Hogwarts Raven

Chapter 336, Section 335: Zeus and Ian.

Night fell.

The ruins of Rhodes Island whispered in the wind.

It seems to still be recording this war that is unknown to future generations.

Amidst the ruins, the air was thick with the scent of dust and blood. In the distance, atop a towering tower, an earth-shattering battle was raging.

Zeus, however, had been secretly observing all of this.

The air suddenly twisted and exploded, like a shattered mirror. A dark figure stepped out of the void, its black dragon-skin boots landing on the shadowy cliff where Zeus had stood.

Ian didn't make a sound.

He approached Zeus.

"Long time no see, Zeus. It seems you also enjoy transforming into a bird. Is it because you're influenced by my Animagus form?" Ian's voice suddenly appeared beside Zeus.

The King of Gods, who only realized what was happening at that moment, turned around and saw the figure he least wanted to see—the one who had left them with terrible psychological trauma before they became gods.

Raven.

The shape resembles a little boy.

Although they themselves were able to find the path to godhood, it was thanks to the example set by this terrifying fellow that the gods found a way to control the laws.

however.

The gods were not grateful to Ian, after all, their sky city was destroyed by Ian, so much so that later they could only find the highest mountain to live on.

The living conditions there were far worse than in the Sky City. Even today, Zeus longs for the beauty of the Sky City, and there are many other beings like him.

"why?"

Upon seeing Ian greet him, the giant eagle that Zeus had transformed into suddenly turned its head, its golden pupils shrinking to the size of pinpoints. Instead of answering Ian's question, it was visibly alarmed.

"you--"

The sound that emerged from the eagle's beak carried the tremor of thunder, yet unusually tinged with a hint of panic. The giant eagle flapped its wings and retreated, its bronze feathers brushing against the surface of the colossus, sending sparks flying.

"What am I."

Ian Prince adjusted his tilted top hat, his wand twirling gracefully between his fingers. He looked down at the divine bird with a wingspan exceeding three zhang.

"You're probably afraid I'll charge you royalties, that's why you don't want to see me. Don't worry, even though you're imitating me turning into a bird, I know you just admire me."

A mischievous glint flashed in his eyes.

"You've come out again," the giant eagle spoke, its voice deep and majestic, carrying an air of supreme divine authority. "I haven't heard your name in a long time."

The god-king did not respond to Ian's question.

Maybe I feel guilty.

“Good morning, Mr. Zeus. Or should I say—good afternoon?” Ian glanced at the blood-red sunset. “Sleeping too long always makes people lose track of time.”

Ian is clearly putting on an act here; he remembers Tytan Lyle's warning and doesn't intend to let Zeus know that he is a time traveler on a time journey.

After all, according to the female Tytan Lyle, the power of the time machine comes from the main god here, and it is the power of the main god that was stolen, so Ian thinks it is better not to expose it.

He enjoys finding fault with others, but that doesn't mean he enjoys being found fault with by others.

"Why did you appear at this time? What do you want?" The giant eagle's neck feathers bristled, each one crackling with blue and white lightning.

Zeus's voice was like muffled thunder.

“I can move around wherever I want.” Ian’s tone was calm, yet it exuded an undeniable power. He rolled his eyes at the giant eagle that Zeus had transformed into.

"You can't control it."

Such disrespectful words would have enraged Zeus if spoken to anyone else, but he couldn't muster any anger in front of Ian.

The best concrete manifestation of being angry but not daring to speak out.

Even though Ian casually dusted off non-existent dust from his cloak, looking utterly disdainful, Zeus fell silent and dared not retaliate.

Zeus still vividly remembered the battle with Ian back then. Even after becoming the king of the gods and leading a group of deities, he dared not act too arrogantly in front of Ian.

after all.

The gods know.

Ian is the end of all things—including the gods. The air froze. The eagle's claws dug deep into the bronze crown, and spiderweb-like cracks appeared on the statue's surface. In the distance, the rumble of collapsing buildings echoed, and the living colossi were wreaking havoc in the harbor, but at this moment, the space above these buildings seemed to have been detached from time.

Finally, Zeus looked away first.

A burst of golden light erupted, and the giant eagle's body twisted and swelled. When the intense light dissipated, standing before Ian was an elderly man in white robes, nearly three meters tall. His long, snow-white beard reached his chest, and lightning scars were hidden in his wrinkles. His white robes appeared simple, but every fiber shimmered with a cloud-like luster, and a belt woven with lightning cinched his waist.

