The last thing Ian saw was the flashing red 'BERSERK' warning on the control panel. Then, an irresistible force hurled the entire time machine out of the time corridor, sending it plunging towards an unknown space-time.
When he regained consciousness, he found himself lying on a patch of grass.
The air was filled with an unfamiliar scent, and the colour of the sky seemed unlike anything he could remember from any era. Beside him, the once-cool time machine had been reduced to a smoking pile of scrap metal with sparks occasionally jumping between severed wires.
Ian struggled to sit up and checked his body. Aside from a few scratches and bruises, he seemed mostly unharmed. His white robe was stained with mud and grass, yet the faint golden aura still flickered beneath his skin.
The lead box he was carrying was still safely tucked inside his robe pocket.
The Fragment of Ra's Eye was intact.
"Well, at least the most important thing wasn't lost," Ian muttered wryly. Still not daring to be careless, he quickly took the lead box, something he hadn't had time to store earlier, and placed it in his money pouch.
Ian's money pouch had been reinforced time and time again. It was no longer just an item with an Undetectable Extension Charm; it was layered with multiple protective spells, turning it into a secure storage device.
After all, it contained everything he owned. If it got destroyed, all his belongings would spill out everywhere.
Would it be like running into one of those 'fairy-like girls'… who could handle that?
"Cough, cough… who designed this landing system? They should be sent to work with people who don't even speak the same language!" Ian grumbled, getting to his feet and looking around.
It was a deep forest. Towering, ancient trees blocked out the sky, and vines coiled around their trunks like snakes. The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and something ancient. In the distance, he could hear the murmur of a stream and the calls of unknown birds. The sky was covered with heavy clouds, allowing only faint light through.
"Where am I?" Ian frowned, forcing himself to stand up. He kicked the smoking wreckage of the time machine. "Where's Camelot? Where are the Knights of the Round Table? There isn't even a hint of a castle!"
The climate was mild and the vegetation lush. Aside from ruling out the possibility that he had landed in the Jurassic era, he could not determine the exact time or place.
The wrecked time machine crackled once more, then fell completely silent.
Ian took out a magical compass that Morgan had taught him to use to sense temporal magical fluctuations. But the needle spun wildly before finally stopping in a vague direction, pointing deep into the forest.
"Energy disorder... temporal chaos?" Ian narrowed his eyes. "Could that force have not merely interfered, but thrown me directly into an unknown point in time?"
It was only a guess.
"Don't tell me I've been dumped in an era I can't return from." Ian walked over to inspect the wreckage. The core components were damaged, not impossible to repair, but far from easy.
There was still much about Titan technology that he didn't fully understand. Even with his skill, he lacked the alchemical materials needed for proper restoration.
"The materials used in Titan technology are completely different from what I have. Even figuring out substitutes would be a massive undertaking."
After all, he was originally a young wizard from Hogwarts at the end of the 20th century. Most of his alchemical materials were from that era and were vastly different from those used in the age of the Titans.
Although he had collected many ancient materials during his travels through time, these still differed from materials from the Titan era.
After all, what could be older than the age of the Titans?
"Looks like I'll have to find a local warlock for help," Ian sighed, salvaging anything usable from the wreckage, scraps and broken components that hadn't been completely destroyed.
"Honestly… there's barely anything left worth using."
Ian stood before the remains of the time machine, his brows tightly furrowed. He had expected severe damage, but the sight of the smoking heap still made his heart sink.
"Reparo!"
He tried to take a shortcut by casting the Repairing Charm.
With a sigh, he flicked his wand. Golden light enveloped the fragments. This upgraded version of the charm had once rebuilt shattered pyramid stones and restored sections of the Nile's embankment. It had even worked on most magical items, defying common wizarding understanding.
Yet now, against the wreckage of the time machine, this powerful magic achieved almost nothing. The fragments trembled weakly and produced a few feeble clicking sounds before falling silent once more.
"Looks like it really won't work..." Ian muttered to himself.
