Late at night, Mason sat in a dark corner of the Gryffindor common room, making a final check of the materials he would need shortly.
A tri-color gemstone tiara, twenty-three Gold Galleons, two bottles of magical ink for drawing runes, a kilogram of ordinary ink, a marble basin large enough for Mason to crouch inside, and Elaine, who was slinking around by the stairs.
Don’t misunderstand—Mason’s enchantment didn’t require human sacrifice just yet; he simply needed Elaine to cover for him.
“Ron snores so loudly,” Elaine grumbled.
“Just thinking about having to sleep through his snoring when I get back makes me want to stuff Seamus’s smelly socks into his mouth.”
*In truth, all you’d need to do is hug Ron a couple of times; he’d be gagging so hard on your blend of perfumes he wouldn’t dare open his mouth.*
“Didn’t you bring a bunch of earplugs to the dorm?” Mason stretched his arms and legs.
Although Elaine’s cloak was oversized enough to cover them both, one always had to prepare for the worst.
If they ran into Filch, it would turn into a chase.
“Sold ’em.
Sold every last pair.
I had no idea you guys could take on so many commissions.
We burned through a hundred Galleons this week alone.
On top of that, Gringotts claims there are limits on foreign wizards exchanging currency.
I couldn’t very well pay you guys with gold coins issued by the Italian Ministry of Magic, could I?” Elaine began to rant.
The goblins at Gringotts reminded him of a deeply repulsive merchant guild.
“Those heartless scum!
Rotting goblins!
There’s barely any real gold mixed into Galleons, so how dare they set such a ridiculous exchange rate?”
“How much?”
“Thirty-two Gold Galleons for an ounce of gold!
No upper limit!”
One Galleon’s purchasing power in the wizarding world was roughly equal to five British pounds, and the current price of gold was around two hundred pounds per ounce.
That meant those goblins were pocketing at least a fifth of the gold as a transaction fee.
Mason clicked his tongue.
Having been on Elaine’s payroll for a few days, he joined him in cursing out the goblins for a good few minutes in the common room.
Ten minutes passed, bringing the time to midnight.
Mason and Elaine were still the only two in the common room.
“Filch is on the fourth floor of the main tower at this hour every night.
Over the next two hours, he’ll only pass the corridor outside the common room three times…
under normal circumstances, that is.
If you run into Filch’s stupid cat, you’d better lead it in a few circles first.
She and Filch are practically telepathic.
Trust me, you don’t want Filch blocking your only path.”
“I’m not sure if I can make it back tonight.
You just need to escort me to the castle doors,” Mason said, wanting to put Elaine’s mind at ease.
“It doesn’t matter if you’re late.
I’ll keep an eye out for a signal outside the window.
There’s just one thing I want you to remember…” Elaine’s voice grew deep and low.
With his face buried under his cloak, his aura was entirely different from his daytime persona—the cheerful, blonde socialite.
“If caught, never blow the other’s cover.
I remember clearly.
The two pushed open the portrait door.
After confirming there were no unfamiliar footsteps in the corridor, they cautiously made their way toward the ground floor.
*Too practiced,* Mason thought.
Every corner, the changing directions of the staircases, which door to enter—though Elaine moved slowly, there was not a trace of hesitation in his eyes, as if he had walked this route a thousand times before.
The moon sank beneath the horizon, making the Hogwarts corridors even darker than usual.
Elaine’s confident stride faltered only once, right as they passed the Great Hall, nearly causing Mason to bump into him.
“Just out of curiosity, are you planning to do some kind of magic experiment?” Elaine placed a hand on the front door’s latch, asking Mason as if in jest.
“Sort of?
Though I think it’s closer to alchemy.”
*Why don’t you just say you’re going to survey the Forbidden Forest’s ecosystem?* Elaine had seen Mason’s talent in Transfiguration and Potions, but alchemy?
No matter how brilliant someone was, alchemy required solid years of age and experience as a foundation.
This excuse was utterly terrible.
Still, it didn’t matter.
Elaine was hiding his own activities just as well.
Since Mason was talking nonsense anyway, he could continue deceiving him without a shred of guilt.
Leaving the castle, Mason made his way toward the edge of the Forbidden Forest under cover of the faint moonlight.
There was a reason he had asked Harry to introduce him to Hagrid earlier; the ritual site couldn’t be too close to Hagrid’s hut.
Neither Fang nor Hagrid were tracking masters Mason could easily shake off.
Atop the Hogwarts Astronomy Tower, an old man silently lowered his telescope.
Around one in the morning, at the forest’s edge, in the center of a triangular clearing enclosed by three giant ferns, Mason took out the marble basin.
Using the Levitation Charm to position the stone basin, Mason gripped the Elder Staff with both hands and funneled a fifth of his magic power into it.
Then, he slammed the iron-capped tip hard against the ground.
Guiding the surging magic like a steady hand holding reins, he rapidly leveled and cleared the ground of the glade.
Mason reached into his backpack and retrieved the magic ink he had possessed upon arriving in this world.
