Hogwarts Raven

Chapter 366, Section 365: Knowledge, Filling the Brain!

The memory palace is the signature technique of the great detective Sherlock Holmes.

It is a highly systematic and visual method of memory and thought organization used by Sherlock Holmes, the protagonist of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's detective novels.

The "memory palace" is essentially a mnemonic technique, formally known as the "method of loci," originating in ancient Greece and Rome. This method helps the brain store and retrieve information more efficiently by visually associating the information to be memorized with specific locations within a familiar spatial environment.

In Holmes's context, the "memory palace" is described as a virtual space existing in his mind—a vast, orderly, and clearly structured "mental architecture." He "stores" all the details he observes, reasoning processes, case clues, scientific knowledge, past cases, etc., like objects, in different rooms, bookshelves, drawers, or corridors of this palace, and when needed, he "walks" into the corresponding location to quickly retrieve the required information.

Although the term "memory palace" does not appear directly in Conan Doyle's original works, its core concept is deeply rooted in Holmes's way of thinking and cognitive skills.

Ian was also a Sherlock Holmes fan, and because of this, after gaining the ability to create magic, he used magic to replicate his memory palace.

This isn't exactly a sophisticated spell, but it's definitely a very practical one. Currently, he's also promoting this learning skill on a small scale in Hogwarts' small classrooms.

of course.

While this was minor magic for Ian, the memory palace magic still presented a learning curve for most Hogwarts students.

However, this did not prevent Ian, who had mastered his self-created magic, from absorbing knowledge of the era in the ancient Egyptian Great Library, specifically in the floors reserved for wizards and priests.

Many of these documents from this era have been lost to later generations, making them rare gems. Ian certainly didn't want to miss this opportunity. He wanted to take advantage of this opportunity to start mass-producing copies using his memory, and then use magic to condense them into real books later when he returned to the future.

“I need to learn this. Hmm, that looks pretty good too. Ancient magic isn’t without its merits.” Purple flames flickered silently in the bronze lamp, casting Ian’s shadow on the curved wall, forming a distorted silhouette. He knelt on the stone platform at the deepest part of the forbidden book section.

Dozens of ancient papyrus scrolls floated around the room, opening automatically.

Each page radiated a pale golden magical glow.

The air was filled with the ancient scent of aged ink mixed with cedar resin, interspersed with a certain fragrance—knowledge has a special aroma to the noses of geniuses in the magical world.

He first perused forbidden texts such as *The Art of Divine Grafting*, *The Guide to Cultivating Artificial Gods*, and *Nineteen Methods of Extracting Solar Essence*. These books not only documented how to combine the power of mortals with that of gods but also detailed how to create beings with divine power through rituals and alchemy. However, as he delved deeper into his reading, Ian realized that while this knowledge was powerful, the risks and moral dilemmas it contained were equally immense. They were not merely technological explorations but touched upon core questions about the nature of life and the laws of the universe.

Besides these eye-catching forbidden books, Ian also developed a strong interest in orthodox ancient magic books. For example, there was an ancient book called "The Power of the Stars: The Origins of Divination," which systematically introduced the entire process of divination from its birth to its development and contained a large number of divination methods that had been almost completely lost in later generations.

The book mentions that the earliest diviners did not rely on simple symbols or tools, but rather predicted the future by observing subtle changes in nature—such as changes in wind direction, animal behavior patterns, and even the growth of plants. This is quite different from the tarot card or crystal ball divination commonly found in modern divination, and is much closer to the true state of nature.

Ancient magic also has its unique aspects.

“Because I possess super intelligence, my memory palace has a vast storage capacity, so I don’t have to worry about running out at all,” Ian muttered to himself, the silvery-white light in his eyes intensifying. The Heliopolis Astrological Scroll, suspended in front of him, was turning its pages at an astonishing speed, and the constellation charts drawn with gold powder and cinnabar flowed into his consciousness like a stream.

This is not a simple visual memory, but an imprint along with the magical understanding that the artist infused into the brushstrokes—Ian also used the "soul writing" technique, which had been lost to the wizarding world for a long time, in the memory palace magic. This was ancient knowledge that he learned from wizards in ancient Greece.

In fact.

