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In the room that resembled a giant's castle, Ian sat on the bed. He held a mug of hot cocoa and sipped it slowly while glancing at Fawkes. The phoenix was huddled beneath Dumbledore's robes, its feathers slightly ruffled and its eyes warily fixed on Claire. She sat at a table in the corner of the room, leisurely simmering a pot of soup that filled the air with an appetizing aroma.
The problem was that the soup contained a Phoenix.
To be precise, it was her own phoenix.
"A truly insane phoenix," Ian muttered, staring at the bubbling cauldron. Inside, the Phoenix was luxuriating in its "hot spring," occasionally adjusting its position to ensure the broth thoroughly soaked its feathers.
It had begun the process of rebirth within the soup.
"..."
Dumbledore stroked his beard thoughtfully, offering no comment.
"So..." Ian began slowly, his voice still tinged with disbelief. "Can your phoenix grow stronger by eating itself?"
"Yep," Claire replied without looking up, stirring the broth with a long-handled spoon. "Every time she's reborn, she's stronger than before."
After a pause, she added, "Sometimes she gets too chatty, so I force her to simmer for a while to quiet her down."
Ian's eyes widened. "You're abusing your pet!"
He knew this was something the childless, cat-loving woman should never see.
"She doesn't mind," Claire said, pointing at the phoenix in the cauldron. "See? She's actually enjoying it."
As she spoke, she stirred the cauldron again.
Ian leaned closer and saw that the phoenix was dissolving into essence within the broth seemingly without pain. In fact, it looked quite content.
Ian.
"..."
The fact that a Phoenix could consume itself to increase its strength struck Ian as a serious bug. He wondered if all phoenixes were like this or if this ability was unique to the female Titan's phoenix.
This was simply too overpowered!
"This... this is ridiculous!" He turned to Dumbledore. "Professor, what do you make of this?"
Dumbledore merely smiled and took a sip of tea before speaking in a calm tone. "I believe every phoenix has its own way of living, so I won't pass judgment."
"Uh..."
Ian wanted to say more, but Fawkes's reaction interrupted him. The loyal companion was trembling, and only a tiny part of his head was visible from inside Dumbledore's robes.
Ian wondered what this "traditional phoenix" thought about such a bizarre training method.
But the moment Fawkes met his gaze, he let out a chirp and dove completely into the robes, not daring to show his head again.
"Is it afraid of being stewed too?" Ian asked tentatively.
Apparently, not all phoenixes were that fearless.
"Perhaps," Dumbledore replied calmly. His voice carried firm conviction, unmoved by the temptation of power. "But I won't let it suffer such a fate."
To Dumbledore, a phoenix was a companion. Even if it provided little combat strength, he would never do such a thing just to make it stronger.
If someone else had done this, the old headmaster might have criticized them, but since she was the Titan, the origin of all things, creating her own alchemical artifact was none of anyone else's business.
"Phew…" Ian let out a breath of relief. "That's good."
His life at Hogwarts must not collapse because of this. Just imagining the warm castle atmosphere ruined by the headmaster stewing a phoenix in his office every day was absurd.
Claire noticed Ian's expression and curled her lip. "His bird is too delicate. Phoenixes are the embodiment of eternal fire... what's wrong with eating themselves?"
"That's called resource recycling."
That was clearly bug abuse.
Yet the Female Titan spoke with unreasonable confidence.
As she spoke, she took a handful of sparkling powder from her pocket and sprinkled it into the pot. Ian recognized it as a high-tier magical spice. Instantly, the color of the soup shifted from golden-red to a dazzling crimson.
Its aroma became so rich that it almost felt tangible, condensing into tiny points of light in the air.
Dumbledore stood nearby.
Behind his half-moon glasses, his blue eyes shimmered thoughtfully, but he remained silent. His long fingers gently stroked Fawkes, hidden inside his robes.
It was as if he were soothing a frightened kitten.
"Professor," Ian asked, "do you think this is normal?"
"Within the magical world, 'normal' is a rather subjective concept." Dumbledore answered gently. "I recall Newt Scamander recording a magical lizard that eats its own tail. Each time it regenerates, its scales grow harder."
That was indeed true.
Hearing this... Claire snapped her fingers smugly.
