allendalepharm Chapter 145 Chasing That Faint Glimmer of Light
Chapter 145 Chasing That Faint Glimmer of Light
Chapter 145 Chasing After That Faint Glimmer of Light
The wind howled, as if the whole world was spinning and tumbling, and everything in sight was distorted.
A powerful repulsive force erupted, as if the whole world was stretching out, making every step Lockhart and Snape take forward incredibly difficult.
But it was precisely this difficulty that made them realize that the soup might actually have been successfully prepared.
I don't know how long I walked, but suddenly, the repulsive force intensified, the surrounding gale and dizziness vanished, and my entire field of vision darkened.
Looking around, everything was shrouded in darkness and could not be seen clearly.
The creaking of the window sashes echoed in the deathly silent office, while a faint tapping sound came from the corridor outside the door, sending a chilling panic through the room.
This is……
The power of the vicious werewolf?
Lockhart suddenly realized something and turned to Snape, "What on earth is this potion you've made...?"
Before he could finish speaking, he suddenly realized that there was no one beside him at all.
"!!!"
He twitched his nose, vaguely smelling a strange, foul stench.
Looking up and around, I quickly noticed that the fruit plate on the table was rapidly rotting and decaying, with clumps of colorful mold quickly puffing up.
All life seemed to be rapidly fading away.
His hand, which held the wand aloft, visibly turned pale, and his skin wrinkled, as if he had aged many years in an instant.
My jaw was itchy, so I reached out and scratched it with my other hand. I discovered that I didn't know when I had grown a long beard. When I picked it up, I saw that many of the beard hairs had already started to turn white.
"Ha~"
"interesting!"
Lockhart laughed, his gaze intently savoring the unique magical surge accompanying each change around him, murmuring in amazement, "Is this the power of time?"
He continued walking forward with some eagerness, but it was difficult because he found that his lumbar spine was starting to ache, and his legs were no longer strong, trembling as if they were about to fall at any moment.
But this didn't stump him.
He simply closed his eyes, held his breath, and ignored the chilling sensation in his body and the clamor in the deathly silence around him. He focused all his attention on the magic within his body.
That magic was so full of life, carrying the power of the sky, clouds, moonlight, forests and earth, surging with thunder and fire, a vibrant life completely different from the broken body.
"This is the real thing!"
Lockhart murmured, gently waving his wand. His body radiated a silver light, and he let the power carry him forward.
After walking for an unknown amount of time, as if we had climbed one high mountain after another, we finally emerged from the gloomy clouds, and the warm sunlight once again shone on our faces.
Lockhart opened his eyes and found himself back in his real office, only a meter away from the magical cauldron.
Sunlight streamed in through the window, illuminating his healthy, youthful skin with a warm glow.
Only the rotten and moldy fruit in the fruit bowl on the desk clearly told him that what had just happened was not simply an illusion.
If he hadn't come out of that mess, he would have definitely turned into an old man on that long journey, wasting countless years of his life.
"This potion is really powerful!"
Lockhart clicked his tongue and suddenly saw a large amount of steam rising from the crucible, and the bubbling soup was emitting bursts of colorful light.
For a fleeting moment, he felt as if he were that crucible, with countless dazzling colors bursting forth from his heart.
That was ecstasy, ecstasy because of time travel.
That was hesitation, hesitation stemming from loneliness.
That was joy, joy because of companionship.
That is joy, joy comes from understanding one's own path.
It was anger and bewilderment. The anger stemmed from being deeply mired in the quagmire of Voldemort's hostility, and the bewilderment from the entanglements of life.
That was everything in my heart, a mixture of sweet, sour, bitter, spicy, and salty flavors, surging and turbulent.
So every step on the path to the soul is like a question to one's own soul, asking—Hey buddy, are we going to keep going?
Need I say more?
He quickly reached the cauldron, and looking back, he saw Snape gripping his wand tightly, looking at the cauldron with some resentment, struggling to move forward.
At this moment, Lockhart said nothing more, but just smiled and looked at the old man with faltering steps, waiting for his friend to arrive.
He knows.
He knew it.
Old Si was a man whose heart was always filled with resentment and bitterness; he was by no means someone who was content with the status quo.
This thing just needs a push.
Being passively pushed forward is one kind of push, and being pushed outward by strong pressure is also one kind of push.
This proud guy can tolerate being pushed away? Ha, what a joke!
Isn't the human heart sometimes so interesting? Being passive and being proactive are actually the same mindset. Sometimes, behavior doesn't necessarily represent the choices of the heart, but rather the influence of the environment.
Lockhart simply waited quietly, his head bowed with interest as he observed the potion in the crucible, which seemed almost alive.