This time machine was a fusion of Titan technology and magical craftsmanship. Its complexity far exceeded that of ordinary magical items. This was especially true of the core time-drive module, which operated on cross-dimensional principles that a standard Repairing Charm simply couldn't handle.
He crouched down and began carefully inspecting the wreckage.
The control panel had completely melted. The navigation system was shattered into dozens of pieces. The worst damage was to the time-drive core: the crystal that should have been glowing blue was now dull and lifeless, its surface covered in cracks. At a glance, it was clear that the damage was severe.
"Looks like I'll have to fix it the hard way," He sighed, shaking his head, and began casting sorting spells.
With a flick of his wand, the parts separated automatically into three categories: intact, repairable and beyond saving. He carefully stored the usable components in his money pouch, which had been enchanted with an Undetectable Extension Charm.
This seemingly ordinary leather pouch concealed an enormous internal space.
After repeated upgrades, it now had enough capacity to hold an entire city.
As for the charred, unusable remains, Ian didn't hesitate.
"Vanishing Charm."
He spoke softly, and a golden light emerged from the tip of his wand, reducing the debris to its most basic particles and scattering them into the air.
No technological remnants could be left behind; anything that might cause a spacetime paradox or be misused had to be erased. This was a fundamental rule for time travelers. Completely annihilating the burnt remains would prevent anyone from discovering them and causing unnecessary trouble.
"I need to figure out what era I'm in."
After finishing up, Ian stood and surveyed his surroundings.
This was an unfamiliar wilderness. Dense forest stretched into the distance, and the air was filled with the fresh scent of vegetation. He decided to head towards the forest, hoping to find signs of human activity.
The forest was even denser than it had appeared from outside. Towering ancient trees blocked out the sky, and a thick layer of fallen leaves made the ground soft underfoot.
Ian skillfully cast several detection spells. Only after confirming that there were no dangerous magical creatures nearby did he venture further in.
En route, he encountered plenty of wildlife, including deer, wild rabbits, and various birds. Surprisingly, however, there was almost no trace of magical creatures.
No Bowtruckles leapt between the branches.
No Occamies were nesting in the treetops.
Not even the common Puffskein.
"Strange..." Ian murmured thoughtfully. "The magical environment here seems depleted."
As an experienced wizard, he could sense magical fluctuations keenly. The magical energy in this era was extremely thin, almost as if it had been deliberately suppressed or drained by some outside force.
Such a situation was extremely rare in all the other eras he had experienced.
Even in regions inhabited by Muggles, magical energy shouldn't be this scarce. In fact, Muggle areas weren't that different from wizarding ones; many still nurtured magical creatures.
Earth might have environments that are especially suitable for magical creatures, but there shouldn't be anywhere that is completely unfit for them.
"Don't tell me I've ended up in a period of magical decline, like the 30^(th) or 50^(th) century..."
Feeling uneasy, he continued forward. After about an hour, he heard the sound of flowing water. His spirits lifted as he followed it and soon found a crystal-clear stream.
Rivers were the cradle of civilization. Following the flow downstream would likely lead to human settlements.
Basic wilderness survival knowledge.
"I'm feeling a bit thirsty."
Ian crouched down, scooped up a handful of water, and cast a few detection spells.
"Water quality: safe. No magical contamination." Nodding in satisfaction, he drank some and stored a portion before continuing downstream.
Although Ian had already developed water-creation magic and bread-conjuring spells that were on a par with those of mages in World of Warcraft, natural resources were still far superior.
Just like food without technological interference.
The river wound onward, and Ian's judgement proved correct. Less than two hours along the riverbank, he began to notice signs of human activity: first, scattered farmland; then, simple fences; and finally, a well-trodden dirt road.
People lived here.
And it didn't look like the apocalyptic era.
"Modern times?"
Ian quickened his pace and soon caught sight of a village.
Much to his surprise, there were utility poles and streetlights in the village. Although they were somewhat different in design from what he was familiar with, they were unmistakably modern infrastructure.
"Have I been thrown back to my original era?" Ian was overjoyed.
If he had really returned to the late 20^(th) or early 21^(st) century, he could quickly contact Hogwarts. Or, at the very least, he could seek help from the Ministry of Magic, more specifically, the Department of Mysteries.