"See! Even your future magical creature scholar understands this principle!" She even knew the term "magical creature scholar"... who knows how often she had peeked into the future?
Ian rubbed his temples and decided to stop thinking about it. Instead, he focused on the increasingly miraculous soup, miniature phantom phoenixes had begun appearing on the surface.
They circled gracefully in flight.
"So, every time your phoenix is stewed, it becomes stronger?" Ian asked cautiously.
"Exactly." Claire scooped up a spoonful of soup, tasted it, and nodded in satisfaction. "But the prerequisite is using a specific magical flame, adding the correct spices, and coordinating it with the proper spells..."
The moment she said that...
Ian froze slightly.
He realized it might be a magical ritual, perhaps an early form of ritual magic. He glanced at Albus Dumbledore, who didn't look surprised at all, as if he had already figured it out.
Seeing Ian's rapidly changing expression, Claire narrowed her eyes.
"What? You want to learn?" The Female Titan looked eager to give it a try.
Fawkes poked his head out from under Dumbledore's robe and let out a frightened squawk. He was intelligent and could clearly count how many phoenixes were available at Hogwarts for Ian to "practice" on.
"No!" Ian waved his hands quickly. "I'm just curious..."
Claire shrugged and returned to her cooking.
At that moment... Dumbledore walked to the window.
He stood there, gazing through the glass at the starry night sky. His eyes narrowed slightly as if he were observing something or contemplating a profound question.
After a moment, he slowly turned around and looked at Ian, who was sitting by the bed and still wearing his signature gentle smile.
"Since you're fine now," he said lightly, in a relaxed and pleasant tone, "I'll go collect the items this Titan mentioned."
Ian blinked. "You're going to help her collect what?"
Dumbledore smiled faintly, sounding as casual as if he were discussing tomorrow's class schedule. "When asking for help, one must offer something in return first, mustn't they?"
Before his words were even finished...
...pop!
A soft but decisive crack echoed through the air, and Dumbledore vanished instantly, leaving only faint magical aftereffects in the room.
His figure twisted and disappeared.
The spatial fluctuation of Apparition left a ripple in the air.
He left abruptly.
Perhaps it was out of consideration for Fawkes's terror.
"My headmaster just... left like that?" Ian murmured, his gaze drifting toward Claire, who sat calmly stirring her cauldron.
"What did he go to collect for you?" Ian couldn't help asking.
Claire didn't answer immediately. She scooped up a spoonful of steaming soup, blew on it gently, and nodded in satisfaction. "Mm. Perfect heat."
"Hey." Ian frowned. "Don't pretend you didn't hear me."
He could easily see through the Female Titan's poor acting skills.
"Oh, you mean Dumbledore?" Claire finally looked up and spoke as if nothing were unusual. "He's helping me gather some alchemical materials."
She stirred the soup again.
Red steam rose and formed a small vortex in front of her. If not for her good looks, she might have resembled an old witch brewing poison.
Good-looking people had that kind of privilege, even brewing poison could look like making delicious chicken soup. Ian, being good-looking himself, deeply understood this truth.
"Alchemical materials?"
Ian raised an eyebrow. He was curious about the deal the Female Titan and Dumbledore had made while he was in that Twilight Zone state. He was certain there had to be a reason behind it.
"What kind of alchemical materials?"
His follow-up sounded a bit aggressive.
However... Claire didn't mind at all.
"
"Alchemy materials that can make people grow taller."
Claire blinked, her tone casual. Her words left Ian bewildered.
"Potions that can make people grow taller?" Ian's expression instantly turned strange. He sized up Claire, the three-meter-tall Female Titan, whose head nearly brushed the ceiling, a height perhaps unattainable for humans.
Yet, among Titans, such stature was nothing remarkable.
"Are you... trying to grow taller?" He couldn't help but ask.
It was the most logical conclusion.
However, Claire's face darkened, and her voice rose half a tone.
"Who wants to grow taller!" she snapped. "Don't be ridiculous!"
The spoon in her hand clattered against the pot's rim.
"I'm perfectly satisfied with my height!" she glared at Ian, silver hair floating around her head as if moved by an unseen wind. "Those materials can be used to brew other things!"
"Then why did you collect them?" Ian pressed, even more puzzled.
