On the withered grass within the fra, a very young-looking rlin in a pointed hat patiently explained himself.
"You know . I have always been cautious. How could I possibly tell a re mory inside a portrait where I live?"
"And even if he told back then, it has been a very long ti. He would have moved. No one lives in the sa place for years on end, right?"
He looked perfectly sincere, and his tone sounded genuinely convincing.
The woman opposite him only stared coldly and let a few words fall.
"I do not believe you. Where are you?"
"Why will you not believe ?" rlin practically hopped with frustration. Beside him, Evans lounged against the sofa arm and took an easy sip of coffee.
For rlin in the painting to end up in this situation felt well deserved. Evans had studied that portrait for ages while he was a student. If the rlin inside had given him even a hint back then, he might have hesitated inside the pyramid rather than agreeing so readily.
Well then, Riddlers get what Riddlers deserve. Keep stewing.
He sipped again, feeling rather pleased, wishing it were sothing stronger than coffee so he could drink himself properly rry.
That said, the coffee was excellent. The beans were outrageously fresh, as if ripened, roasted, and ground just minutes ago, with a delicate fragrance lingering.
That boy, Marcus, had put in the effort. Pity he did not take Care of Magical Creatures. Evans could not cut him any favours.
Another sip, and Evans went back to enjoying the show.
An ancient magical drama like this was a treat. Whether or not he got useful information today, it was worth the price of admission.
In the fra, rlin scratched at his hair and tried explanations one after another. No matter what he said, the woman only stared without expression. After he had talked himself hoarse, she responded with another "I do not believe you," which made him visibly uncomfortable.
At last, after three different attempts had gotten him nowhere, rlin gave up and looked resigned.
"I was not entirely lying," he said. "I truly do not know exactly where he is now. At best, I have a rough idea of a few directions." Seeing the woman about to say she did not believe him again, rlin quickly added, "Even if I refuse to say, you can guess it yourself. There are only a few places he could be."
"Arthur's tomb. The sea where Viviane dissipated. The ancient tree beside the place he was born. Or the site where your teacher is sealed."
"As for which one, I do not know. My link with him only reaches that far."
Hearing that, the woman did not repeat "I do not believe you." She lowered her gaze and thought.
It seed this ti she believed him.
Seeing her think, rlin let out a slow breath. Even if he had revealed the general whereabouts of his true self, he road constantly, and she could not stray far from her sphere. She should not be able to find him.
Right?
Before he could relax for more than a heartbeat, a face slid into view at the very front of the fra, wearing a slightly mischievous smile.
"Finished your chat? Then is it my turn?"
At the sight of Evans's face beyond the fra, rlin felt an inexplicable stab of irritation. The young man might be his successor, but if not for him, rlin would not have suffered any of this.
He folded his arms and snorted.
"You cause trouble this big and still want hints from ? No. Go break the seal on your own."
After he said it, he took a closer look at the young man's expression and froze. There was no trace of disappointnt there. Only a cold smile.
A disturbing possibility flickered through his mind. rlin swallowed and looked toward the woman who still had not left the portrait, then asked with a slight tremor, "You did not co only to ask about ',' did you?"
"Mhm." The woman nodded. "I also promised him that until we find you for certain, I will help him obtain so of the information he needs."
Her voice sharpened, danger in it. "And just now, who did you call the big trouble?"
"This… well…" rlin's eyes darted. He babbled a handful of unrelated topics, then pivoted and looked straight at Evans beyond the fra, hands spread.
"If you insist on knowing, I can tell you a little ahead of ti. He never intended for you to break every seal before you learned the whole picture."
"Let think. First, to be clear, I am only a mory left within the portrait to watch over a successor's growth. He may have left far too much irrelevant mory."
"If you want details of his plan, I certainly do not know. But if you want to know why he chose you as the successor, I can share sothing." He glanced at the woman's face again. Seeing no change there, he continued softly.
"You know the definition of Dark Magic, do you not?"
"I do." Evans nodded. "Magic that uses the body, flesh, or soul as material. All Dark Magic exacts a price and carries obvious traits that are easy to recognise."
"Yes. When Hogwarts was founded, that was what Dark Magic had beco." rlin nodded, then glanced once more at the woman standing nearby in the image.
"But fifteen hundred years ago, before that dark era fell upon us, Dark Magic was not like that."
"The dark era?" Evans's expression grew more serious.
"Yes. The dark era." rlin sounded reflective. "Before that ti, there was no difference between Dark and White magic. Dark Magic was simply an intriguing branch of magic. Used properly, it could treat things that ordinary potions or healing spells could not."
"For example, injuries to the soul, congenital defects in the body, or certain extrely difficult diseases could be healed by Dark Magic."
"But when that era arrived, everything changed."
His tone carried a quiet sadness. Even the Dark Wizard King's expression dimd a shade.
"Dark Magic ceased to be a branch of magic. It beca a symbol of playing with life and soul. Its forr positive effects twisted into offerings of body and even soul to achieve extre ends."
"And all of this happened because one person stepped onto a path that should never have been hers."
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