Chapter 1240: Accident and Centaur_2

Chapter 1240: Chapter 399: Accident and Centaur_2

“Protego Totalum! Impervius!”

Ian frantically channeled his magic power. This time, entering the Time Passage without the protection of a Time Converter or a Time Machine was truly thrilling.

Magic power combined with divine blessings. The golden blessing of the Sun God automatically appeared, forming a solid halo on his body, barely resisting the direct erosion of the space-time turbulence.

He could feel his strength rapidly depleting, the blessing of Solar Divine Power violently clashing with the destructive energy of space-time, emitting a sizzling sound. His skin tingled painfully, as if time were trying to accelerate or reverse on his body, but was forcibly neutralized by divine power.

This feeling was even more terrifying than facing the Evil God Set-Apep. It wasn’t a tangible attack, but a shake of the foundation of existence. He felt stretched into infinitely thin lines at times, compressed into a singularity at others; one second felt like millennia, while the next seemed only an instant.

“I must… stay stable!”

Ian gritted his teeth, deploying all the Protective Magic he had learned throughout his life. Like a single leaf in a raging sea, he was ready to capsize at any moment.

Yet he tenaciously held on.

Not knowing how long it took, perhaps just a moment, perhaps eternity, the violent turbulence finally began to weaken. Ian felt like he was forcefully “spat” out by a massive force.

After another bout of nauseating freefall.

Bam!

He landed heavily on a patch of soft, humus-covered ground, rolling over several times before stopping.

“Ugh… well, at least I landed smoothly without being torn apart,” Ian coughed severely, every bone in his body protesting, magic power almost exhausted. He raised his head with difficulty, and what greeted him was… a dense, endless forest of towering ancient trees.

“Merlin’s beard…”

Ian lay back on the ground powerlessly, letting out a painful groan, “Another forest?! Can’t I land in a luxurious hotel with a soft bed, hot soup, and House-Elves to serve me?”

He miss the four-poster bed in Hogwarts Tower, the always abundant meals in the Great Hall, and the adoring eyes and delicious snacks offered by the House-Elves.

“Grumble…” His stomach protested loudly, pulling him back to reality from his reminiscing. Hunger surged like a tide, reminding him of his current predicament.

He struggled to sit up, checking his own condition. His robe had multiple tears, and his body had many scrapes and bruises, magic power almost depleted, but fortunately no serious injuries. The money bag he carried was still there, with the intact Time Machine parts and Eye of the Ra Fragment inside.

“Those eyes…” Ian recalled the moment before being caught in the turbulence, feeling a lingering fear, “Was it the owner of those eyes who launched the attack? Was the goal to expel me? Or was falling into that wrong timeline an accident, and that being was just correcting my presence as an external factor?”

He shook his head, putting aside these questions without immediate answers. The priority now was to restore his strength and magic power. The forest was quiet, with only the rustle of wind through the treetops and the calls of unknown birds. Ian took a deep breath, the magic power aura in the air… was normal.

Even richer than in the era he was familiar with, which gave him a bit of reassurance. Although battered by space-time turbulence, the blessing of the Sun God miraculously preserved his life and magic power. He could feel the golden stream within still warm and strong, though slightly chaotic and needing time to recover.

“At least get some food first.”

He stood up, brushed off the dirt, and began to search for prey. As an experienced wizard, survival in the wild was not difficult.

Ian scanned the surroundings, using Magic Perception to sense life fluctuations.

Soon, he spotted a sturdy stag grazing on grass in the glade amidst the forest, with elegant antlers, completely unaware of the approaching danger.

Ian silently raised his Magic Wand.

He cast a Love Potion spell.

A low-tier illusion magic able to temporarily affect the perception of animals. Simultaneously, he used Wind Magic to create gentle air disturbances around the stag, making it believe a predator was closing in.

The stag lifted its head alertly, ears perked up, with a hint of panic in its eyes.

“Disorientation,” he murmured an incantation, a soft light shooting towards the stag.

The grazing stag suddenly lifted its head, its gaze becoming dazed. It turned its head in confusion, seemingly completely losing its sense of direction, starting to wander aimlessly.

“Growth of vines,” Ian waved his Magic Wand again, aiming at the branches of a tall tree above the stag. Strands of tough vines began to move as if alive, quickly extending and intertwining into a circular loop.

The disoriented stag, oblivious, continued to wander, stretching its graceful antlers right into the vine loop.

“Tighten.” Ian snapped his fingers.

The vine loop tightened upwards rapidly, firmly entangling the antlers. The startled stag struggled to lift its head, only causing the loop to tighten further.

Its hooves flailed helplessly, lifting higher until it ultimately suffocated, the process swift and silent.

Ian approached, observing the stag hanging in mid-air, nodding with no remorse, “Your sacrifice spirit is commendable, sacrificing yourself to keep me from starving. Worthy of praise.”

He displayed the hypocrisy of Westerners to the utmost.

“Rest in peace, brave Mr. Stag,” Ian said softly, beginning to skillfully process the prey. He used Flame Magic to roast the deerskin, separated the meat, and applied Purification Spell to remove impurities.

Soon, a campfire blazed, golden venison skewered on branches, dripping oil with a sizzling sound, and the scent wafting.

Ian took a bite, crispy on the outside and tender inside, incredibly delicious.

“Hmm… not as good as Hogwarts, but still better than starving,” he said contently, chewing as he gazed into the depths of the forest, beginning to ponder.

Those eyes earlier… whose were they?

He recalled the glimpse in the time vortex—icy and indifferent eyes, as if executing some predetermined program. Perhaps expelling him wasn’t malign, but a… preventive mechanism.

“Heavenly Dao?”

Ian’s imagination ran wild.

The campfire crackled, illuminating his contemplative face. He once again found himself tossed into an unknown time-space, likely “manually” discarded by some terrifying entity.

That erroneous universe.

Even deeper than he imagined.

It all had an artificial twist about it, like invisible hands forcibly bending history towards an extreme, illogical direction.

“Perhaps that wrong timeline isn’t the only one…” A bold speculation formed in his mind, “Could it be possible there’s something—some entity that should have disappeared or failed in a standard timeline—using some unknown factor, wanting to go further, or merely to preserve itself, forcibly carving its own distorted timeline?”

“Some… vanished gods?” Ian speculated quietly, feeling as though touching the edge of a colossal conspiracy. Those Elder Gods fallen and forgotten in mythologies, could they be attempting to return in such ways? Or are some entities trying to ascend to godhood, tampering with time?

As he pondered, a peculiar sound emerged from the distant forest. Not wind through treetops, nor animals scurrying through underbrush, but steady, rhythmic footsteps with unusual rhythm, interspersed with low neighs and faint metallic clinks.

Ian became alert immediately, swiftly extinguishing the campfire and casting Illusionary Body Spell to conceal himself, gripping his Magic Wand tightly.

The sounds drew closer. Through gaps in the trees, Ian saw moving figures—tall, muscular, with human male torsos.

And the lower halves were lustrous and powerful horse bodies.

“Centaurs?” Ian relaxed slightly, having encountered such creatures in Hogwarts’ Forbidden Forest, even studied them in Grindelwald’s Defense Against the Dark Arts Class.

But soon he saw the difference. These centaurs appeared more… ancient and primitive than any he’d seen. Almost naked, barely covering their shoulders with coarse animal skins, their bronze skin adorned with mysterious white totemic patterns, wild hair and beards flowing freely.

And each centaur held… AK47s?