A life out of control?
Penetrating the very roots of life, touching the realm of time?
How amazing!
He could clearly feel that this potion had interrogated his heart three times before he was finally able to get close to it. Each interrogation was so dangerous that the slightest carelessness would lead to the collapse of his vitality, the tearing apart of his soul, and self-denial.
"Severus, you've really come up with something incredible."
He sighed.
"Yes, it is amazing." Snape finally came to the cauldron and silently looked at it. He looked pale, clearly having gone through a lot of inner struggle when he faced some spiritual questions.
Lockhart wouldn't laugh at him for that, or think he was better than Old Spielberg.
His spiritual fulfillment stemmed not only from his unwavering will to pursue magic, but also from the fact that his life experiences were not particularly painful.
Old Si was troubled by love, unable to obtain what he desired. This was a flaw in his soul, but also a rich part of his life.
No one can say for sure that this isn't bad.
Life always involves experiencing things that allow those dark or bright colors to fall onto the canvas of life, leaving traces of the journey.
"What's next?" Lockhart asked curiously.
"Wait!" Snape looked at the cauldron with some wariness. "All the magical changes and mental power we've generated on our way here have become nourishment for this potion. It needs a process of transformation."
Lockhart exclaimed "Wow!" He hadn't expected that mixing potions would have such an interesting twist.
Oh, right, the "Mischievous Brain" potion that Snape made for him before required traces of his life's journey as ingredients, which seems to follow the same line of thought.
They didn't have to wait long.
Suddenly, all the potion in the cauldron evaporated, turning into a strange, viscous substance that swirled in mid-air, expanding irregularly as if it had filled the entire office, before instantly collapsing into a small ball, breathing in and out with eerie clamor.
Finally, the potion stabilized completely, turning into a thick black, so black that it seemed to have lost all color and become ethereal.
bang~
It exploded instantly, transforming into a swirling vortex two meters high.
Lockhart reached out and gently touched the vortex, only to find that his fingers went straight in without touching any liquid or other texture.
"Let's keep going."
Snape quickly made his judgment. His wizard robes billowed as he strode toward the vortex, his figure disappearing into it in an instant.
Lockhart, of course, did not hesitate and followed them inside.
Glug glug~
The black vortex trembled rapidly, and as the two entered, it shimmered with different colors. The rotten mold in the fruit bowl on the nearby desk was suddenly pushed open, and a lush green shoot quickly grew out, extending upwards, stretching its branches and leaves, and blooming with flowers.
"I was just about to ask you..."
Lockhart followed behind Snape, staring at the seemingly endless darkness before him. "Is this potion really a way to undo mistakes?"
Snape paused, then asked, "What do you mean?"
"I just sensed the magical properties of this potion through my wand, and it's clearly aimed at the mind!" Lockhart followed behind, his steps uneven, as if he were stepping on a giant piece of chewing gum. "I don't understand the magic of time, but I have indeed studied the properties of magic."
"Targeting the mind, the body, the bloodline, society, and the environment..."
He shook his head. "It's absolutely different. If you're talking about undoing something, and you really want to change things, then you should be targeting 'society,' or you could describe it as a change in the material reality of the collective will."
"But I can tell it's only targeting the mind, man. This potion doesn't smell right."
"It's not just going to deceive you and then make up for your regret, is it?"
He didn't really understand the mysterious fields of potions and time, but he had a very profound understanding of the nature of magic, from his initial state as the "Family of the Forest" to the clues he received from the wand after being taken to Professor Kettleburn by the Dragon Cave Rabbit, as well as his research on blood magic.
Snape's brow furrowed deeply. "I've been researching potions of regret for over a decade, and I've never actually succeeded. I finally witnessed a miraculous transformation, passed the test, and now you're telling me this potion is useless?"
Lockhart shrugged. "Fate can be so cruel sometimes, it's normal."
Snape's gaze darkened once more.
He pursed his lips and remained silent for a long time, his gaze lingering on the faint light at the end of the dark passage.
It was the only glimmer of light in the darkness.
"You should leave. I'm not sure what this potion will bring us either." His voice was deep. "I can't give up even the slightest hope. I have to keep going."
As he spoke, a bitter smile appeared on his face. "Just like you said, adventure is never a pre-arranged stage play. Adventure does not necessarily have a good outcome, but only with unwavering will and courage to embark on the adventure can one wait for the magic to bloom."
"I……"
His expression hardened. "I'm willing to pay any price, even if I end up with nothing! Even if I lose everything in the process!"
He only hoped for that tiny, even insignificant, chance.
Without further hesitation, he continued walking forward, chasing after that wisp of ethereal light.
(End of this chapter)