234: Merlin Ambrosius...?

The magic-forged Bifrost pierced through the glacier. 

The immense magical energy left eternal frost in its wake. 

The box trembled violently, gradually breaking free from the withered plants. 

If this continued, not only would the glacier be destroyed, but the entire Dragon Field would be wiped out. 

"Why the fuck is something this dangerous in the Dragon Field?!" 

John couldn't help but curse as floating text continuously appeared on the box's surface. 

He focused carefully and recognized them as ancient inscriptions. 

"The Casket of Ancient Winters?" Reading the words aloud, John found it utterly absurd. 

A legendary treasure of the land of giants—an artifact said to be capable of freezing everything. 

Even for John, it took a moment to process the existence of mythology within the wizarding world. 

Pointing his wand at the Casket of Ancient Winters, John channeled his magic, attempting to destroy it. 

"Reducto!" 

The white blast struck the Casket, but John's spell, capable of shattering buildings, didn't leave so much as a scratch. 

Unwilling to give up, John continued unleashing every spell he could think of in rapid succession.

Without exception, the Casket of Ancient Winters continued its operation, freezing everything in its path.

At this point, John was completely out of options. He was starting to think that Heimdall really was blind—sending him down here had directly led to the destruction of the entire Dragon Field.

Just then, a silver thread drifted past his eyes.

Following its movement, he spotted the soul fragment.

The fragment floated toward the frozen figure, struggling to pass through the ice and reach inside.

John's expression froze for a moment before a strange thought popped into his head. Could that be the ice sculpture's soul?

He focused on where the soul fragment was heading and quickly noticed something unusual.

Despite the powerful surge of freezing magic, the fragile soul fragment remained completely unharmed, like a candle flickering in the wind that refused to go out.

"The cold only affects things that physically exist." A glint flashed in John's eyes.

The soul fragment drifted toward him, as if pleading for help.

"You want me to melt the ice sculpture?" John asked.

The soul fragment bobbed up and down, as if saying, Yes!

John took a deep breath. Dragon horns sprouted from his head, and wings unfurled from his back.

His body rapidly expanded, transforming into his full dragon form in an instant.

Aiming at the frozen figure, John opened his massive jaws.

||Blazing Flames!||

Fuuaa!!

A surge of fire erupted, engulfing the ice sculpture in crimson flames.

Under this intense heat—enough to melt solid rock—the ice sculpture began to melt slowly.

"Not hot enough."

The scales on John's neck shimmered with light as he unleashed another breath attack.

This time, the flames were even more terrifying.

As time passed, the ice sculpture finally melted completely.

John reverted to his human form. Just as he was about to let the soul fragment approach—

WHOOSH!

The stiff-bodied man, now freed from the ice, was immediately caught in the rushing magical currents.

He was flung straight into the wall—And shattered into pieces.

John: "…!!"

What had all that effort been for?

The soul fragment also seemed caught off guard. It had been moving excitedly just moments ago, but now it froze mid-air, stunned.

"Forget it. Relying on others is useless."

Seeing the mess before him, John knew better than to count on outside help.

With a flick of his wand, his pupils transformed—turning into dragon's eyes.

The tip of John's wand spat out flames, gathering into a massive crimson dragon.

"Fiendfyre!"

Summoning the Fiendfyre, he momentarily halted the unstoppable torrent.

The entire room ignited as John commanded the Fiendfyre to lunge at the Ice Casket, the source of the magical flood.

Under the terrifying flames, the layer of frost covering the Ice Casket began to melt.

The raging current clashed against the Fiendfyre, which roared furiously in return.

Two formidable magics—absolute cold versus an all-consuming inferno—Neither side gave an inch.

John simply let go of his control over the Fiendfyre.

Freed from restraint, the fire swelled explosively, yet even it couldn't escape being overwhelmed by the Ice Casket's flood.

"Can I use Soul-Devouring Curse on it?"

"An!m@ Ed##x!"

Raising his right hand, black threads seeped out from his limited glove, gradually dyeing his silver arm pitch black.

John's right eye also darkened as the threads spread toward the Ice Casket.

His expression was solemn as the Soul-Devouring Curse slowly coiled around its surface.

The Soul-Devouring Curse completely enveloped the Ice Casket. 

In an instant, a coldness so intense it could nearly freeze the soul itself wrapped around John's body. 

Bit by bit, his body began to ice over. 

His eyes widened—this wasn't supposed to happen. 

Why… why was his soul freezing? 

There was no time to pull back now. John could only watch as the ice crystals encased him entirely. 

Just as he was about to lose consciousness, he saw the soul fragment rushing toward him. 

Without hesitation, John reached out and caught it. 

The next second—Ting... everything turned black and white.. His thoughts stopped. 

Frozen in place with his hand outstretched, the Soul-Devouring Curse continued to coil around the Ice Casket. 

The Fiendfyre, gradually subdued by the flood, now had ice crystals forming atop its flames. 