The magic of the ancients was not entirely useless. Just like the mortise and tenon structure of architecture in the Muggle world, some things remain brilliant crystallizations even as times change.

"Such as this..."

A thick book bound in alligator skin to Ian's left suddenly popped open automatically, revealing hieroglyphs on its inner pages that shimmered with blue light. Chapter Thirteen of the "Complete Alchemy of the Nile" detailed the method of solidifying moonlight into crystals, a technique deemed impossible in the 18th century, which was now being shown to Ian in every detail without reservation.

"Collecting river water on the night of the full moon, distilling it in a magnetite crucible, and finally adding water lily oil to set it." As Ian learned, he also gained insight into the lost and unreplicable crystallization of civilization. This knowledge had long been lost to the river of time in later generations, and even the forbidden library at Hogwarts only had fragmented records left.

Can be imagined.

Whether it's a Muggle civilization or a wizarding civilization, the people who drive the development of civilization are always a small group, and once these people disappear, their achievements are difficult for future generations to replicate.

“Fortunately, I’m learning for the sake of civilization now, so how can this not be considered a good deed?” Ian’s wand quickly traced memory aid runes on the parchment.

A clay tablet with a dark red cover floated in front of him, and the cuneiform script on it automatically rearranged into ancient Egyptian that Ian could understand—"The Art of Transforming Flesh and Bronze".

This is the ultimate secret of the legendary alchemy of life.

Ian is a tireless learner.

Another book that caught his attention was "The Language of the Elemental Spirits," which explores how to communicate with the spirits corresponding to the four basic elements of nature (earth, water, fire, and wind).

Unlike spells that directly manipulate elemental forces, this book emphasizes a mode of communication based on understanding and respect. It states, "To gain the power of the spirits, one must first listen to their voices."

This means that to truly master elemental magic, one must learn to listen to the sounds from the depths of the earth, the ocean waves, the flickering flames, and the flow of the air. This philosophy paints a peaceful path; perhaps true magic is not about controlling power, but rather a way of living in harmony with the world.

“I won’t learn this myself, but I can let other young wizards learn it, so they can take a step further on the path of magic.” Ian puts almost every interesting book he comes across into his memory palace.

The library certainly has anti-theft measures in place, but Ian is clearly a cut above the rest.

The magic detection mechanism in the forbidden library was still functioning. Every seven minutes, a green light would sweep across the cat's-eye stone embedded in the ceiling, and any unauthorized copying would trigger a deadly spell. Ian had to maintain a delicate balance in his memory magic—deep enough to preserve the essence of the knowledge, yet without generating noticeable magical fluctuations.

Ancient alchemy is also fascinating.

Next, he picked up a thick book, *The Complete Treatise on Ancient Alchemy*. This book not only meticulously recorded various alchemical recipes and their preparation steps but also included extensive theoretical explanations of the principles of matter transformation. It introduced a magical liquid called "Eternal Water," said to be able to keep anything that came into contact with it unchanged for hundreds of years. However, preparing this liquid required extremely complex procedures and rare materials, including dew collected from specific celestial bodies, the essence of the heartwood from ancient trees, and specially treated pure metal powder. As Ian read, he marveled at how the ancient alchemists' understanding of the nature of matter far exceeded the comprehension of modern people.

The wisdom of these ancient people is like the brightest star in the night sky, guiding later generations to continuously explore the unknown.

"I need to learn faster."

Ian glanced at the water clock in the corner; the buoy indicated that sunset was less than two hours away. To his right, three ancient scrolls on "prophecy and destiny" were being unfurled simultaneously—a realm completely beyond the reach of modern divination—the primitive technique of directly observing the "threads of fate" without relying on tea leaves or crystal balls.

It was very primitive, but it could obtain more secretive information than later divination methods. The "Nine Stars Alignment Observation Method" recorded in it could even predict the manner of death of a specific individual, accurate to the hour and direction.

"Alchemy is still more sophisticated. These things like divination give me a headache. Maybe Aurora would like this kind of knowledge."

Ian's only weakness at Hogwarts was divination, and this wouldn't change just because he traveled to ancient times. He was completely overwhelmed by the knowledge of divination.

So he simply forced himself to memorize it, and then focused all his energy on his favorite alchemy, which included many attempts to forge life in ancient alchemy.

