For the descendants of Slytherin, a special affection for snakes seems to be innate. The influence of bloodlines in the Magic World is so powerful that traces of many mighty ancestors exist on the genetic level.

Of course.

Isn't this a form of "Emperor's Bloodline" as well? There are many imprints from powerful ancestors at the genetic level, and the descendants will inherit much of the talent and blessings brought by those mighty ancestors—this is why the idea of pureblood supremacy is not entirely wrong, as maintaining the purity of bloodlines indeed maximizes the chances of minimizing the decline of ancestral blessings.

However, on the other hand, wizards' research on genes and bloodlines is too backward, so they haven't realized that genetic diversity can also create geniuses, those who become others' ancestors without needing ancestral blessings for themselves.

The reason why many Muggle-born or half-blood wizards can achieve great things, in a sense, is precisely because of this.

"You really have a special fondness for giant creatures and Snake Monsters." Ian couldn't help but find it funny after listening to Riddle's words; he didn't argue, because he'd already shown off in front of Riddle today.

Showing off twice in a row diminishes the thrill, so better save it for later... if there's another chance to show off in front of Riddle.

"I really need to study this thing." Ian didn't mind Riddle's opinion; he just shook the bottle housing the Big Bad Wolf, preparing to extract some information about the Soul Hall from this fellow.

Of course.

This needs to be done in a hidden room, because if the Big Bad Wolf reveals some sensitive information, Ian does not want Riddle or any outsider to know; he is too aware of what he might do.

...

The arrival of the night.

Did not bring any dimness to the castle.

Instead, under the illumination of countless candlelights, it exuded a warm and charming glow.

Ian, Riddle, and Malfoy thought they would continue to live quietly in the castle, but unexpectedly, the Duke, who acted like he didn't know their existence for an entire day and night, suddenly announced a banquet to entertain his daughter's teacher.

Perhaps because the Big Bad Wolf didn't complete the task, or maybe secret intelligence disclosed to Duke Dingtagir Rojas about the mysterious existence of the Soul Hall being captured by Ian, at any rate, Duke Dingtagir Rojas stopped pretending nothing was happening.

The banquet was held with great grandeur.

The castle's hall was decorated magnificently, with crystal chandeliers resembling dazzling stars, each appearing to be a valuable treasure, radiating splendor under the light of burning candles. The banquet table was filled with various delicacies, though as Ian expected, the variety wasn't extensive, but each dish was made with exquisite ingredients.

Steaming hot, exuding a tempting aroma. It must be said, for the land of Great Britain, known as a "gastronomic desert," this was indeed a very sumptuous feast.

Several maids dressed in black and white uniforms stood quietly by, ready to serve the guests at any moment, but alas, in this era, some magical maid artifacts hadn't been invented yet, otherwise, it might have looked even more pleasing.

"Alas, there's roasted lamb but no peppers or cumin, really feels like something's missing." Although Ian was somewhat contemplative in his heart, on the surface, he leisurely cut a small piece of lamb and placed it in his mouth, chewing delicately.

Always maintaining a composed smile on his face.

Duke Dingtagir Rojas and his wife, Lady Igraine, were also elegantly dressed for the evening. The Duke wore a deep red robe embroidered with golden patterns, looking solemn and majestic, but with a trace of undisguised delight in his eyes. Lady Igraine wore a light purple gown, graceful and noble, her gaze occasionally falling on Ian, full of appreciation and expectation.

"Mr. Prince."

The Duke raised his goblet, his voice loud and enthusiastic, "Welcome to my realm, and thank you for being willing to teach my daughter Morgan. She has finally found a true wizard, a powerful wizard, which makes me extremely relieved."

As the saying goes, one doesn't strike a smiling face.

Ian smiled slightly, raising his glass in response, swirling around the cola he secretly replaced, also speaking appropriately, "The Duke praises me too much, being able to teach Miss Morgan is undoubtedly my honor as well."

His voice was equally loud.

But these words were obviously driven by a desire for survival and caution.

The little wizard even used some magical tricks professors would use in the Hogwarts Great Hall to make sure sitting not far away Morgan could hear his words clearly and remember them well.

The young Black Witch was wearing a light blue dress today, her dark hair cascading over her shoulders, looking obedient and elegant. She slightly lowered her head, holding a silver fork in her hand, gently cutting a small piece of cake and placing it in her mouth.

Little Morgan's manners were impeccable, full of elegance, no different from the Morgan the Witch in Ian's memory, only in her elegance was a bit less of casualness and more of intentionality, clearly because she was deliberately playing the role of a lady.

The bad woman's acting skills.

Of course, they are honed from a young age. In comparison, Riddle, the older version of Voldemort's young form, also had decent acting skills, after all, he managed to fool other professors besides Dumbledore.