Then, the fiery dragon itself started to freeze, caught in a paradoxical cycle— 

The Fiendfyre melted the ice, the flood covered the ice, and the ice returned to freeze the flames. 

A bizarre balance had been achieved, temporarily halting the flood's path of destruction.

But this balance would eventually break as the Fiendfyre was gradually worn away.

When that happened, a world frozen in ice would come into existence.

The Fiendfyre grew weaker and weaker—the flood could even freeze flames.

.

.

.

Crack.

Suddenly—

A crisp sound echoed.

The soul fragment slowly moved across John's body.

With great effort, it reached his right hand.

The Soul-Devouring Curse, still entwined around the Ice Casket, had formed a channel between them.

John's guess had been correct—the Ice Casket didn't freeze souls.

Bit by bit, the soul fragment wriggled its way into the channel. It compressed itself into a needle-thin point and, with all its might, stabbed into the Ice Casket.

A tiny hole broke open in the casket, and the soul fragment wedged itself inside.

On the other end, the soul fragment morphed into a silver thread, linking back to John's hand.

The silver thread shimmered faintly. 

John's previously frozen consciousness gradually revived, and his thoughts began to stir. 

Though he still couldn't move, he realized that his magic was still active. 

His eyes shifted, and he caught sight of the silver thread. 

Summoning all his strength, he moved a single finger and made contact with it. 

In that instant, his awareness compressed and funneled through the silver thread, condensing into a single point before abruptly expanding. 

The golden room vanished before his eyes. 

Instead, he found himself in a dreamlike, ethereal space. 

"You finally made it." 

!!?

Snapping out of his daze, John turned around. 

He glanced down at himself—his clothes had changed to white. 

Following the voice, he looked up to see a man standing before him. 

The man's tone was relaxed, carrying a hint of relief. 

But none of that mattered. 

What mattered was that this man had the exact same face as Ekrizdis. 

"You don't think you owe me an explanation?" John steadied his emotions, his gaze cold as he stared at the man. 

The man looked a little embarrassed. Scratching his head, he said, "A.. ahaha.. Well… I actually wanted to deal with this place's hidden dangers back in the day. But the power here was far stronger than I expected, so I could only seal it temporarily."

The man suddenly seemed to remember something. He extended his hand toward John, a friendly smile on his face.

"Ah, I forgot to introduce myself. We come from the same place."

"The same place?"

"Of course! We went to the same school." The man puffed out his chest with pride.

John was momentarily stunned and asked in confusion, "You were a Hogwarts student too?"

The man smiled slightly and said, "And I was also in Slytherin. You can call me Ambrosius, or by my full name…"

"Merlin Ambrosius."

John froze on the spot, his brain momentarily unable to process what he had just heard.

When he finally snapped back to reality, he couldn't stop himself from yelling in shock, "Merlin's beard—!!"

"Ahem." Ambrosius reached out and stroked his perfectly white chin, looking helpless. "I really don't understand why you people are so obsessed with my beard."

John took a moment to digest the fact that Merlin himself was standing in front of him.

Then, he suddenly thought of the body outside, and his expression turned odd, as if he wanted to say something but hesitated.

"Just say it." Ambrosius could tell from John's look that something was up.

After careful consideration, John finally asked, "So… are you dead? No, I mean, are you actually alive after all this time? Because I just saw your body get smashed to pieces."

His words came out a bit jumbled, but that wasn't his fault.

Anyone who suddenly ran into the Merlin—the legendary wizard—would react the same way.

Ambrosius was remarkably patient and said, "You could say that, though I'm not entirely sure myself."

His answer was strange. He explained, "Strictly speaking, I am not the real Merlin. I am the Hogwarts Merlin."

"Uh… what's the difference?" John asked, feeling like a confused elementary school student.

Ambrosius simply sat down and said, "The difference is that the legendary Merlin could be me, but I am not necessarily the legendary Merlin."

Most people would probably be completely baffled by this statement.

But as an alchemist, John could pick up on the deeper implications.

"So what you're saying is that you are related to the legendary Merlin—maybe as a creator and a creation?"

"Bingo." Ambrosius clapped his hands, clearly impressed by John's understanding. "You're familiar with Horcruxes, right? I'm similar to one. I share a connection with that Merlin, but we are also separate entities."

"So after Merlin created you, you enrolled in Hogwarts. Then Heimdall mentioned a wizard who taught him prophecy—was that you or the real Merlin?"

John recalled the wizard who had taught Heimdall prophecy and wondered which Merlin it had been.

Ambrosius shrugged and said, "I'd guess it was him. Or maybe another Merlin entirely. After all, I came here later and failed to seal this place."

This Merlin had come afterward and ended up frozen.

"...."

John's expression grew even stranger.

The Hogwarts Merlin and a legendary artifact from the land of giants—both existing in the same place?

Was he really still in the Harry Potter universe?

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