On the system panel, Deter's Ritual Magic text was flashing wildly at an incomprehensible speed. Originally still short of reaching Silver level, but in just the blink of an eye, silver lustre had already spread completely across the display.
Even brilliant golden radiance then replaced it entirely. Silver level, Gold level. At this speed, even the Platinum level seed easily breakable.
This thought had just erged in Ciel's mind when, in re seconds, all golden radiance on Deter's Ritual Magic had transford into platinum lustre. And this still showed no signs of stopping.
His heartbeat accelerated wildly. This was absolutely insane!
Previously, so many trolls had contributed faith power to him, yet it couldn't cause such massive changes to Deter's Ritual Magic. But now, from the professors, especially that pale golden thread from Dumbledore, Deter's Ritual Magic was ascending like a rocket.
"The faith power they're contributing certainly isn't fanatic devotion. It should just be being moved by in this mont, like when I led Hufflepuff to Quidditch victory and the little badgers contributed so faith power."
"But even such shallow faith has such strong effects. Is it because the professors are extrely powerful, incomparable to ordinary wizards? And Dumbledore is an existence approaching mythical level?"
"No wonder in legends, Olympian-era beings worshipped as deities valued faith so much, especially heroes' faith. So heroes in their magnificent epic careers could repeatedly receive divine assistance, even being guided to Olympus after death."
"Perhaps because the faith power they could provide was truly on a different level from ordinary people."
Now he showed anticipation. "Wonder what level Deter's Ritual Magic will advance to this ti, and what benefits it'll bring ?"
The previous advancent, Deter's Blessing, had benefited him trendously. This ti might yield even more remarkable rewards.
Just then, as Deter's Ritual Magic's lustre continued flashing rapidly, his sixth sense began producing a peculiar tingling sensation. Strange images appeared before his eyes, with distant sounds seeming to reach his ears.
He shook his head, thinking the ntal strain from earlier had caused hallucinations now that he'd suddenly relaxed, combined with joy from Deter's Ritual Magic's rapid growth.
But after activating Occluncy, the visions and auditory hallucinations didn't weaken at all. Instead, they beca clearer with ti.
Now his odd head-shaking drew tension from the newly arrived professors and Dumbledore. Professor Sprout's voice was hoarse with unprecedented anxiety:
"Ciel? Ciel?! What's wrong? Are you under so dark magic? Severus! Albus!"
As Professor Sprout sought help from Snape and Dumbledore, he wanted to tell her he should be fine. But then clear diamond radiance suddenly blazed on Deter's Ritual Magic.
Instantly, Professor Sprout's concerned, anxious face slowly dimd before his eyes. This dark underground Forbidden Forest also vanished from his senses.
Replacing it was an unknown place of deathly silence. Here, barren earth showed pale colouration, devoid of any life, as if shrouded by death itself. At the centre stood a towering, majestic but ruined temple.
Seeing the temple instantly reminded him of his Delia Island encounter. Though unsure how he'd mysteriously arrived here, he instinctively raised his vigilance to maximum. His Occluncy operated flawlessly, constantly guarding against powerful temptations like those from Delia Island's temple.
But soon he relaxed slightly. This temple's aura differed from Delia Island's eerie temple, lacking that spine-chilling feeling. Moreover, the temple's ruins bore no strange, intricate patterns that would inject forbidden knowledge into viewers' minds. Just damaged murals.
But seeing the murals' content made him raise an eyebrow. He'd seen these paintings many tis before.
"These record the mythology of fertility goddess Deter. Deter's temple walls recorded her great achievents. The few surviving examples closely resemble these. So am I seeing Deter's temple?!"
He showed a thoughtful expression. If so, this is related to Deter's Ritual Magic's rapid advancent. Combined with his sixth sense's earlier tingling, he considered one possibility.
In more ancient tis, those with a strong sixth sense were often considered specially gifted. Major temples' priests were typically such people. Under specific circumstances, they could hear divine oracles from Olympus.
These "specific circumstances" usually involved grand, solemn rituals. Perhaps his ritual magic's rapid advancent had t certain conditions, allowing him to receive "oracles"?
This was the only possibility he could think of. Then he glanced around, finding no system panel visible. This actually relieved him further. At least proving this wasn't reality but illusion-like, similar to the system's previous insight infusions. He wouldn't truly die if he encountered danger here.
So after brief hesitation, he began walking across this deathly pale land toward the temple. Growing confusion filled his heart. This was his second mysterious temple encounter. What did this represent?
Weren't Deter temples still preserved in modern Greece? Where was this one?
Moreover, legendary Deter was the fertility goddess. Lands near her temples should be incredibly fertile. Year-round flowers that never withered, fragrant fruits even deities would covet.
But this Deter temple, ruined aside, how did the surrounding land relate to fertility? He carefully crouched down, gathering so soil. The sensation was even colder and more lifeless than it appeared.
In both lives, he had never encountered such soil. No warmth, no life, seemingly lacking even insects or microorganisms. Thoroughly dead earth.
It's hard to imagine such soil surrounding Deter's temple. He even felt absurdly that this was "like a prison for the fertility goddess. Or perhaps, an instrunt of torture?"
His thoughts grew increasingly scattered. He quickly shook his head, dismissing these groundless speculations. Regardless of truth, this clearly exceeded his current level of access. What good would knowing do?
Past experience taught him that learning too much about powerful beings' affairs was inadvisable. Thinking this, he even stopped approaching the temple out of subconscious curiosity, slowly backing to his original position.