What was most disturbing were his eyes—there were no pupils, only bursts of tiny lightning bolts moving within the whites of his eyes.

“State your purpose, Raven. This world is no longer your playground.” Zeus’s voice was much lower, his knuckles unconsciously rubbing the lightning bolt at his waist.

He wore a pure white robe, its hem fluttering, with a golden thunderbolt embroidered on his chest, symbolizing supreme power. So even though his scalp tingled, he could only grit his teeth and display his authority.

To know.

Now many gods are watching—just like when Zeus first faced Ian. Even though he was afraid, he had to appear tough to maintain his authority.

His authority was already precarious.

His face was handsome but cold.

His brows held the weight and indifference that come with the passage of time. The once spirited and powerful king who ruled over all gods now resembled an old man whose back was bent by the weight of fate.

It is at risk of collapsing at any time.

That's why he used the roaring war god below to establish his authority.

"Don't panic, don't panic, I'm not here to play with you."

Ian pulled a roll of parchment from his inner pocket, gave it a gentle shake, and the roll drooped to his feet. It was covered with strange writing, and some paragraphs were even moving and rearranging themselves.

“I’m looking for a rose that can talk,” Ian said.

Hear the words.

Zeus raised an eyebrow.

"I will have the gods help you find it."

He spoke in a deep voice.

"And the nectar of the night-blooming cereus, and the blood of the god-slayer." Ian pulled out his list, looking at it as he listed what he needed, as if he were simply ordering food.

Zeus's white robes moved without wind.

Ian keenly noticed that when he uttered the last word, the old god-king's left little finger twitched—a gesture that the spirited young god-king of three thousand years ago never made.

"The roses and the nectar, I will have Hermes arrange them." Zeus spoke quickly, as if eager to complete some kind of deal, and he looked at Kratos, the god of war, and the Colossus of Apollo, who were fighting not far away.

“As for the blood of the god-slayer, it’s right there.” He suddenly revealed a sinister smile, and Ian looked in the direction he pointed. Amidst the burning ruins of the tower, a burly man covered in tattoos was fighting a living colossus. Even from this height, one could feel the rage emanating from the man.

His twin blades traced crimson paths, each strike leaving lava-like wounds on the bronze colossus.

"mortal!"

The sound emanating from the statue of the sun god was like rolling thunder.

"How dare you challenge the gods?" It possessed the wisdom bestowed upon it by Zeus, but it wasn't any particularly profound technique; it was merely a variation of shapeshifting.

Kratos sneered, gripping the Blade of Chaos tightly with both hands, its blade gleaming crimson in the darkness. "I am not mortal," he growled. "I am a godslayer! You false gods, who manipulated me, deceived me, betrayed me—now it is my turn to judge you!"

The words have not yet fallen.

He leaped from the tower, his body spinning in the air like a black lightning bolt, hurtling straight for the chest of the sun god statue. The Blade of Chaos slammed into the statue's chest, sparks flying everywhere.

A huge crack spread out instantly.

"Blasphemy!"

The statue of the sun god roared deafeningly, sweeping its palm across Kratos with a scorching wave of air. The god of war barely managed to dodge, but was still struck by the edge of the blast.

He crashed into the ruins below, kicking up clouds of dust.

however.

Before the sun god could continue his pursuit, Kratos burst forth from the rubble, using the broken wall as leverage to propel himself into the air once more. He traced a blood-red arc in the air, his twin blades flashing as he frantically slashed at the statue's face.

"You are nothing but yet another puppet of Zeus!" Kratos roared. "You don't even have your own will, so what right do you have to rule the world?"

The statue of the sun god was enraged, and slammed its scepter into the ground, causing the entire earth to tremble violently and surrounding buildings to collapse. Kratos was thrown into the air by the shockwave.

It crashed heavily onto the stone steps in the distance.

He seemed to be in a coma, and his fate was uncertain.

Witness this scene.

"Kratos?" Ian asked softly.

“Yes.” Zeus nodded, a hint of complexity in his voice. “My son.”

"Heh." Ian's lips curled up slightly as his gaze fell on the figure who was unconscious but whose body was still instinctively trying to get up and slowly shaking its head.

"That's your son, how can you be so cruel?"

to be frank.

Ian didn't really like this kind of family relationship.

Zeus was silent for a moment, then slowly spoke, his voice suddenly becoming like the cold wind of the Arctic: "I have many sons. He is the most disobedient one."

He raised his right hand.