There are also other strange and unusual development directions—time flies by while learning.

soon.

it's dark.

Ian gently closed the last scroll of papyrus, which shimmered with gold, and the lingering magical warmth on his fingertips made him sigh softly.

These ancient words surged in his mind, like the fertile black soil when the Nile River overflowed, nurturing countless magical secrets that have been lost to later generations.

The celestial magic recorded in "The Heliopolis Celestial Ritual", the metal transformation techniques described in "The Alchemy of Thebes", and the detailed prophetic system in "The Desert Dream".

Countless precious pieces of knowledge are now deeply imprinted in his memory palace.

"What an incredible magical realm."

Ian was still somewhat unsatisfied.

The day's harvest far exceeded expectations. Not only did they find key records about artificial gods, but they also unexpectedly discovered many ancient magic systems that were not even included in the Hogwarts Forbidden Books.

A clay tablet detailing "bone and blood divination" particularly shocked him. This extreme technique, which temporarily removed one's own bones to use as a medium for divination, had long been considered unforgivable black magic in later generations. Just as Ian was organizing his materials, preparing to find the answers to his questions and then secretly return to this place...

The purple torch in the restricted book section suddenly flickered, and the light dimmed. Ian looked up and saw that the hunched old librarian had somehow appeared on the edge of the stone platform.

Seven-colored silk threads were wrapped around the other person's withered fingers.

"Your Excellency, the sun has already touched the western mountains." The old man's voice was much more respectful than before, and an unusual light flickered in his cloudy eyes. "According to regulations, the library will soon be closing. However..."

He paused meaningfully.

"A distinguished guest like yourself may continue to study here, as long as you leave quietly." This was clearly an attempt to win over Ian, or rather, to curry favor with Ian, this "messenger."

Privilege is always so obvious in any era.

“Rules are rules.” Ian stood up, his black robes flowing like water in the purple firelight. “Even the High Priest must abide by these rules; how can I be an exception?”

His tone was solemn and sincere, but his fingers discreetly drew a magical mark on his waist tag for future reference—a little trick he had just learned from the "Priestly Ritual." After being embellished by some legendary wizards, it was so well-hidden that even the librarian couldn't detect anything amiss.

"Your integrity is truly admirable." The old man's expression softened noticeably, and a genuine admiration appeared between his wrinkles. After all, in this era, very few people would refuse privileges. He made a complex gesture, and the suspended documents automatically returned to their positions. The bookshelf moved slowly as if it were alive, clearing a path to the exit.

"May the light of God Ra shine upon you forever."

The old man bowed slightly.

"May the light of knowledge never be extinguished." Ian replied with his standard farewell, and as he stepped out of the bronze doors of the library, the evening breeze, carrying the unique moist scent of the Nile, rushed towards him.

"Sure enough, once night falls, it's like entering another city, devoid of any vibrancy." Ian took a deep breath, surprised to find the air filled with the pungent smell of burning metal. The last rays of the setting sun were fading on the horizon, and the entire city of Memphis had already fallen into a deathly silence.

The streets were eerily deserted. The bustling market of evening was now devoid of even a stray cat. The wooden doors of the shops were tightly shut, some even reinforced with thick iron chains. The echo of Ian's boots on the cobblestones sounded particularly jarring in the silence.

“Earlier than yesterday.” Ian frowned, surveying his surroundings. Yesterday’s curfew was at least after sunset, but today, the entire city had already shut itself down before dusk was even over. The sky in the direction of the temple in the distance was an unnatural purplish-red, as if someone had smeared the clouds with a blood-stained brush.

Clearly, the bodies the temple had taken away during the day had caused some panic among the people. Ian walked along the main street towards the temple, his wand ready to slide out of his sleeve at any moment. As he rounded a corner, he suddenly caught something moving in the alley to his right—a blurry figure was quickly moving along the wall.

"Another reckless daredevil?" Ian followed quietly. In the fading light of dawn, he could make out a thin figure draped in a coarse cloth cloak, moving with the agility of a desert fox. The man would stop every ten steps or so, leaving some kind of mark on the corners of the residents' walls or doorframes.

Sneaky and secretive.

He doesn't look like a good person at all.

(End of this chapter)