Ancient Wizards Return to Hogwarts...

Chapter 482 King's Cross Station and the Journey to the Unknown

Salazar Slytherin is dead.

Loki scoffed as he looked at the corpse he had thrown to the ground.

After killing his enemy, he did not feel the satisfaction of avenging his great grudge.

For the past thousand years, he had always fantasized about encountering those four again, and how he would react after defeating them. But when it actually happened, he found himself experiencing feelings he had never anticipated.

This feeling is very complex and hard to describe in words; it's probably a combination of anger and disappointment.

After careful consideration, Loki concluded that the root cause was that Salazar Slytherin was already severely injured when he encountered him, yet even in his weakened state, he still inflicted considerable damage on Loki.

This state of not being able to find anything worthwhile is as disgusting as finding a fly in your food.

"Why can't you just behave yourself!" He kicked the charred lumps on the ground a few times as if venting his anger.

After a few minutes, Loki finally vented his anger and calmed down.

No matter what, I still won in the end!

After a thousand years, he finally took revenge on the wizards on behalf of the gods! Slytherin finally paid the blood debt he owed back then.

Furthermore, the fact that Salazar Slytherin was successfully intercepted and killed at Hogwarts tonight also means another piece of good news: his three wizarding friends are most likely dead.

Gryffindor, needless to say, was the most thoroughly dead of the four. Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff were nowhere to be found, but judging from the Slytherin's isolated and helpless state, they were clearly also dead, or perhaps in dire condition, completely unable to come to their good friend's aid.

Slytherin was so badly injured because he was cleaning up the mess left by his old friends. Loki had asked Salazar during the battle why he was in this state, and Salazar refused to answer, but Loki could deduce it himself.

The arena was originally left behind by Ravenclaw and her allies, but in recent years it had fallen into disrepair and was on the verge of going out of control. Salazar paid a heavy price to bring it back under his control.

After making some deductions based on the available information, Loki felt refreshed.

Wizards, though powerful, ultimately could not withstand the ravages of time. In this respect, the gods were far superior.

And the tremors in my blood during our initial exchange...

While reviewing the battle, Loki noticed that Slytherin's methods were the same as those used by the Mysterio who had beaten Voldemort in the Quidditch World Cup finals.

This means that the wizard who had been causing trouble was none other than Slytherin. And now, he's dead, and no one can stop his plans anymore. Loki never took Dumbledore seriously—he wasn't even worthy of fighting him directly; Voldemort could handle him.

Even Loki, who was used to all sorts of things, couldn't help but feel excited at this moment, as if his prank was about to come true.

He looked again at Slytherin's mangled body on the ground. After a quick search, he found that Slytherin had taken nothing with him, seemingly having a premonition of his death.

"Hmph, you think you can escape like this?" Loki sneered. "The bodies of you wizards are also rare treasures!"

He bent down and chopped off Slytherin's head.

"When you used my stupid brother's body as an alchemical tool, you certainly didn't expect this day to come!" Loki laughed hysterically.

He tucked Salazar's head into his pocket, shut down the protective barrier, and returned to Hogwarts.

From beginning to end, no one interfered with his actions. The vast Hogwarts was brightly lit, and the common room was filled with laughter, yet it felt as if no one was there.

Loki had only taken two steps toward the foot of the Astronomy Tower when he suddenly stopped.

He narrowed his eyes, quickly returned to the rooftop, and instantly spotted a small snake in the shadows.

Upon seeing the little snake, Loki sneered: As expected of a Slytherin, even on the verge of death, he still tried to pass on information, but in the end, I was one step ahead.

More importantly, even if Dumbledore knew this information, he wouldn't be a match for him. He could completely crush him!

Loki stomped the snake into a bloody pulp.

The words "Dumbledore" and "Be careful" could be faintly heard in the air, but they all disappeared when the evening wind blew.

In Helga's office, Helga and Rowena were sitting face to face.

Suddenly, the two of them looked up at the same time, vaguely sensing something.

Salazar is dead.

"yes……"

Even though they had a premonition, the two still couldn't help but sigh.

……

"This is..." Rice squinted, taking in the scenery before him, "King's Cross Station?"

After realizing his location, Rice was confused: Wasn't he just fighting the remnants of the Norse gods? How did he end up here? Was it Loki's scheme?

Rice knew some spells could instantly teleport someone to another location, but Hogwarts was surrounded by protective magic. Was Loki really not worried about alerting Dumbledore? However, Dumbledore was also a fire-based magic user, which Loki was vulnerable to.

Wait!

Rice suddenly realized something; he found the last moment of his memory in his mind.

It turns out I am already dead. This is the place where every wizard arrives after death; it is the territory of the Grim Reaper.

Although he had anticipated it, and even though he had deliberately planned his own death, Rice still couldn't help but feel a sense of loss. Perhaps deep down, in his subconscious without even realizing it, he still felt that he had a chance to fight back.

After a brief period of disappointment, Rice quickly rallied, realizing that he had entered a completely new realm.

Now he was truly far ahead of his three old friends. That is, assuming his experiment, which could only be done once, succeeded.

He looked around and found that this place was exactly the same as the King's Cross Station in his memory, except that the platforms were empty and the tracks in the distance were swallowed up by white mist.

The entire station was deserted, and even the legendary Grim Reaper, who supposedly controlled the comings and goings of people, was nowhere to be seen.

Rice looked down and was shocked to find that his hands were covered with dense scales. When he looked behind him, he found that his legs had disappeared and turned into a snake's tail.

He touched his cheek and found that it was indeed covered with scales.

