Harry Potter: I am the Legend

Durmstrang?

The witch ahead paused mid-step, and Hoffa nearly bumped into her.

"No, I just graduated from Hogwarts this year," the witch replied softly, turning her head slightly. After speaking, she resumed her long strides, walking briskly ahead.

Watching her leave the pier, Hoffa hurried to catch up, puzzled. "Why didn't you study at Durmstrang?"

The witch glanced back and said, "Your shoelace is untied."

Hoffa looked down and, sure enough, his shoelace had come loose, likely from being jostled by the dolphins earlier.

After tying his shoes and looking up, the witch had already walked ahead again.

Clearly, she wasn't interested in answering his question. Hoffa checked his watch and caught up to her, asking, "When are we leaving?"

"Our departure is in the afternoon. We'll leave from London's Thames Port, pass through the English Channel, then the Channel Islands, into the North Atlantic. From there, we'll skirt around Southern Europe via the Iberian Peninsula, stop briefly in Lisbon, Portugal, and finally head straight to Casablanca, Morocco. The journey should take about five and a half days."

Osivia answered this question thoroughly, with patience and precision, laying out every detail.

But all the geographic terms made Hoffa's head spin. He wasn't familiar with European geography at all and couldn't understand why such a small region had so many countries.

Still, something didn't sit right with him.

"Wait a second—Morocco? Aren't we going to France?"

"Isn't Morocco part of France?" Osivia replied indifferently. As her gaze shifted to Hoffa's earring, she frowned slightly and asked with a hint of seriousness, "Are you a Gryffindor?"

"Ravenclaw."

"Oh." She relaxed her brow and gave a barely perceptible shrug.

Hoffa had to jog lightly to keep up with the graduate's long strides.

"Are you in Slytherin?" he asked.

She glanced at her dark green robe. "Isn't it obvious?"

"What are you going to Morocco for?"

"Classified mission," Osivia replied casually. "What about you?"

Hoffa smirked. "Top-secret mission."

His response failed to grab her attention. After receiving her letter, Osivia became rather taciturn.

Hoffa gradually pieced together some information about this graduate. She was 18 years old, just out of Hogwarts, and undeniably beautiful.

However, unlike most girls her age, she exuded no warmth or enthusiasm. She was cold and austere, devoid of any decorative accessories. She wore a deep green robe, a tightly coiled bun adorned with several hairpins, and high-top black leather boots.

Though her looks were striking, she always wore a frosty expression and hadn't smiled once since they met.

When Hoffa asked her about geography or travel logistics, she answered with meticulous detail, as if she were a tour guide.

But when he tried to dig into her identity or mission, she would deflect him in peculiar ways.

For instance: Your shoelace is untied.There's dirt in your hair.

Button up your shirt.

The arrogance of Slytherin students was infamous, and Hoffa could understand that. After ten minutes, he gave up on making conversation with this possibly germophobic foreign graduate.

Instead, Hoffa shifted his focus to exploring the wizarding secret realm around them.

So far, the only secret realm Hoffa had fully explored was King's Cross Station. His most profound gain in magical knowledge had been learning the Milarepa Meditation Technique.

It wasn't that he didn't want to explore other secret realms, but...

It wasn't that Hoffa wasn't interested in exploring other secret realms; it was just that most of them were either too vast or he never had the time.

But now it was summer break, and Double Horn Cape didn't seem like an enormous realm. Hoffa wasn't about to let this rare opportunity slip by.

Surviving last year had been due, in no small part, to his miraculous meditation technique.

Though he still didn't fully understand what the knowledge from that madman truly entailed, Hoffa knew that if he could gain something new here, it might become another valuable ace up his sleeve.

Amid the light morning mist, Hoffa and Osivia arrived at a stone fountain square just before the town's dock. The square looked old, with numerous wizards standing around chatting.

Some vendors had set up under large umbrellas, selling ice cream and peculiar drinks.

Osivia sat down on a stone bench in the square and pulled a newspaper from her satchel to read.

"I'm going to check out the town," Hoffa said.

Osivia closed her newspaper, frowning as she pointed to the bench beside her. "Sit here and don't move. The boat arrives in two hours."

Hoffa's eyes widened. Two hours? Did this senior witch think two hours and two minutes were the same?

"I'll just go for a little while," Hoffa insisted.

"No. You have to stay by my side," she said rigidly. "That's Principal Dippet's instruction."

Not even a minute? Hoffa began to sense something was off, though he couldn't pinpoint exactly what.

Unwilling to miss the chance to explore the secret realm, he lied, "I need to use the restroom."

Osivia frowned even more but reluctantly agreed. "Fine. Be quick. We board the boat at noon."

"Sure, sure, sure."

Relieved to be free of this peculiar Slytherin senior, Hoffa dashed off, chuckling inwardly. Did she miss a boat once and now have PTSD?

Double Horn Cape resembled a medieval town, dotted with eccentric and flamboyant Baroque-style buildings in vibrant colors. Many structures were shaped like seashells or conch shells.