After all, in the Wizarding World, everyone knew that the Department of Mysteries was the only truly useful official institution.
The Ministry of Magic headquarters was full of nothing but useless lackeys and fools. Ian quickened his pace as he calculated inwardly, preparing to approach the locals and figure out what era he had landed in.
However, as he drew closer, something began to feel off.
The streetlights looked far too old, like designs from the mid-20^(th) century. The architectural style of the village was also strange: a bizarre mix of traditional and modern elements that he had never seen before.
Most unsettling of all was the massive sign standing at the village entrance. Carved into it was a striking iron cross symbol.
Ian's heart sank.
He had seen that symbol countless times in history books.
"No way…" he muttered, quickening his pace as he stepped into the village.
What he saw shocked him completely.
Nearly every building displayed red flags bearing a white circle with that chilling hooked cross at the center. The villagers all wore uniform grey clothing and had rigid, standardized hairstyles, regardless of age or gender. A group of children were playing in an open space, but disturbingly, their game involved marching like soldiers and giving salutes.
"What… kind of place is this…" Ian was overcome with disbelief. At first, he thought he had somehow been transported back to the era of World War II. However, the presence of electrical infrastructure suggested a much later time.
While he was still stunned, a villager noticed him.
It was a middle-aged man wearing an ill-fitting uniform and holding an old hunting rifle. His gaze was wary and hostile.
"Stop! Who are you?" The man shouted in German, aiming the gun at Ian.
Ian could understand German, although the heavy dialect made it somewhat difficult. Still, the hostility was unmistakable. Facing the gun, Ian remained completely calm. He turned his head slightly and instinctively cast Legilimency, attempting to read the man's thoughts directly.
But the moment his consciousness entered the man's mind, an overwhelming flood of information surged in, making his scalp tingle.
This wasn't a single coherent mind.
It was a brain that had been thoroughly indoctrinated and filled with fanatical beliefs.
Even more shocking was the time-related information he extracted from those fragments of thought.
It was 1998 but not the 1998 he knew.
"…What?"
Ian's pupils contracted sharply.
He finally understood why the magical energy here was so weak. Under such a regime, wizards and magic would inevitably be systematically persecuted and suppressed. Most magical knowledge had probably been destroyed, and the remaining wizards had been forced into hiding.
The decline of wizards and magical creatures was the true reason behind this era of magic deprivation. Nature and life were deeply interconnected, each influencing the other.
"Answer me! Who are you?" The villager shouted again, his finger tightening on the trigger.
More villagers had gathered, surrounding Ian. Every pair of eyes was filled with suspicion and hostility.
Well, no surprise there.
After all, Ian clearly didn't look 'pure' German.
He was, after all, of British noble descent.
"I mean no harm," he said, quickly assessing the situation.
He couldn't use large-scale magic here; that would reveal his identity as a wizard, which would essentially be a death sentence in a world that rejected magic so violently. However, he couldn't simply give up either; who knew what these brainwashed villagers might do?
"I'm just a lost traveler," Ian replied in English, quietly tightening his grip on his wand. He hoped to bluff his way through, though he knew the chances were slim.
As expected, hearing English made the villagers even more alert.
"Grab him!" Someone shouted. "He might be one of those evil Axis remnants!"
So now the Allies had become the Axis? History really was written by the victors.
The villagers rushed forward.
Ian sighed. Any hope of a peaceful resolution had disappeared.
"Stupefy!"
With a flick of his wand, the villagers at the front collapsed instantly.
This only served to enrage the others, however.
Gunshots rang out, and bullets whistled past Ian. He was forced to cast Protego, shielding himself as he considered his escape options rapidly.
"Apparition? No, I don't know the magical rules of this timeline..."
"Transfiguration? Too many people around... too risky..."
"Memory modification? There are too many targets, and it's too wide an area. I'd look like a proper Dark Wizard..."
Just as Ian hesitated, the sound of sirens echoed in the distance.
Someone had called the authorities.
More armed personnel were on their way.
(End of Chapter)
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