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... the corner of the airship. His breathing was even and deep, his eyes closed in quiet contemplation. A faint, shimmering barrier enveloped him, a subtle layer of protection around his still form.

Over the course of their journey, she had observed this ritual of his – finding a quiet space to sit in meditation. It wasn’t the focused intensity of martial arts practice; it seemed more akin to… his spirit having momentarily detached itself from his physical body.

Recalling his enigma ...

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Cyril was a Harry Potter book fan. He unexpectedly obtained a chatterbox system that said it would take him to experience the desired Wizarding World.

He rubbed his hands together gleefully. Was there such a good thing?

However, once the system was finished, he found that this Wizarding World didn’t seem quite right?

Cyril (eyes shaking: Forest monster? Brass steam train? Gloomy wizard’s tower? Wizarding academy of the fittest? This wasn’t right!

System (forcing itself to be calm): Magic creatures! The appearance doesn’t matter! The architecture isn’t the key! It is still a wizarding academy! There isn’t anything wrong with it! Not bad, not bad!

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My god! This seemed to the other identity of the crazy great magician and necromancer?

***

According to legends, the dark, paranoid, crazy and perverted great necromancer rubbed the white and delicate neck of the beautiful young man in his arms and whispered, “My dear, I heard that you have been very close to the commander of the Holy Light Knights recently?

Cyril denied it three consecutive times with an innocent face, “I’m not! I didn’t! Who is talking nonsense?”

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