So what's being presented here is the form of his own soul? A realization dawned on Rice; he felt it made a lot of sense.

If I were to choose to become a ghost now, my appearance would be terrifying even among ghosts.

After swimming forward a couple of steps, Rice found that he was quite used to his half-snake body. If he hadn't looked down, he wouldn't have noticed the changes in his body.

After wandering aimlessly for a few steps, Rice fell into thought: what should he do next?

Rice was stumped by the question. He found a chair, sat down, and began to think about it seriously.

There is no precedent to follow in this field; it all depends on one's own exploration—Godrick's description of the situation is too far removed from the present and has no reference value whatsoever.

After thinking for a while, Rice's thoughts began to drift away, and his mind was unusually clear.

After an unknown amount of time, the sound of a train whistle snapped Rice out of her daze and brought her back to reality.

Rice saw a train emerge from the mist in the distance and pull up beside the King's Cross station platform.

With a creak, the train carriage doors slid open automatically.

A hunch arose in Rice's mind.

Driven by intuition, he boarded the train.

The carriage was empty, completely deserted.

Before he could even begin to explore, Rice heard another whistle from the front of the train. After the whistle sounded, the train didn't start immediately, but instead remained stopped on the platform with its doors open for another minute, as if giving the passengers on board a chance to change their minds about getting off, or as if giving the people on the platform one last chance to board the train.

A minute later, the doors slowly closed, the train shuddered, and began to move slowly.

Rice moved closer to the train door and stared at King's Cross Station.

As the train accelerated, the station was gradually left behind, and it entered the thick white fog. Rice's vision was obscured by the fog, and soon the station could no longer be seen.

Rice suddenly realized a chilling question: if the forms of the people arriving at the station were the postures of souls, then what about the wizards who created Horcruxes…?

They must be disabled, right?

Will they actually be able to board the train? If they fail to board within the allotted time, will the train return after it departs?

So that's why the wizards who create Horcruxes can't reincarnate. Rice felt as if he had gained valuable new knowledge.

In the past, I only knew what happened but not why it happened; now, I can explain the underlying principles clearly.

The wizard who created the Horcrux will not truly die unless it is destroyed.

But when the Horcruxes are destroyed and they truly die, their souls that arrive in the Interval are incomplete. Such souls cannot board the train of reincarnation and can only be trapped here, becoming nourishment for the Interval.

The train was now moving at full speed.

Rice walked around the corridor and found that the train was completely empty, with no driver in the cab at the front. The train was completely "driverless".

"The science fiction fantasies of Muggles have been realized here," Rice muttered, then thought of the clumsy spell invented by Rowena.

He found a seat and sat down, looking out at the white world outside the car window.

"Muggle myths say that after death, people either go to heaven or hell—look at this white mist, am I going to heaven?" Rice was amused by his own joke.

If someone like him can go to heaven, it only proves one thing: Godric Gryffindor opened a shared account for himself in heaven, sharing a portion of his merits with himself.

After lost in thought for a while, Rice noticed some white mist beginning to seep in from the gaps between the train carriages.

Rice felt that the white mist didn't seem like a good thing, and subconsciously felt a bit repulsed by it.

Sure enough, as soon as the mist came into contact with his skin, wisps of white smoke began to rise from his scales, making it seem as if he had become part of the mist.

However, the process was not painful at all; on the contrary, it felt like taking a refreshing shower in the summer.

Rice: !

His first instinct was to expel the fog and seal the carriage. But when he was about to do it, Rice realized he seemed to have lost the ability to cast spells.

"Now I can truly empathize with Voldemort." Rhys gave a wry smile, experiencing for the first time Voldemort's feelings when his magical abilities were disabled.

However, since the scales on its body are quite sturdy, the white mist can't harm it for the time being.

"Huh?" Looking at the white mist that was eroding his body, Rice suddenly realized something.

A thousand years ago, there was a world of the dead, but some of the dead would be reincarnated while others would fall into the underworld. What was the difference? Or, to put it another way, did this train have an end?

Thinking of this, Rice immediately got up and opened the carriage window completely.

A cloud of white mist suddenly rushed in, filling the private room.

Rice was completely immersed in the mist, letting it corrode his scales. Worried about running out of time, he even started tearing off the scales from his body.

If given a choice, Rice would definitely choose reincarnation; if she fell into the underworld, she truly didn't know when she would regain her freedom.

Rice acted decisively. By the time he felt the train begin to slow down, he had almost become one with the white mist, and Rice's consciousness gradually blurred.

"Luckily, I was one step ahead." Rice thought to himself before his consciousness completely faded.

The white fog had already engulfed the train, but it did not stop the train from continuing to move forward.

Finally, the train emerged from the fog and entered a new station. By then, the white fog inside the carriages had completely dissipated.

Unlike King's Cross Station, this new platform has staff, but these people all look somewhat unusual.

A train conductor, dressed in a uniform and standing like a human but with three dog heads, boarded the train and carefully surveyed the carriages.

He didn't miss any corner. During the search, the three heads and six eyes were wide open, and the three noses were twitching. It was clear that he was using a two-pronged approach and would not miss anything.

A voice came from outside the car.

"Cerberus, search carefully. If you miss anyone, neither of us can bear the responsibility!"

"Okay," the three-headed dog muttered irritably, "Too much nonsense!"

I have three heads! How could I possibly miss anyone?

At the same time, a streak of light flashed through the white mist outside the station, heading towards the world of the living in the distance.

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

Update delivered, goodnight~

The next update will be at midnight tomorrow night.

(End of this chapter)