"It doesn't matter, sir. Knowing the answer is worthwhile." Ronnie Ehrlich smiled happily, casting another glance at Grindelwald and Dumbledore.
"For the greater good."
His tone was resolute.
Without a trace of fear.
"You've already tried to kill him here once." Albus Dumbledore frowned at Grindelwald. He gleaned some unseen information from Ronnie Ehrlich's expression.
While he and Ian were still on their way, a bloody validation had already taken place here.
"As Ronnie said, Albus, this is so the little wizard can return to where he belongs and do what he was destined to do."
Grindelwald sighed as he stood up.
Seeing Albus Dumbledore's expression was serious.
"How can you blame me for the tricks your founder concocted? You, I, Ronnie, and Ian— we're all just characters dragged into this game by that guy."
His gaze turned to the giant statue on the wall.
"Your description is quite fitting."
Albus Dumbledore looked over too. That giant statue, like a thinker, shone with an eerie light. He couldn't fathom why the founder a thousand years ago had created such an enigma.
However.
One thing was sure; both he and Grindelwald were convinced: to create such a game, Salazar Slytherin was no ordinary man.
"It allowed me to figure out some things I couldn't predict about Ronnie's death." The Professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts' black robe fluttered slightly in the cross draft.
He withdrew his gaze.
His eyes carried clarity, as if the mystery had unveiled itself before him.
"It was the intervention of Salazar Slytherin from a thousand years ago, wasn't it..." In the realm of prophecy, Albus Dumbledore clearly knew less than Grindelwald.
Both had knowledge superior to the other in different areas.
"No, no, it's not Salazar Slytherin from a thousand years ago."
Grindelwald's tone was light, full of eagerness and excitement, yet without a trace of tension, a stark contrast to the increasingly grave expression of Dumbledore.
"What do you mean?"
Dumbledore had a bad premonition.
"What I mean is, don't mess up. Get serious. After all, my friend, the guy we're about to challenge together, is the true miracle that's impossible to occur."
"A still living... thousand-year legend."
In the underground palace.
Grindelwald's voice gently echoed.
With a trace of wistfulness.
And undisguised excitement.
...
The pendulum of time was swinging.
After leaving the underground palace, Ian pondered what the two old men had discovered.
"Surely it's related to you; you're not just a time loop, are you?" Ian raised his hand, looking at the curse seal on the back of his hand, and suddenly spoke thoughtfully.
"Mark of hidden time power, reveal your true power before me. As Prince commands you— unseal!"
Alright.
No response at all.
Feeling disappointed, Ian made his way to the eighth floor.
Without Dumbledore's password, Ian could only continue to kick the monster statue a few times, but luckily, the statue jumped aside, allowing him into the Headmaster's Office.
"As expected, it's a mess."
Ian surveyed the room, which looked even more cluttered than it had on his previous visits. The Phoenix perched above him immediately flew away from its temporary nest on Ian's head upon seeing its Golden Branch.
"You don't love me anymore."
Ian plucked a few Phoenix feathers. Fox the Phoenix shook his long tail feathers, looking at him kindly, showing neither anger nor annoyance at being plucked.
So.
Ian plucked some more feathers forcefully.
"Clang, clang!"
Realizing something was off, Fox finally flapped his wings and flew away from Ian, unwilling to come down from the chandelier above, even after Ian tried to tempt him with a magic potion.
"You've got strong willpower."
Ian, somewhat impressed, held up the handful of Phoenix feathers he just gathered. He couldn't understand what Fox was saying, but the continuous "clang, clang" didn't sound like a compliment.
Perhaps Ian's interaction with the Phoenix disturbed the non-human creatures sleeping in the office.
"Oh, it's you, the cat that annoys birds!" The Sorting Hat, woken from its nap, cried out loudly upon seeing Ian.
"La-la-la~"
Ian showcased his recent learning success to the Sorting Hat, which had blurted out in lack of verbal control; he didn't need a sink to wash the Sorting Hat anymore.
"You evil little wizard! Dumbledore! Where's Dumbledore!" The Sorting Hat floated in mid-air, caught in spiraling water currents.
"Dumbledore is hosting a dark party in the underground palace."
The little wizard was unmoved.
"Can you feel my progress?"
Ian increased the water flow and its twirling speed around the Sorting Hat, which bubbled in the water flow, like an unseen washing machine in action.
"I can! Of course, I can! I was wrong! Lord Prince! Spare me!" The Sorting Hat dared not say otherwise and, after a tormenting ordeal, was relocated, drenched, back to its original spot.