Ancient Wizards Return to Hogwarts...

Chapter 498 The Birth of Homelander

The evil spirit's withered body was casually tossed to the ground by Rice.

He treated it like a piece of trash, not even bothering to look at it again.

After dealing with the evil spirit causing trouble in the UK, Rice squatted down in front of the several lumps of blood-red "flesh".

These are not actually chunks of meat, but several people whose skins have been peeled off.

Moreover, judging from their condition, the demon's actions towards them seemed to go beyond simply skinning them; it appeared to have also cut off their tongues and broken their limbs.

"What a twisted sense of humor." Rice was already used to the cruel acts of the evil spirits of the underworld.

After carefully observing the victims for a moment, Rice took out a small bottle of white cinnabar from his pocket, atomized the liquid, and sprayed it evenly on the bodies of the victims.

Immediately, a layer of tender new skin grew on their bodies.

The Muggles sitting nearby stared wide-eyed at Rice's retreating figure in disbelief.

They all thought those people were dead, but unexpectedly, they were saved by this mysterious powerful figure!

That was an injury that cost him the entire body's skin! Modern medicine was helpless against it, but he healed it simply by spraying some medicine on it?

This is simply a miracle!

Some people were so moved that they cried, exclaiming "God bless us!"

Rice frowned and immediately issued a statement clarifying that this had nothing to do with God.

LOL, if you're relying on God, you've already become food for the devil.

Thanks to Dumbledore and modern international law.

Then he began searching for the tongues of these unfortunate men.

"Severed Tongue, Fly Here!" A simple flying spell solved the problem.

Looking at the tongue that had flown into his hand, Rice breathed a sigh of relief: thankfully it hadn't been eaten by the evil spirit, which saved him a lot of trouble.

Next comes the simple follow-up procedure. After a few simple incantations, the wounded lying on the ground regained their health, and their physical injuries would heal completely after a few weeks of rest.

As for the emotional wounds, that's something Rice can't fix.

He can use the Oblivion Charm to erase the memory, but the victims need to speak up first.

More importantly, if their memories are erased, who will praise his greatness?

After treating the wounded, Rice stood up, turned to look at the passengers in the cabin, and gave them a bright smile.

"Alright, they're out of danger now. They'll be taken to the hospital to rest for a while and make a full recovery—hopefully they have medical insurance."

A humorous joke eased the tense atmosphere in the cabin and brought Rice and the passengers closer together.

"May I ask who you are? Are you sent by God to save us?" a bold passenger asked.

Rice's lips twitched, and he almost couldn't hold back his laughter.

Please, why haven't you grasped the situation yet? Gods who have returned from the underworld are inherently opposed to mortals; only wizards can save you!

However, he quickly adjusted his mindset. The religious atmosphere in Britain is very strong, and it is normal for them not to see through the true face of God for a while.

"I am a wizard," Rice declared loudly. "What brought me here was not God, but justice and law!"

The Muggles blinked.

Wizards? In stereotypes, wizards should be associated with demons, right?

When they prayed to the gods for help, a wizard answered them.

Oh no! Will they be the ones to pay the price next? After all, those wizards in bedtime stories are all greedy villains...

So someone cautiously asked.

"The price?" Rice's face showed surprise. "What are you going to do?"

Looking at the demon's corpse on the ground, he seemed to suddenly understand the other party's problem.

"It's free, no money required. These evil spirits of the underworld are people everyone should kill, so why would we need money? With great power comes great responsibility!" Rice laughed heartily.

Hearing Rice's laughter, everyone present felt a little uncomfortable.

They seem to have truly misunderstood this young man with a noble soul.

"You may not believe in God, but I will pray for you and hope that everything will go well for you in the future," an old woman whispered, her gratitude towards Rice evident in her words.

Many passengers nodded in agreement; they would probably never forget this sunny and cheerful young man.

They will never forget that a wizard saved their lives without asking for anything in return.

Even the saints in the scriptures do not possess such noble virtues.

"The monster is dealt with, and I should go now—I have other things to do." Rice shrugged, looking relaxed, but anyone with eyes could see the weariness in the corner of his eyes.

Yes, it's a turbulent time, and this young man must be under immense pressure.

He carried the weight of all 123 counties across the four administrative regions of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland!

Many passengers had tears in their eyes.

"Have a safe journey," Rice said as he walked to the plane door. Just as he touched it, he seemed to remember something and turned to the passengers, saying, "Oh, and one more thing. Although I am not very capable, there is one thing I can guarantee: the UK is safe. If there is an emergency, just come back."

One of the passengers couldn't hold back any longer. A man with a handheld camera stood up from his seat in the back and loudly asked, "Hello, I'm a reporter from the Daily Mail. May I interview you?"

Rice hesitated for a moment, then shook his head.

"Now is not the time for an interview. Maybe next time, I promise." Rice raised his hand, pointed at him with a rather dashing air, then pushed open the hatch with great flair and flew out in a flash.

Before the gust of wind could even get in, the plane's cabin door closed again, leaving a cabin full of passengers staring at each other.

The reporter stood there stunned, finally managing only a wry smile: "At least tell me your name..."

"Mommy, he looks like a superhero from a comic book!" Not long after Rice left, a childish voice rang out in the cabin. It was a little boy talking to his mother.

Originating in the 1940s, superhero comics now have a huge number of fans worldwide. Rice's every move is almost perfectly in line with superheroes, which naturally makes children make similar associations.

"Yes, just like Superman!" Mom chimed in. "You should learn from him."

"Nonsense, it's clearly Captain America—" another boy's voice chimed in.

"But with great power comes great responsibility, that's Spider-Man's famous quote..." The children started arguing heatedly, while the reporter's eyes lit up.

He remembered that the man seemed to value the concept of "Britain" very much, which meant he must have cared a lot about his homeland and hometown.

He instinctively wrote the word "Homeland" in his notebook, then after a moment's thought, added an "er" to the end, and a brand new word was born.

Homelander

Homelander

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.

First update delivered, second update coming soon.

(End of this chapter)