Chapter 697: Chapter 192: Tom’s Plot, Ian’s Journey Through Ti (Part 8)
Half an hour.
An hour.
No one knows how long ti has passed.
He still hasn’t co out.
"Has Tom set a trap for ?" Ian found it unlikely; it was just sixteen-year-old Voldemort, how could his alchemy skills be superior to his own?
He had cautiously checked when entering the ti passage.
"So... did Tom deceive
again, wasn’t his destination decades ago..." Ian thought calmly, considering this to be the most likely possibility.
The remnant soul in the diary was creating a misleading situation. If Ian hesitated to follow inside, and then activated the ti machine to return to the past, it’s very possible he would be fooled once more.
What can be said.
Indeed, one cannot underestimate the intelligent Tom.
Just as Ian was deep in thought.
[Oh, soft quilt woven by the stars,
Falling lashes like the drooping skies,
We asure your breath with cedar incense,
In the clay pan, salt grains paint lunar phases,
The unhatched bird’s song,
The uncondensed dew,
The unborn thunder,
The unextinguished spark,
We sip the fragnts of your dreams,
As we sip aged honey stirred with moonlight,
Let the golden beetle carry the fragnts of ti,
Let wheat ears bow seven tis,
Until the strata seep with milky snores,
Until frost and snow on your lashes turn to spring rain...]
Suddenly.
As Ian was lost in thought.
A lodious and ethereal song suddenly echoed in his ears, the voice so pure it seed capable of cleansing all worldly dust, yet tinged with an inexplicable lancholy.
This directly startled Ian from his thoughts.
The song, like an invisible thread, tugged at Ian’s heart, causing his consciousness to blur. Then, he felt a powerful force suddenly dragging him into an unknown abyss.
Ian’s body plumted like a kite with a broken string, all senses beca blurred and distant. After who knows how long, the surrounding light gradually dimd, and objects began to take shape. When Ian opened his eyes again, he found himself in a completely unfamiliar environnt.
Dim halos swayed in the night.
The air was filled with a musty sll.
Combined with so indefinable odor of decay. Complex, mysterious patterns were carved into the surrounding walls, the ravages of ti making them look mottled and variegated.
So resembled twisted human figures, others seed like ancient scripts.
"Ah!??"
An exclamation arose.
Ian stepped away from the residual echoes of ti.
He looked down from the platform he stood on and saw a little girl in elaborate attire, wearing a coarse-cloth long skirt, kneeling on the ground, gazing up at him with a nearly blank stare.
A dark red symbol was drawn on her forehead, identical to a pattern on the wall, resembling a bird’s claw.
"Where is this place?"
Ian asked, sowhat bewildered.
As he spoke.
The delicate object in the girl’s hand crashed to the ground as she suddenly jumped up, as if struck by so unprecedented impact, her lips trembling as she turned to run toward the door.
"Awake! He is awake!!!"
The girl cried out in Old English, her voice filled with fear and nervousness, almost on the verge of tears.
"What the heck, wait a minute, I’m just a kid too, we can communicate!" Ian called out in Old English, instinctively reaching out, but the girl had already vanished outside the door.
He heard a commotion and chaotic footsteps from outside.
"This is freaking bizarre!"
Ian took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. He noticed so objects on the stone platform in the center of the altar, including bronze vessels and several bone fragnts inscribed with runes.
"Damn Tom! What era has he co to?" The noise outside grew closer, and Ian heard many footsteps approaching the stone-built room.
He drew out his magic wand.
Utterly on guard.
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