He suspected the Female Titan was trying to cover something up.
To be honest, short people often sought various methods to grow taller. Ian had once been short himself, so he understood this psychology intimately.
However, this time he might have miscalculated.
"Of course, there are other uses," Claire said, waving her hand. Her voice had regained its calm tone. "For example, enhancing physical body, boosting mental force, slowing down aging... and incidentally, it can also be used to strengthen Phoenix's regenerative abilities."
"Or in many other ways," she continued, her expertise in potion-making evident. "Regrowing flesh, increasing tissue vitality—that's the core of the Growth Potion."
This was perfectly reasonable. As an eternal life undying Seer, Claire wasn't just capable of concocting potions herself; she could also peek into the future to steal potion recipes, drawing on the collective wisdom of countless individuals.
With such a lifespan and abilities, coupled with a portion of the Creation God's authority, it would be far more surprising if Claire, who loved to peek into the future, knew nothing about potions.
"Wait," Ian suddenly realized. "You just said 'incidentally'? What experiment are you planning to conduct with these ingredients?"
He suspected Claire had simply manipulated Dumbledore into collecting the spices for her, and he couldn't fathom how the Female Titan had convinced the headmaster to go out and gather them.
Judging by the old headmaster's demeanor, he seemed genuinely invested in the matter, not just to save Fawkes. Ian could sense Dumbledore's genuine desire to find those ingredients.
"What did you feed my headmaster..." he started to ask, but just then, the cauldron in the corner of the room let out a sharp, clear cry.
Immediately, the golden-red broth surged violently. The Phoenix phantom, previously hovering above the cauldron, condensed from magic, shuddered as if summoned and transformed into a streak of light, darting toward a nearby bird's nest.
The next moment, it recondensed into a radiant Phoenix egg, lying quietly in its nest.
"It worked!" Claire's eyes lit up, and she clapped her hands excitedly. "My Phoenix Rebirth Soup finally succeeded! The heat this time was just perfect!"
She seemed proud of her culinary skills.
She picked up a clean wooden bowl and began ladling the soup, saying to Ian as she did so, "Come on, take a sip. It's incredibly nourishing and will grant you some of the Phoenix's abilities."
"You should drink it yourself," Ian waved his hands dismissively. "I don't want to turn into an egg."
Claire shrugged. "Suit yourself. But this soup is truly remarkable. Especially the final Phoenix return process—it was absolutely flawless."
As she spoke, Claire filled a bowl to the brim and drank it down with relish. She didn't poison herself or collapse into a grotesque mutation.
A strange aroma wafted from the pot, a blend of warm, freshly baked bread and a sunny sweetness.
"This stuff tastes just like Little Chef's cooking," Ian said, sighing as he watched Claire savor her soup.
To be honest, it did smell delicious.
But Titans and humans had different constitutions. Even though the aroma was incredibly tempting, Ian hesitated to try the stew.
Mainly because the feathers hadn't been plucked, and the bird hadn't been scalded.
It just didn't seem clean or sanitary.
"Even Little Chef's cooking isn't this good... mine is surprisingly good," Claire replied, proving she truly knew the show. This was Ian's test, as the anime didn't exist in this world's future.
It was something only Ian knew.
The fact that she knew about the anime made Ian's expression grow complex. He realized this overly familiar Claire might have a deeper connection to him than he'd thought.
Perhaps a deep connection to Raven.
At that moment, Claire ladled another bowl.
"Are you sure you don't want a taste?" she pressed, continuing to tempt Ian.
Ian stared at the shimmering motes floating in the bowl, hesitatingly shaking his head. "No, thanks..."
"But this is incredibly nourishing," Claire coaxed. "It will grant you partial abilities of the Phoenix—affinity for fire, resistance to rebirth, and even enhanced magic recovery."
Ian was still wavering when the Female Titan, while ladling soup, casually added, "Oh, and we can use the remaining broth to create an Ancestor of the House of Dumbledore."
At these words, Ian froze in place.
"...What?!"
His hand trembled, nearly spilling the soup bowl. He stared at Claire, wondering if he'd misheard. But Claire continued drinking her soup as if nothing were amiss.
"Yes, this is the origin of the House of Dumbledore," the Seer said, revealing the buried truth of history.
(End of chapter)