Ian felt like a balloon.
Filled with a multitude of things that did not belong to him.
"I’m unclean now!"
The murderous intent surged like the ocean, swirling within Ian’s small brain, with reason almost completely suppressed, and the boundless killing instinct urgently needed an outlet to vent, like a flood.
Perhaps it was Teacher Mara guiding it.
Or maybe it was the creature’s instinct.
Upon hearing Teacher Mara’s teachings in his ear, without a moment’s hesitation, Ian recited the spell.
"Avada Kedavra!"
It was almost a roar.
Ian had never imagined he would cast the Killing Curse under such circumstances.
Accompanied by the resonance of the incantation.
Magic power and murderous intent converged and blended within Ian, flowing to his fingertips and pouring into the unknown magic wand, the green light almost completely illuminating the entire castle.
As if a meteor was shining.
Brilliant and dazzling.
Powerful.
Unfortunately, there was no living being or soul at the point Ian’s wand was aimed, only an ancient, slightly mottled, gray-blue wall.
This is a spell that can only affect the living, and naturally wouldn’t damage the wall’s texture. However, even so, the green light spread across the wall like a spiderweb.
It shimmered for a long time.
Only then did it gradually dissipate.
Once the murderous intent instilled by Teacher Mara was released, Ian’s reason regained its territory. Beside him, the witch seemed very satisfied with the effect.
"It seems your dullness is only limited to certain areas. At least, in terms of magic, you possess a talent superior to many," the witch praised without reservation.
"My God!"
Ian looked at the gradually disappearing green light on the wall, unable to believe that this was a spell he had cast.
He.
An eleven-year-old little wizard.
Had not yet stepped foot in Hogwarts to study.
What right or virtue.
To have actually cast such a wicked and fearsome spell!
The Killing Curse!
The foremost of the three Unforgivable Curses! A curse that turned many pale!
Had he really learned it so effortlessly? In this world, there are innate princelings and dukes, so could there truly be born Azkaban inmates as well?
Ian certainly knew that the power of his Killing Curse was largely due to the murderous intent Teacher Mara instilled in him; anyone knew that the power of this spell was closely linked to intent to kill.
However.
Even with such a reason.
It did not change the fact that he had indeed learned the Killing Curse.
Name: Ian Prince
Profession: Bloodline Mage
Magic Power: Level 4
Skills: [Lighting Spell (Level 1): 76/100]
[Wingardium Leviosa (Level 1): 11/100]
[Killing Curse (Level 1): 7/100]
...
The panel doesn’t lie.
With just one casting of a magic spell under Teacher Mara’s guidance and help, Ian had managed to master the Level 1 Killing Curse and even gained seven points in skill level!
What does Level 1 signify!
It means that now, even without any more assistance from his teacher, he can cast the basic Killing Curse, and many insights about this spell have already become knowledge in his mind!
"An Unforgivable Curse, Teacher Mara, do you call this a bit of simple magic?" Ian was still immersed in horror and his mind had momentarily stalled, so he didn’t have much joy over learning a new spell.
"Such a definition didn’t exist in my era." The witch walked up to the wall and gently caressed it, and the remaining green and minor fractures disappeared completely.
"While out and about, a wizard who can’t even cast the Killing Curse usually ends up as a lamb waiting to be slaughtered." Her explanation was indeed surprisingly hard to refute.
In Ian’s view.
Teacher Mara was likely a witch from before the Middle Ages.
For wizards of that era.
Before heading out, learning some Killing Curse seemed to make some... sense?
"Remember the feeling today."
The witch turned to Ian with a reminder.
"This magic requires intense murderous intent; although it seems you won’t exactly grow into a good person in the future, for a wizard of your age, having strong homicidal intent isn’t easy... I suggest you try hunting more animals, this too can build up the murderous intent needed to cast spells."
"Of course, it’s nothing like killing people, nor like having malicious intent towards one’s kind. If you can kill someone with your own hands, perhaps you will truly master this magic."
The witch evidently couldn’t understand the pace of Ian’s learning; her patient teaching seemed to carry a hint of enticement.
Indeed.
How could a teacher who starts by teaching an apprentice the Killing Curse possibly be a kind White Witch... Ian’s prior suspicions about this teacher would likely not be mistaken.
"All right, I’ll consider moonlighting as an animal butcher..." Of course, Ian wasn’t going to adopt the witch’s last seemingly offhand suggestion; he’s not some power-hungry Voldemort.
Besides.
He actually had already learned the Killing Curse by now, and didn’t need to accumulate further murderous intent to step through the door. But Ian thought it best not to tell the witch this.
Not as a hidden card.
Why consider such complex issues within the Misty Illusion Realm?
Apart from Ian.
He had never heard of anyone able to communicate with a soul in the Misty Illusion Realm, and even if exposed, any secret here would have no impact on Ian’s life in the real world.
The reason he didn’t want to tell the witch this shocking fact was simply because her opinion of him was already bad enough, and he didn’t want to deepen her view that he didn’t quite seem like a good person.
To know.
Even with the witch’s special teaching methods, a wizard who could learn the Killing Curse in one go surely could be regarded as having some extraordinary talent in the Dark Arts, couldn’t they?
Hmm.
Perhaps if Voldemort showed up, he would call Ian an insider?
Looking at the seven skill points on his panel, Ian wished he could have such rapid progress in other magical learning.
"Teacher Mara, could you teach me another magic? Something a bit less dangerous..." Ian thought the progress on the Killing Curse might have been a special fluke.
"Greed."
The witch responded in a cold tone.
However.
The next moment, she suddenly laughed softly.
"But, greed for knowledge isn’t a bad thing, and it doesn’t raise disgust." Clearly, Ian’s "thirst for knowledge" was just the kind the witch very much appreciated.
Yet.
Facing Ian’s delighted gaze.
The witch did not begin to teach, but rather, she spoke with a smile, using a teasing tone to remind.
"Are you sure you have enough time to learn a new magic?"
Perhaps.
This teacher possessed some method, able to perceive how long Ian could remain in the Misty Illusion Realm. Almost the moment she finished speaking, Ian began to feel the surroundings becoming blurry.
"Ah!?"
Ian’s form started to fade away.
Everything around seemed to be receding... as the soul was about to leave the sanctuary, Ian vaguely saw the witch tearing off a corner of her dress.
Some writing was etched onto it, and then it was placed in Ian’s hand.
"Consider it homework."
"Dear apprentice, don’t let me down..."
The illusion faded.
Reality returned.
When Ian opened his eyes and looked at the clock.
The witch’s expectant whispers seemed to still echo in his ears.
He sat up.
Raised his hand.
The dress fragment carrying ancient knowledge, which had accompanied him across the bounds of life and death, now quietly lay in his hand, glimmering with a silvery luster under the moonlight.