The ancient castle was silent.
Only Ian's footsteps lightly echoed in the stone corridor. The light from the ubiquitous wall lamps swayed gently, illuminating the fine dust floating in the air.
Ian stood in front of Teacher Morgan's oak door.
His fingertips brushed over the intricate rune carvings on the door.
These ancient patterns emitted a faint blue glow when touched, then returned to calm. A piece of yellowed parchment was stuck to the door, standing out in the dim light.
Ian tore off the parchment.
He looked at it.
Teacher Morgan's sharp handwriting came into view.
"Out temporarily, don't wait. If there's something, solve it yourself—remember, don't enter my bedroom, it's very dangerous inside." Concise, direct, no nonsense—this was typically the bad witch style.
A small warning symbol was drawn at the bottom of the note, clearly worried he would ignore the last reminder. The familiar tone made him seem to see the teacher frowning while writing these words.
"Am I the kind of person who would just enter someone else's bedroom? I'm not!" Ian asked and answered himself. He inspected a bit and found that the bedroom had been closely protected by spells.
Teacher Morgan's character was probably not that of a delicate maiden, perhaps there was something dangerous in the room. After carefully folding the note and putting it into his pocket, Ian lay on the ground.
Of course, he wouldn't enter someone else's room, but that doesn't mean he wouldn't peek through the door crack—this doesn't count as a specialty, the door crack is obviously like a peephole.
Doing such mental preparation, Ian looked through the door crack. The medieval castle door was like this, the crack at the bottom could even fit a hand through.
There was no concern for craftsmanship fitting or not, which meant Ian could clearly see the inside environment. Sure enough, it was just as he suspected. Teacher Morgan wasn't a bashful maiden about her bedroom; rather, she indeed, probably, maybe had placed something dangerous inside.
Through the crack.
He vaguely saw a row of crystal bottles flashing with a dangerous glow on the desk, one constantly changing its eerie colors.
Unable to observe closely.
Ian couldn't determine what the crystal bottles contained. Perhaps it was some kind of legendary treasure, or a product of Teacher Morgan's alchemical craft.
You should know.
As the legendary Black Witch.
Teacher Morgan was a hexagonal warrior in magic, who introduced Ian to alchemy. Even now, Ian wasn't sure if his alchemical skills surpassed Teacher Morgan's.
"Is she out to find the next alchemy materials? Forging some alchemical creation in the Misty Illusion Realm?" Ian could only speculate on Teacher Morgan's sudden departure.
After all.
Teacher Morgan had gone out so hastily; last time, there was no sign when she entered the Misty Illusion Realm, and she also seemingly hadn't informed Ariana in the town.
It is apparent.
Something must have come up temporarily to choose to go out—actually, even though knowledge of wizards might only remain in the Misty Illusion Realm, forging something there is not unusual.
This is just a limitation of knowledge, Pandro King Arthur could brew wine, so naturally, Wizard Morgan could employ her alchemical knowledge in this place.
Alchemy knowledge is a basic color of the world, a demonstration of the Creator's might, not affected even in any special space, only alchemy remains constant.
Previously in the Misty Illusion Realm, Ian had seen raven and God of Death engaging in alchemy there, so now he's very adapted to such activities.
"Perhaps as a wizard, Teacher Morgan is also brewing magic wine." Ian could see liquid swirling inside the crystal bottles, and out of caution and respect for his teacher, he merely licked his lips.
Not violating the Forbidden Forest nor entering the teacher's bedroom to take a sip. Standing up from the ground, Ian shook his head helplessly. It seems this sudden problem from ancient happenings will have to be solved on his own.
It's rather inconvenient.
However, perhaps Teacher Morgan herself couldn't offer any useful advice about Ian's situation. After all, the bronze gate leading Ian to ancient times was clearly something from long ago.
And no records exist in any wizard books, not even any bits of stories have spread, so it's obvious that it must be far more secretive than the Three Sacred Artifacts.
After strolling around the teacher's bedroom door.
Ian still circled back to the hall, leaving the contract, to ask that ancient giant dragon senior who frequently lounges on the outside steps basking in the sun, said to have lived many, many years to the end of its life.
Opening the heavy oak door, sunlight splashed on his face. Ian squinted and walked to the steps. Indeed, the dragon, clad in heavy scales and tail curled in a ball, was already dozing on the ground.
"Senior, are you sure you didn't see Teacher Morgan leave?"
Ian asked while standing at the door.
The dragon slowly opened one eye and yawned: "What's up? Lost your teacher again?"
"Did you already know where she went?" Ian frowned.
The dragon flipped over, its tail flicking, and said with a slightly helpless tone: "I don't know. Didn't see her leave just now, either. Perhaps she used that annoying instant transportation spell, vanished in a flash."