed its eyes as if recalling something.
"The most famous was titled 'On the Deceptiveness of Time.' Its central argument was that time isn't immutable; it simply requires sufficient skill to 'trick' it."
It had to be said: as the Hogwarts Dragon, this Ancient Dragon truly knew a great deal about the school's hidden history.
Ian grew interested. Ian settled down on the stone steps in the courtyard.
"How do you trick it?"
He had always enjoyed learning about things he didn't understand. The Ancient Dragon before him could even be considered his senior, having roamed Hogwarts for countless years.
Hearing this,
The Ancient Dragon bared its gleaming white fangs in what might have been a smile. "It's simple," it rasped. "If something remains unknown and doesn't trigger a chain reaction, Time won't retaliate."
It used a claw to scratch several lines into the ground as if drawing timelines.
"If you go back in time and do something trivial, like picking up a stone and putting it back down or talking to yourself, time won't care at all."
"As long as you're discreet, no one will ever know."
"If your actions don't create a chain reaction, time will automatically smooth out those tiny fluctuations. History is like a mirror; it may occasionally get scratched up, but it always repairs itself."
It must be said that Ian had underestimated the wisdom this Ancient Dragon possessed.
It was remarkably knowledgeable.
"But what if you change something significant?" Ian pressed.
"That depends on your methods," the Ancient Dragon snorted.
"Skilled wizards can create 'replacement events'... making history appear to follow its original course, even if the details have changed. Time is very lazy, as long as the broad strokes remain intact, it won't punish those who play minor tricks on it."
This still went against everything Ian had learned in textbooks.
But perhaps the Ancient Dragon's perspective was the correct one.
Ian fell into thought.
He recalled his actions in ancient Pompeii; his actions should have undoubtedly disrupted the timeline. Yet history remained unchanged.
"A kind of time deception?"
Ian reflected on his experiences in Pompeii. He had saved a young girl, altering her fate. In that moment, he had clearly seen the fear and hope in her eyes.
However, after he returned to the modern era, history books still recorded the date of Pompeii's volcanic eruption, as well as the fact that countless people had died.
No one remembered that girl.
Nor did anyone remember what he had done.
The gods must have used some far more sophisticated method to have completely deceived Time itself.
Ian listened intently, his gaze gradually sharpening with focus.
"Then... how can you act 'without being noticed'?"
The Ancient Dragon fell silent for a moment, seemingly pondering whether to impart such secret knowledge to a human.
In the end, it spoke:
"First, leave no trace. This means ensuring no one remembers your actions. You must move like a phantom, leaving no evidence, no name."
"Second, avoid altering critical junctures. You can kill a passerby or steal a stone, but if you change a pivotal event—preventing a war, saving a monarch, killing an infant... Time will immediately detect the disruption and begin to correct itself."
"Third, exploit loopholes in the rules. Certain moments are natural blind spots for Time, such as solar and lunar eclipses, dimensional boundaries, and the convergence points of multiple universes. In these places, Time's perception strength is at its weakest."
"Fourth, let History interpret you. Have you ever wondered why some Legends sound absurd yet exist in reality? It's because they are modified versions of reality. When your actions are sufficiently ambiguous and vague, History will fabricate plausible explanations for you, making your existence 'reasonable.'"
To be honest, it was astonishing that the Ancient Dragon could provide such detailed answers on this subject.
It had probably read Ravenclaw's papers.
Ian was dumbfounded.
He suddenly thought of Dumbledore.
"So... Dumbledore became a legend through similar methods?" He murmured softly. Many of Dumbledore's past actions suddenly made sense to him.
Perhaps the old headmaster had also read Lady Ravenclaw's thesis, gaining insights into the rules of Time.
And perhaps, Lady Ravenclaw's papers might not have only covered how to become a legend, but also methods for deceiving Time to resurrect the deceased. As the headmaster of Hogwarts, he would have been the most likely custodian of the founders' legacy.