At the town entrance, Hoffa noticed a stone stele with faintly visible writing detailing the town's history. He could just make out mentions of wars and over a thousand years of history, but the stele was so worn that the details were illegible.

The cobbled streets were lined with quaint shops selling wizarding supplies, not too different from Hogsmeade. Some specialized in fishing rods and tackle for wizards.

The main difference between this town and places like Diagon Alley or Hogsmeade was the abundance of bronze trident-wielding sculptures scattered throughout. These ranged in size, appearing every few streets. The figures were dramatic and often depicted riding sea creatures with horse heads and fish tails, their expressions somewhat menacing.

Neptune? Poseidon? Hoffa wondered.

The system offered no prompts, leaving Hoffa curious but clueless. Compared to his last venture into Helheim, this secret realm seemed fundamentally different.

In Helheim, his consciousness had merely been projected into the realm, encountering numerous monsters along the way. Here, none of that had happened, sparking his curiosity about the hidden truths of this world.

As he wandered, Hoffa's mental map updated, showing his exploration progress gradually increasing.

10%...

20%...

30%...

The mountain path spiraled upwards as Hoffa ventured deeper into the town. The mist thickened, and the commercial areas at the foot of the hill gave way to quieter, less populated zones. Occasionally, silent wizards passed him, their arms tucked into their sleeves. These wizards maintained a cold, distant demeanor, avoiding any interaction.

By the time Hoffa's exploration progress reached 50%, he had obtained a fragment of a spell. The system now showed his spell fragments at (2/3).

He didn't dwell on it, focusing instead on his surroundings. As he climbed higher, the architecture became increasingly dilapidated.

At first, the buildings seemed normal, but as he ventured further, their style grew ancient and decrepit. Eventually, most of the structures were in ruins.

Some of the crumbling buildings bore Phoenician letters, hinting at a long history of prosperity and destruction on this land, culminating in its present state.

Finally, Hoffa reached the cape's summit, where the vast Atlantic Ocean stretched out before him.

There, he found a ruined structure resembling the Parthenon, its ground littered with broken Roman columns.

Despite the ruinous state of the temple, one bronze statue remained intact. Surrounding it were offerings of fresh flowers and fruit, suggesting it was still revered.

The statue depicted a strange figure—a man riding side-saddle on a horse-headed, fish-tailed creature. Each strand of the man's hair was an octopus tentacle. Though lifelike, the statue's unsettling aura made Hoffa uneasy.

For some reason, the moment Hoffa saw the statue, he had a fleeting vision of ancient wizards kneeling before it, sacrificing infants in ritualistic offerings.

But the vision lasted only a fleeting moment before fading into nothingness.

Standing before the bronze statue, Hoffa completed his exploration of the town. His exploration bar now reached 100%.

At the exact moment he finished, an arcane and enigmatic spell imprinted itself in Hoffa's mind.

This sensation was entirely different from the last time. When he learned the meditation technique, it had felt balanced and tranquil.

This spell, however, exuded a sinister aura. Even from a brief glance, Hoffa could sense the madness and bloodlust lurking within it.

Acquired Madman's Knowledge: The Transmutation Technique of Gugal.

Transmutation Technique:

[Convert Life]: Transform magical energy into life force.

[Crimson Bloom]: Transform life force into magical energy.

(Balance is destined to break.)

Before Hoffa could fully comprehend the details of this deranged knowledge, his exploration meter disappeared, replaced by two new gauges: one red and one blue.

Red: [Life—5]

Blue: [Magic—5]

Out of curiosity, Hoffa tried activating Convert Life.

[Life—8]

[Magic—2]

Instantly, a wave of dizziness swept over him as if his magical reserves had been drained completely. Simultaneously, his veins bulged across his arms, and he felt his physical strength surge.

He then tried using Crimson Bloom.

This time, his legs buckled beneath him, and his face turned ghostly pale. He nearly collapsed to the ground.

[Life—3]

[Magic—7]

Despite the weakness in his legs, his mind felt invigorated as if he had consumed a powerful magic recovery potion. His wristwatch reflected this boost: his minuscule magic value of 0.1X increased to 0.2X.

Quickly checking the time, Hoffa stopped using Crimson Bloom. His life force and magical energy returned to their default balance of 5:5.

The dizziness faded, his legs regained their strength, and he felt normal again.

However, any excitement about the system's reward began to fade. Instead, a creeping frustration took its place.

Finally, Hoffa understood why the system had issued a warning to approach the Madman's Knowledge with caution.

Under normal circumstances, a wizard's life and magical energy maintained an equal ratio. But this spell allowed him to manipulate that ratio at will.

Of course, such power came with dire consequences. Enhancing magic came at the expense of life force, and strengthening life force required sacrificing magic. It was as sinister as it was versatile.

If Hoffa pushed Crimson Bloom to its limits, he could very well kill himself. Similarly, overusing Convert Life might drain him of all magic, reducing him to a mindless husk—not much different from death.

Without a doubt, compared to the unambiguously beneficial knowledge of the Great One, this Madman's Knowledge was akin to a poisoned chalice.

And not just any poison—a deadly one.

(End of Chapter)

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