Hogwarts: Bloodline Legend

Chapter 706

It's quite obvious.

The Priest mistook Ian's work for his teacher's work. It's understandable, after all, even in the twentieth century, few would believe a Little Wizard could concoct a Master Level Magic Potion.

"We didn't even notify the Night Watcher of this matter, yet your Celestial Eye managed to discover it… indeed, such powerful magic is needed to protect our city."

The Priest cast a glance filled with mixed emotions of awe and comfort at Cassandra.

As Cassandra shyly avoided his gaze, he looked at Ian again, "Follow me, I hope the traveler from afar can heal this cursed sin."

With that,

The Priest led Ian and Cassandra through the labyrinthine corridors.

The walls on both sides of the passage were engraved with strange symbols and patterns, similar to those relating to God on the tower, Ian couldn't help but take a few extra glances and silently memorized them.

Photographic memory.

Basic skill for someone like him. Soon, they arrived at a concealed room where the dim light was suffused with a pungent medicinal smell.

"Creak!"

The Priest opened the hidden door beneath the floor.

He raised his hand.

A ball of light appeared in his hand, illuminating the dim underground stairway—this magic without a Magic Wand or Incantation left Ian even more amazed.

"Indeed, Teacher Morgan was right, ancient Wizards truly didn't need a Magic Wand." Seeing is believing, Ian was finally convinced of the possibility of casting without a wand at this moment.

What?

Morgan could also cast without a wand?

Can the Legendary Witch even be used as a normal reference?

"Is this a ward?"

Ian followed alongside Cassandra as they descended behind the Priest, the damp and dark environment around made his nose slightly uncomfortable.

"This was formerly a dungeon, it's now used as an isolation ward," the Priest's response was brief, his voice without much emotional fluctuation.

Deep in the dungeon, the stone steps spiraled downwards, Ian's deerskin boots trod upon the moss-covered steps, the Magic Potion bottles clinking at his waist, the emblem on the Priest's Robe glimmering coldly under the torchlight.

"We're here."

The Priest pushed open the rusty iron door, a decaying scent wafting in. The room was dim, suffused with a pungent medicinal smell. The patients were all withered, their skin wrinkled, as if drained of moisture. Some patients had only their limbs starting to dry, while others had most of their bodies in a state of decay, varying in severity, but undoubtedly, they were all progressing towards becoming a shriveled corpse.

"Don't look into their eyes."

The Priest warned while pulling Cassandra back as she tried to follow Ian closer. He hung his head, much like the other Priests caring for the patients in this dungeon ward.

"What's happening?"

Ian approached one of the patients, the man closest to the door reached for a water jug, Ian handed it to him, and after thanking him in a hoarse voice, he began gulping down water.

"Without a doubt, it's a Curse, one we Wizards cannot solve," said the Priest who brought them, lighting incense in the corner, the purple smoke making a rustling sound.

"Who is this?"

Seeing Ian, the other Priests in the cell looked somewhat puzzled at Priest Laine.

"He's an Apprentice of a Master of Magic Potions, here to take a look for his teacher." Priest Laine indeed misunderstood Ian, but Ian did not refute this explanation.

"Have people from big cities heard about our situation?" A female Priest nodded, no longer asking questions, but concerned whether these patients could receive assistance.

"Maybe?"

Priest Laine looked at Ian in confusion.

He didn't understand the situation either.

If the guarantor weren't the city's Dream Guardian Queen, he wouldn't have brought strangers lightly.

"I need to understand the situation."

Ian didn't explain but furrowed his brows, continuously checking several different patients—their conditions were exactly the same, even the progression of the illness showed no difference.

What does this mean, that after these patients' bodies wither away, the grooves on the surface of their skin are completely identical, the shape of the grooves in the same places showing no differences across different people.

That's certainly a very eerie circumstance.

"We only know they have seven days left to live, after seven days, they will become something completely inhuman, some unspeakably terrible creature."

"Even Holy Oil cannot slow down this process, forgive my presumptuous words, but I believe even a Master of Magic Potions cannot overcome such a Curse." The female Priest lifted a cloth from a patient's body, exposing the cracked chest, constantly wiping some kind of oily substance on it.

"This patient is already in their last day, about to be completely twisted and transformed by the Curse…" The female Priest's voice was filled with sorrow, she remained in a state of not even looking at the patient's face.

"This appearance…"

Ian approached and touched the so-called late-stage patient.

The familiar texture.

The familiar structure.

His pupils suddenly contracted.

"It's a product of Biological Alchemy!" Yes, Ian had seen such humanoid creatures before, it was at the altar in that Temple before.