The Wind and the Wings of Hogwarts

Of course, it's not that straightforward; it requires some wordplay and a certain amount of calculation to arrive at the answer.

Scott hadn't had time to calculate those two coordinates yet.

Now, he is about to begin this work.

With the help of arithmetic divination, this word game and calculation were no challenge for Scott, and he quickly got the answer.

But he was stunned when he saw the answer.

At the same time, a storm raged through his mind.

"Scott!"

"Scott!"

"Hey!"

"what happened to you?"

Scott remained stunned for quite some time, long enough for Rimbaud to notice and keep calling his name.

"What exactly happened?"

"I can't help but doubt everything now..."

Scott, regaining his senses, looked very unwell.

"So, what exactly happened?" Rimbaud asked again.

"These two coordinates..."

Scott looked at his own notes on the parchment.

"Actually, I already had it a long time ago."

"What?" Rimbaud looked up in astonishment.

"Do you remember, [Reis Map] and [Sailor's Astronomical Chart]?"

Scott began to speak with some difficulty.

"The two coordinates I just calculated, one coincides with the coordinates I got from the [Sailor's Astronomical Chart], and the other coordinate is exactly on Antarctica in the [Reis Map]."

"What do you mean?" Rimbaud froze.

Do you think this is a coincidence?

Scott reached out and rubbed his temples.

"If this is a coincidence, then it is too much of a coincidence."

Although the [Reis Map] came from his great-grandfather, and the [Sailor's Astronomical Chart] was something he had chosen and purchased himself, he simply refused to believe such a coincidence.

Perhaps it's just an intuition.

"If it's not a coincidence, then who orchestrated all of this?"

Chapter 511 An Absurd Dream

That night, Scott's mind was in turmoil, and he couldn't fall asleep for a long time.

He repeatedly reflected on his experiences over the past few years but could not find any trace of manipulation.

Everything seemed to be just a coincidence.

But a voice kept lingering in his mind—

There's no such coincidence in the world!

There must be something he doesn't know.

This realization made him very uncomfortable and extremely frustrated.

He desperately wanted to fight against something, but couldn't find a target to fight against.

This time is different from the past.

In the past, no matter what difficulties he encountered, even hearing the prophecy about Slytherin, he could quickly remain calm.

But this time, he completely broke down.

He lay motionless on the bed, his eyes wide open, neither speaking nor showing any signs of sleepiness.

He even imagined his own time travel.

To be reborn in a different world with memories of a past life is already extremely unusual...

"Perhaps...it really is just a coincidence?"

Rimbaud, standing on the bedside pillar, suddenly spoke, breaking the silence.

"Coincidences do happen in life, and some real coincidences are more dramatic than dramas."

Scott listened to it and knew it was true.

You're right.

He said softly.

"Like King Umberto I of Italy and his 'twins,' but..."

Despite the many dramatic coincidences that have occurred in the world, he could never convince himself otherwise.

He believed that the two coordinates were not a coincidence.

No reason.

That's what his intuition told him.

As a wizard, he should trust his intuition.

Seeing that he couldn't persuade Scott, Rimbaud asked again, "So what are you going to do?"

"If everything shows signs of manipulation, what will you do next? Will you just give up?"

"Do not."

Scott sat up abruptly.

"I will not give up."

"No matter what, even if this is a path arranged by others, I will continue to walk it."

"Only in this way can I get the answer."

Rimbaud said, "In that case, don't overthink it."

You're right.

Scott let out a long sigh.

"Thinking too much is pointless."

He couldn't even talk to anyone about it.

Ultimately, it was just his intuition.

So instead of shrinking back because of this, it's better to shed the psychological burden and go into battle lightly.

No matter who did what, there was always a purpose behind it.

As long as he keeps going and gets stronger, he'll figure it all out someday.

"Thank you, Rimbaud."

Scott's tone softened somewhat.

"Good night."

"Good night."

Scott drifted off to sleep.

He opened his eyes suddenly and found himself no longer in the oak cabin.

Looking at the boundless sea of ​​flowers before him, Scott realized with a start that he was asleep.

This dream was incredibly realistic.

Scott felt the warm breeze caressing his skin and smelled the refreshing fragrance of flowers in the wind.

He walked for a long time in the sea of ​​flowers, but he could not find a path or see anything other than flowers.

He didn't even have a way to wake himself up from this dream.

He just stood there quietly.

Suddenly, the wind picked up.

Countless colorful petals were blown by the wind, obscuring his vision.

As the petals were blown away by the wind, a tall figure with a full head of white hair appeared before him.

His face was extremely handsome, with flawless features, making him look almost unreal.

She wore a white robe decorated with flower petals and held a beautifully crafted staff in her hand.

"Hello, Master of Chaldea. I am Merlin. I am known as the Magician of Flowers. Please feel free to call me Merlin. I don't like being formal."

The newcomer spoke in a somewhat flippant tone.

"..."

Scott stared in disbelief at what was happening before his eyes.

"What the hell is this...?"

Chaldea?

Merlin?

Sure enough, it was just an absurd dream!

"Huh?"

The white-haired youth tilted his head.