In the wizarding world, there's an unspoken secret: the older something is, the stronger it tends to be.
This saying isn't entirely wrong. Artifacts that withstand the ravages of time must have real substance. On top of that, ancient materials were far more abundant than what modern wizards have today—so possessing a relic passed down through generations is no exaggeration.
This isn't just idle talk—it's real. If people in the past had used something up, what could you do? Have you ever tasted thirteen-spice dinosaur meat? Should saber-toothed tiger be stewed or stir-fried? New Orleans-style wings from an Archaeopteryx—isn't that a delicacy? These magical combinations can no longer be tried, which is a real loss.
Similarly, the Elder Wand, the Invisibility Cloak, the Resurrection Stone—over all these years, there's only one of each. Half the reason is lost knowledge, the other half is the scarcity of materials. Even if you know how to slay dragons, without dragons, what can you do?
Yet, some rare knowledge, materials, or magical tools could still be rediscovered. That is—through theft! Ahem, I mean, through archaeology.
When the Weasleys went on a joyful trip to Egypt, they didn't miss visiting wizard-controlled pyramids and discovered many mysterious magical symbols—proof of Egyptian wizards restoring ancient magic.
So today, Allen and his team were once again protecting wizarding civilization—even if it required a bit of secrecy.
The Yamata no Orochi—if converted into a magical creature—was no doubt incredibly powerful.
The wizard capable of killing it was clearly formidable, and as a hero in both the wizarding and Muggle worlds, his status was naturally high.
Although the location of his grave would tempt many wizards to sneak in for investigation, publicly they would condemn such actions—after all, his reputation was well established.
But Allen felt not an ounce of guilt—if anything, he was slightly excited!
Tsk tsk, culture and all, we must discard discriminatory notions. As a wizard remembered in history and even mythologized, his magical skills were worth learning. Now the question was: should he go for a "treasure-finding talisman" or a "black donkey hoof" technique?*
After cheerfully performing an unbreakable vow, both parties finished dinner with smiles, and Allen was escorted away.
Once he returned the transport Seagulls and generously rewarded the crew with a full bucket of small fish and shrimp, Allen didn't immediately leave. Instead, he chose a quiet corner, took out the small pouch, and, after confirming no one was around, poured it out with a whoosh!—shiny golden Galleons scattered on the ground.
Counting money is the best!
Suppressing the urge to dive in, Allen brought out his usual money pouch and began filling it with the proper amounts.
Just as he was happily counting, a rustling sound came from afar, prompting Allen to hide the coins and draw his wand. What now? After working so hard to make sure no one dared touch his money, someone's finally trying?
But it was a familiar face—a Divination professor who had left a strong impression on Allen from just one meeting. She still wore her shrine maiden outfit, eyes half-closed, nose sniffing around like a little dog.
"Strange—just a moment ago it was here, now it's gone?" The petite professor muttered in confusion.
After some effort, she walked straight toward Allen, eyes still closed, face showing joy—causing a shiver to run down Allen's spine. A terrifying thought struck him: Does she smell Galleons?
Following the principle of "avoid trouble if possible," Allen entered stealth mode. Better safe than sorry—he'd stay away from the divination master for the sake of his coins. Even if he could overpower her, a little deception could easily make the money disappear.
Unfortunately, without opening her eyes, the professor pointed her ritual coin directly at him: "Begone, evil spirit!"
The attack hit with precision, forcing Allen to use a defensive spell, breaking his stealth automatically.
Ever since inheriting skills from a top assassin in Valoran, Allen had never imagined being caught like this—because of the sheer amount of money he was carrying!
"Gotcha!" The shrine maiden opened her eyes, a gleeful expression as if she had discovered a hidden treasure: "You're here to make an offering, aren't you? You must be here to make an offering!"
Alas, upon seeing Allen's face, the witch froze—she had expected a hidden animal or some simple trick, not a student with such a stash. Minors are strictly prohibited from handling so much currency!
Even worse, her plan had been solely about tricking some creature into giving up shiny objects, without considering how to get a student to make an offering—potentially disastrous.
"Child, you're unharmed, right? This is my mistake—but also the will of the gods. They sent me to guide you. Even a small offering can lead you back from the lost path and prevent future disasters."
…
So, dear professor, no apology?
None. She continued, as if Allen didn't exist: "By the guidance of the gods, we must perform divination—it's the secret to revealing life's trajectory."
She patted her pocket, realizing she had forgotten her tools—but quickly recovered: "No matter—the stars are the most reliable. Though it's dusk, under divine guidance we can still see their paths."
Waving the ritual coin, the sunlight dimmed within ten meters, and starlight became visible. Clearly, the professor had gone to great lengths to save this lost lamb—or, ahem, to secure Allen's coins.
The subsequent calculations were exhausting. Allen could see her face turning paler as she worked. In the end, her gaze toward him was a mixture of infinite respect and fear.
The stars told her—this person was the heir of the gods, their representative on Earth.
In other words, according to the stars, Allen was practically a living god—hence the title "Child of the Stars" wasn't boastful.
But now there was a serious problem—she had collected offerings intended for the gods!
Holding her beloved donation box, the shrine maiden professor fell silent. After a long pause, she placed the box toward Allen: "Please, accept the offering from your faithful, without restraint!"
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