Popping the stopper with one hand, a wave of magical aura instantly spread five meters out.
Rather than ink, the liquid inside looked more like concentrated magic bound into liquid form.
No wonder it could record an entire spell on a single flimsy sheet of paper, remaining ready for immediate release no matter how much time passed.
Crouching down, Mason flicked his wand to draw the magical ink out of the bottle and deposit it at the mark set on the exact north side of the marble basin.
The Elder Staff served as a sculptor’s chisel in his hands, swiftly inscribing a strange runic sequence that was filled in by the glowing ink.
“Revelation.”
Twelve markings, twelve runic passages, representing the journey of the wizard who had first discovered this enchantment ritual.
“Construction.” “Crystal.” “Sacrifice.”
The first four runic passages recorded the pioneer’s early attempts to unlock the starlight enchantment:
A group of priests who stargazed on behalf of the Pharaoh received a revelation from the stars.
The message was vague and fragmented, causing every priest to hear entirely different things on different nights.
Some believed it was divine enlightenment; others saw it as an omen of calamity.
Only a lowborn priest’s servant heard power within the whispers of the stars.
To gain clearer guidance, the priests persuaded the Pharaoh of that era to construct a stargazing monument no smaller than a pyramid.
Afterward, every priest received vastly different messages and knowledge, but all shared one commonality: the whispers were bound to what their hearts most desired.
To draw down the radiance of the stars, the priests forged a colossal crystal spire and ordered the people to offer sacrifices to it day and night without ceasing.
“Conduction.” “Polar Day.” “Rebellion.” “Convergence.” “Anchor.” “Flame.”
The servant learned forbidden knowledge from the stars’ whispers, murdered his master, and assumed his identity. This chapter was copied from g.com without permission.
The priests who had first heard the divine revelation ignored the Pharaoh’s opposition and mounted the crystal spire atop the largest pyramid, successfully channeling the radiance of the stars.
The brilliant glow stored within the spire could be released into the night, illuminating the Pharaoh’s domain in place of the sun.
The Pharaoh declared that the glory of the sun and moon gods had been stolen, branding the priests as rebels.
An unprecedented, brutal civil war erupted.
In the final moments as the priests were pushed toward defeat, the servant masquerading as a priest gleaned the spire’s most terrible usage from his revelation—to aggregate the starlight that lit up the night sky into a raging torrent of luminescence.
No one knew what ultimately happened.
Roaring, ravenous flames swallowed everything, leaving behind nothing but a bottomless crater where the final battlefield had been.
“Luminance.” “Eternity.”
Centuries later, a wizard who inherited the priests’ remaining materials visited the city ruins.
Based on legends, he compiled the starlight enchantment into twelve runic passages, proclaiming that the priests and the Pharaoh had ascended into luminance during the “Final Battle” to achieve eternity.
He then presented his findings to a new generation’s Pharaoh.
Inside the marble basin, a brilliant star chart blazed to life within the ring of runes.
The light condensed into tendrils pointing toward the sky, seemingly waiting for the constellation it was to channel.
Grudgingly, Mason picked up the gemstone tiara and, along with twenty Gold Galleons, divided them into four portions, placing them at the four cardinal directions of the marble basin.
As if stimulated, the tendrils of light split into four strands, thrusting into the piles of precious metal and gems, quickly swallowing them whole.
Just as Mason was about to pour in the ordinary ink, heavy footsteps began pacing around him.
This was definitely not a sound Elaine could make.
“Perseus is watching you,” a centaur carrying a bow and arrows said, stepping out from behind a tree.
He had long, platinum-blonde hair, appearing as a blend of man and silver-maned horse.
“What do you mean?
A constellation is watching me?” Mason didn’t set down the ink.
This ritual was vital to him; without the ability to create magic ink, he wouldn’t be able to advance his Iron Magic at all after today until he found a substitute.
“Perseus watches you.
It will be a most grueling ordeal.” The centaur shook his head.
He wished to save the young wizard before him, but could not reveal too much.
He looked up at the southern night sky, where the tendrils of light within the marble basin pointed vaguely toward the exact direction he was gazing.
Tonight, the most prominent constellation there was Perseus.
“I’m not giving up,” Mason said, frowning up at the starry sky.
During Wednesday night’s Astronomy class, Professor Aurora had complained about missing the Perseids meteor shower in August due to her busy schedule.
Was there a connection between the starlight enchantment and constellations?
The centaur shook his head and walked away, deciding he would notify Hagrid later to collect the body.
In his eyes, the star representing Mason was growing dimmer and dimmer, nearly on the verge of extinguishing completely.
Mason checked his gear once more.
Centaurs did not speak lightly without reason.
The Perseus constellation certainly had no physical eyes, but in mythology, it symbolized Perseus, who had ascended to the stars.
Considering that many mythological figures in this world were actually wizards, was Mason about to fight a demigod?
Or was he meant to replicate Perseus’s deeds?
What had Perseus done again…?
As something struck him, Mason shut his eyes tightly.
The next instant, a pulling sensation washed over him, dragging his soul directly into a dream.