A small, swirling cloud of thunder danced in his palm. "But it's alright, he's dying. Once the colossus crushes his bones, I'll personally collect his blood into an Anfara jar for you."

have to say.

This attitude is indeed cruel.

Ian gazed silently at Zeus. Upon hearing this, he sensed that this Zeus was vastly different from the leader he had seen in ancient times.

Her personality has become colder.

Perhaps this is the price of becoming a god. In ancient times, Ian had seen this king of the gods—Zeus, then full of vigor, ambition, and ideals.

But he was still full of emotion.

The Thunder Lord who once wept for his people now only has cold calculations in his eyes. Beneath his divine radiance lies a soul darker than Hades' River Styx.

"You are such a heartless person."

Ian couldn't help but sigh.

"Uneasy lies the head that wears the crown." Zeus's face contorted for a moment, and the cloud patterns on his white robe suddenly turned into the gray-black of a storm, a manifestation of a cold and emotionless power.

"It's also possible that you were influenced and seduced by the Grim Reaper. Your underworld is built somewhere in a dreamlike realm, isn't it?" Ian looked thoughtfully at the gray-black color of Zeus's body.

About this question.

Zeus did not respond.

"I hope you won't interfere in our family affairs, Raven."

Every word he uttered carried the harbinger of thunder: "Take what you want and leave. This world is fine now; it doesn't need a variable like you."

have to say.

Zeus is indeed becoming a bit too narcissistic.

Before Ian could respond, Zeus's figure exploded into countless golden specks of light. These specks of light reformed in mid-air, coalescing once more into the majestic giant eagle. It gave Ian one last look, its gaze chillingly complex—then, Zeus spread its wings, blotting out the sky, and soared into the clouds where thunderstorms were gathering.

Ian stood on the edge of the shadows.

The strong wind made his cloak flutter loudly.

Not far away, Kratos had just wrapped his chains around the colossus's ankles and was using the momentum to swing up to its knees. The roars of the Spartan warriors even pierced the wind high in the sky.

“Interesting, even Kratos has been brought out.”

Ian muttered to himself.

Organizing my own list.

Besides a rose, a drop of nectar, and a bottle of blood, he actually needed to obtain something else, but he couldn't tell Zeus about it.

"The heart of a god."

Ian didn't know whose heart he should receive, but he knew he needed to make some preparations. He gently closed the list, and his figure began to become transparent. Before disappearing completely, he took one last look at the sky—the giant eagle, the avatar of Zeus, was soaring through the clouds, each flap of its wings unleashing a bolt of lightning.

Further out on the horizon, the outline of a ghost ship could be faintly seen.

It belongs to the wizard.

There are also wizards who record untold history.

Ian watched the story unfold.

Time passed bit by bit.

The twilight in Rhodes was tinged with blood. The setting sun, like molten gold, poured over the harbor torn apart by war, casting a false brilliance upon the shattered shipwrecks, collapsed walls, and corpses strewn across the ground. Kratos stood in the center of the harbor, the Blade of Chaos hanging at his side, drops of blood still wet on its blade blooming into dark red flowers on the stone slabs.

His chest heaved violently, each breath carrying the smell of rust. The corpses of three hundred Rhodes soldiers piled up around him—no, he hadn't killed them. Ever since that damned Zeus drained his divine power and poured it into that abominable sword of Olympus, he had been as weak as a mortal. These soldiers had died...
"My gift, son."

The sound came from above, deep and rumbling like thunder, yet carrying a hissing sound like a venomous snake. Kratos looked up sharply and saw a falcon atop the head of the colossus of Helios, the sun god.

The statue was over a hundred feet tall, its bronze body more majestic than the tallest lighthouse in Rhodes. It wore a radiating crown and held aloft a torch in its right hand, a beacon illuminating the Mediterranean Sea. But now, the torch no longer burned with sacred fire, but with thunder, the thunder of Zeus, as he looked down at Kratos.

The eagle's eyes are golden, and lightning flashes in its pupils.

"Zeus!"

Kratos uttered the name through gritted teeth, as if it were some kind of poison that needed to be chewed up and crushed.

The Blade of Chaos hummed in his hand.

He was all too familiar with that aura—the thunder atop Mount Olympus, the oppressive presence of the King of the Gods.

"Someone wants you dead."

Zeus suddenly spoke.

He really has no sense of martial ethics.

They actually shifted the blame to Ian, who was secretly observing. As the giant eagle transformed back into human form, Kratos looked in the direction Zeus was pointing and saw the little wizard.

(End of this chapter)