Perhaps Dumbledore had discovered Ravenclaw's secret library. Or perhaps every headmaster inherited that body of knowledge. In any case, there must be a reason why Dumbledore harbored such thoughts.
Lady Ravenclaw's research on deceiving Time and History was likely the driving force behind Dumbledore's bold experiments and speculations.
After all, Ian had witnessed Dumbledore's memories and knew he had been studying these subjects since his youth. If Lady Ravenclaw's research truly survived in the world, Dumbledore would inevitably have found it.
Professor Dumbledore had personally said that one of the reasons he chose to become Hogwarts' headmaster was precisely because the headmaster of Hogwarts could access knowledge that others could not.
"So people in ancient times were already experimenting with this kind of manipulation?"
Ian suddenly felt a sense of absurdity. Time, a law considered inviolable by ordinary people, seemed to be nothing more than a draft that could be repeatedly revised in the hands of true masters.
"Then, what if..." He hesitated, then voiced his speculation about Dumbledore's plan, "What if someone performed a significant act in the past that was never recorded in history?"
The Ancient Dragon's eyes narrowed slightly.
"Then that means a higher-level power intervened." It raised its head, gazing at the darkening sky. "Such as Gods, or... entities that touch upon the fundamental rules of existence."
Hearing this, Ian recalled Dumbledore's words: that Ian's participation would be essential to the plan to resurrect Ariana. And wasn't Ian himself a symbol of the very rules being manipulated?
If he truly was the Raven, then he represented the closest thing to changing the past's fate. This aligned perfectly with what the Ancient Dragon had just said.
The possibility that Ravenclaw's research might be in Dumbledore's possession grew stronger. A brief silence fell over the courtyard as the night wind rustled through the distant forest.
Ian stood up and brushed the dust from his robes.
The Ancient Dragon lazily settled back down, curling its tail over its nose.
"No need to thank me. It's been ages since I've discussed these matters with anyone." Its voice gradually faded as it closed its eyes, but Ian shook it awake again.
"Hey!" He tapped the dragon's snout, his voice urgent despite its quietness. "Don't fall asleep! I still have questions!"
The Ancient Dragon, which had already begun to doze off, snapped its golden eyes open again at his voice, its gaze a mix of impatience and scrutiny.
"What is it?" It muttered in a low voice. Its tone carried the dignity of someone saying, "You'd better have a good reason for disturbing my rest."
Ian didn't back down. Instead, he stepped closer, his gaze unwavering. "About the Dragon Slayer."
The Ancient Dragon raised its head slightly, a trace of interest flashing in its eyes.
"You wish to become a Dragon Slayer?" Its voice was deep and slow, as if evaluating a soul about to step into an abyss.
"Not wish," Ian corrected. "I want to understand. Twelve Ancient Dragons achieving legendary status... What does that mean? Why twelve? Does the number hold any significance?"
The Ancient Dragon fell silent for a moment, then spoke slowly:
"It is a form of glory."
Its words resonated like the tolling of an ancient bell, echoing through the air.
"Dragon Slayer is not merely a title."
"When you slay an Ancient Dragon, you carve a deep mark into history. When you slay twelve, you are recognized as a Dragon Slayer."
"This is a ritualistic achievement," it continued, "a response from the world itself. By killing the dragon, you prove your power, and the world will grant you a reward."
"A reward?" Ian's eyes lit up. "What kind of reward?"
The Ancient Dragon shook its head gently, its tone tinged with resignation. "How would I know? I'm not a wizard. You humans always insist on labeling, categorizing, and ranking everything."
"But the world's response to a dragon slayer isn't fixed. It could be knowledge, power, or some hidden authority... even an enhanced sense of 'being.'"
Ian frowned in thought. "An enhanced sense of being?"
"Exactly." The Ancient Dragon nodded. "It's like standing out from the ordinary, being specially marked by the threads of fate. This is difficult to describe, but you could understand it as becoming more 'significant.'"
Ian listened, completely absorbed.
He knew.
If Dumbledore learned this answer...
Perhaps.
Eleven more Ancient Dragons would suffer.
(End of Chapter)