Having just survived the most troubleso first year, with relatively peaceful years ahead, there is no need to worry about encountering noseless monsters while tending his greenhouse at night. He didn't want mysterious complications now.
Even confirming this was an incredibly realistic illusion, he chose caution. But as he retreated, the voice from his earlier auditory hallucinations returned.
This ti from within the temple, no longer distant and unclear but thunderous, shaking earth and air. He showed a startled expression. He recognised it as a female voice. An anxious female voice.
re speech like thunder? What was this, mythical level? Was Deter alive inside the temple?
When he paused without responding, the female voice erged again from the temple. He was first shaken physically, then showed a helpless expression.
This language was obviously powerful, magically imbued speech. Like the current magical world's Draconic, rmish, or Parseltongue, all are considered uniquely magical. This female voice's language was probably far more advanced than Draconic.
But he couldn't understand it! The speaking entity seed to realise this from his reaction. After a brief silence, she switched languages. He stood bewildered.
After a longer silence, she used another more primitive language, its magical content drastically reduced compared to the first. Clearly, the speaking entity was really trying to accommodate downward.
This made him feel sowhat embarrassed. He stamred so ancient Hebrew. Now it was the temple entity's turn for silence.
Long after, a lengthy, powerless sigh erged, filled with unmistakable exhaustion. He awkwardly rubbed his nose:
"Um, I roughly rembered the characteristics of your earlier languages. After leaving, I'll study them. Next ti there's an opportunity, let's communicate then."
Then he added: "For now, could you let leave here? I have family and friends waiting for . If I stay too long, they'll worry terribly."
The temple fell silent. Just as his heart sank, considering escape thods, a weak erald light flew from the temple, settling on him.
He was initially startled but soon felt a vigorous life force spreading within him. Though this life force was minor compared to his post-sublimation Legendary Life total, its level was actually higher?
It gave him a warm, spring-like soaking sensation and secure feeling of earth's embrace. The continuous days of pressure and tension from condensing the World Tree Patronus and the earlier Forbidden Forest trial's deadly combat all gradually eased and cald.
Though unsure what this power was or why it worked in illusions, he sensed no problems. At least he could confirm the temple entity bore no malice.
Regardless of whether she understood, he softly said: "Thank you."
Now the temple entity seed to sense sothing. Her previously subdued voice suddenly rose high, even crying and laughing while speaking lengthy words he completely couldn't understand.
But soon, this strange scene, including the temple, began dimming and dispersing. Familiar sights returned to his view. Hogwarts' hospital wing. He lay on a bed here.
The sounds reaching his ears were no longer the temple's thunderous, incomprehensible words but Professor Sprout's concerned calls: "Ciel. Ciel..."
When his gaze t Professor Sprout's bloodshot, exhausted eyes, she nearly wept with joy: "Thank heavens. rlin above. Three days, three whole days, you've finally awakened!"
He noticed Professor Sprout's voice was hoarse beyond recognition. Warm currents surged in his heart. So three days had passed since receiving the "oracle"?
During these three days, he probably appeared completely unconscious to others. Had his aunt been calling to him all this ti, trying to wake him?
He reached out, wiping tears from Professor Sprout's eyes. Then his hand was gripped tightly by her, as if she had lingering fears:
"Ciel, promise , never do such dangerous things again."
Without hesitation, he nodded seriously: "Don't worry, Aunt. Never again."
He silently added: "Except the final ti, killing Anthony Dolohov." But by then, it probably wouldn't count as dangerous.
After Professor Sprout's emotions sowhat recovered, he asked: "What about the other little badgers? And other students? Are they alright?"
Professor Sprout nodded: "Besides shock and so scrapes and bruises, no further harm. Most seriously injured might be Harry. He did sothing very risky and is still unconscious, but not life-threatening."
Hearing the students were fine, he finally completely relaxed. As for Harry, the Philosopher's Stone, and the two-faced man, he asked nothing.
He knew well: the more questions asked, the more interest shown, the deeper one sank. Only complete disinterest ensured staying truly uninvolved.
Let Dumbledore and the saviour handle these matters. None of his business. Moreover, if after causing such chaos at Hogwarts, Dumbledore still let the two-faced man escape with the Stone, what kind of Light Lord would he be?
Might as well find so tofu and bash his head against it! He didn't ntion these things, nor did Professor Sprout. She truly didn't want him recalling these events.
After all, many students who experienced this were still trembling in nightmares. Hogwarts was filled with a panicked atmosphere. This was an encounter that could leave lifelong trauma.
To avoid affecting students' psychology, professors had spent three days mostly casting mory Charms, temporarily making students forget these mories. But the accompanying panic emotions probably couldn't be quickly processed.
Fortunately, Dumbledore finally did sothing decent, promising to find an excellent wizard skilled in mory Charms and Dark Arts defence next term. After another school year's reinforcent, this incident's effects should completely fade from students.
Thinking this, Professor Sprout's anger and resentnt toward Dumbledore finally cald sowhat. But just then, coincidentally, a tall figure appeared at the ward entrance.
It was Dumbledore. His face was frighteningly haggard. Seeing Ciel, he managed a slight smile. But before speaking, Dumbledore saw Professor Sprout's stimulated, furious expression:
"You still want to discuss this matter? Don't even think about it! Get out!"
Dumbledore paused, smiled bitterly, then after a mont nodded: "Alright. I'll wait outside."
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