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He simply believed numbers couldn't make up for the gap in quality.
"I thought you were the main attacker, go up there, smack Herpo down in a few moves, and we're done." Ian eyed the priests, most of whose magic power was about the level he'd had before he'd even started school.
Honestly, He was starting to lose confidence.
"I am the main force," The goddess replied, "But only as the main tank. Finishing Herpo will depend mostly on you. Can't you tell from my gear that I'm built for tanking?"
"Have you ever played Battle God Chess? Don't you know my role is the tank?" The "priestess" spun in place to show off her armor.
And the massive greatsword that whistled through the air when she swung it.
"…"
Ian was momentarily speechless. He turned his gaze toward Cassandra. "Even if you're right about all that, isn't it a bit… questionable to bring a child into this kind of battle?"
Indeed, Cassandra might have been a gifted prophet, but her own magic level was clearly low. In a fight involving legendary wizards, she probably wouldn't even qualify as cannon fodder.
Faced with Ian's concern,
"Don't underestimate her, she's the key to victory." The "Priestess" hefted her giant sword with a light smile, then strode forward to take the lead amid bows from the assembled priests.
A procession of wizards.
Majestic and orderly, they marched toward Mount Vesuvius.
Every priest had their own flying method. The variety of flying items on display dazzled Ian, and his desire to one day break the monopoly of the flying broom grew stronger and stronger.
"What about me? I can't use magic." Riddle's eyes went wide as one wizard after another took off into the air. Left on the ground, he looked helplessly at Ian beside him.
"Of course I'm taking you."
Ian grabbed Riddle, then turned into a cloud of white mist and shot into the sky, hauling the swaying, dizzy Riddle along as they sped toward Mount Vesuvius.
"This is some sort of shortcut application of human transfiguration, isn't it?"
Riddle found Ian's flying method fascinating. He hadn't yet mastered turning himself into black mist, and this magic struck him as absolutely ingenious.
"If you're lucky, you'll have your whole life in Azkaban to ponder that question." When they landed, Ian simply tossed Riddle to the ground.
Riddle hit face-first like a dog eating dirt, but didn't lose his temper, he just spat out a mouthful of black, mineral-rich soil, then silently stood up and looked toward the ruined temple he'd only just left.
The night was as thick as ink, weighing heavily upon the land, smothering all things in lifeless darkness. Hidden within it, an ancient and gloomy temple crouched like a slumbering behemoth, exuding a chilling aura.
Its outline flickered faintly in the dark, the timeworn walls scarred by the marks of age. Now and then, strange green ghostly lights seeped faintly from cracks in the stone, flickering like will-o'-the-wisps and adding an extra layer of dread to the deathly stillness.
It looked like a structure that had erupted straight from the earth, newly risen, soil still clung to its bricks and tiles, tufts of plants swaying gently in the wind.
"What are they doing?" Ian approached the goddess, who was gazing at the temple.
Since they'd arrived late, all he saw was a group of priests chanting incantations at the temple. One after another, spells flowed from their hands, together weaving a magical barrier.
"I can feel the evil soul inside. These priests are sealing the space-time within the Death God's temple. That way, Herpo can't flee to another time or place."
"When dealing with a legendary wizard, this is absolutely necessary. You can never imagine how many trump cards a legend has. I've even heard of a certain legend called Merlin who, like a slippery mudfish, tricked and infuriated several gods." The goddess spoke with a hint of lingering fear, perhaps she herself had been one of Merlin's victims.
"Herpo has mentioned Merlin too. But if I remember correctly, Merlin should be from after your era?" Riddle, ever the straight-A student, had a solid grasp of history.
He voiced his doubt cautiously.
"Before you ask something like that, think carefully, what does 'legendary' truly mean?" The goddess scoffed, mercilessly mocking Riddle's lack of vision.
Riddle fell into thought.
"What does it mean?" Ian asked aloud.
He had been troubled by the idea of the legendary path for quite some time.
"It means you must make yourself the core of a story, one that runs through history." The goddess spoke without concealment, casting Ian a look full of meaning.
"As for what kind of story that is… well, that depends on your ambition. The simplest would be to become a 'dragon-slaying champion,' but I suspect that's not the path you want."
Her eyes seemed to pierce the heart, shining deeper than the stars themselves, as though they could see through flesh straight to the soul.
"I can feel it, your path will be greater than greatness itself."
She spoke suddenly.
Vague and enigmatic.
Leaving Ian utterly baffled.
"Challenging a legend, that should count as the core of a story too, right? I just don't know if it fits the rules of 'running through history.'" Ian was more concerned about whether his own legendary path would proceed smoothly.
"Perhaps." The goddess's reply was vague and noncommittal.
Just then, The shield that enveloped the entire dark temple was finally complete. All the priests prostrated themselves upon the ground, turning their bodies into magic nodes to maintain the barrier.
"Let's go." The goddess stepped forward.
Ian was just about to follow when a small hand reached from behind and clasped his.
"God, do you need me to sing for you? I heard you're going to fight a terrible and evil scourge." The young girl Cassandra looked up at Ian with worried eyes and an innocent face. She was the only one who hadn't taken part in the earlier magic ritual, likely because she was still too young to have learned that kind of magic.
"If you think it's necessary, then of course." Ian patted Cassandra's head and slipped a bracelet onto her wrist.
"It will keep you safe."
Ian still remembered the eruption of Mount Vesuvius. Originally, he had planned to rally the city's residents before it happened, but no one could have expected Herpo to appear and cause such trouble. With no time for a full evacuation, he could only settle for saving whoever he could, one life was better than none.
"This must be a blessing, right!" Cassandra looked at the bracelet on her wrist in delight.
"This is just a simple alchemy item." Ian chuckled softly.
He cast a glance at the priests prostrating on the ground, then hurried to catch up with the goddess, who was holding Riddle in one hand, seemingly using him as a makeshift shield, much to Riddle's obvious reluctance.
Behind them came a soft, gentle singing voice, Childish yet beautiful.
(To Be Continued…)