Sensing the change in heaven and earth, Theodore's eyes filled with surprise.
Had he been drawing a Nine Heavens Divine Thunder Talisman or a Samadhi True Fire Talisman, such an omen would have been understandable.
After all, talismans like that could make even Great Zenith Immortals shudder.
But right now, he was only drawing a Clear Mind Talisman.
Even if the Wuzhuang Temple method was extraordinary and this Clear Mind Talisman was far from ordinary, it was still one of the most basic talismans.
How could it cause heaven and earth to change, and even summon the cries of ghosts and gods?
This omen was almost comparable to the legend of Cangjie creating writing.
After a moment, Theodore held his breath and steadied his mind.
No matter what, he had to complete the talisman first.
His finger danced rapidly.
Golden divine blood traced lines across the dragon hide.
Finally, a strand of Essence Sea power flowed into the Clear Mind Talisman.
In an instant, a pure spiritual light shot into the sky.
The rumbling thunder and ghostly wailing above suddenly cleared.
Then, merit lotus flowers descended.
Some fell onto Theodore, making the already dense golden light of merit around him grow even brighter.
The rest entered the Clear Mind Talisman.
In the blink of an eye, the entire talisman radiated golden light and transformed into a golden talisman.
Theodore's eyes widened in admiration.
"This is…"
"A Merit Golden Talisman?"
The Wuzhuang Temple Talisman Arts contained records of such things.
A Merit Golden Talisman was born when heaven and earth infused a talisman with merit. Its power was profoundly mysterious.
Even if an ordinary Flame Talisman became a Merit Golden Talisman, not only would its power increase greatly, it could also recover on its own and even continuously advance.
It might eventually become a Samadhi True Fire Golden Talisman.
But even in the Primordial World, Merit Golden Talismans were almost nonexistent.
Nearly all of them were in the hands of saints.
Even Zhen Yuanzi only knew of their existence. He did not possess one.
Theodore had not expected that his first talisman in the magical world would, by coincidence, become a Merit Golden Talisman.
For a moment, regret flashed through his heart.
"If I'd known this, I would have tried drawing the strongest talisman I currently understand—the Heavenly Thunder Talisman."
"If a Heavenly Thunder Talisman became a Merit Golden Talisman, then given time, it might advance into a Nine Heavens Divine Thunder Talisman. One strike could force even a Great Zenith Immortal to retreat."
But after a moment, Theodore shook his head.
"Obtaining a Merit Golden Talisman is already a tremendous gain. Why be greedy?"
"Besides, if a Clear Mind Talisman received heavenly merit and became a Merit Golden Talisman, perhaps there is a reason."
Theodore narrowed his eyes.
The Clear Mind Talisman specialized in clearing delusions and resisting heart demons.
And in the magical world, heart demons were everywhere. Madness spread beneath everything.
The bloodline of wizards flowed with the aura of Old Ones.
The older and stronger the wizard, the closer they were to madness.
If, before falling into madness, they possessed a Clear Mind Talisman, perhaps they could pull themselves back from the edge and gain one more chance to resist corruption.
If Clear Mind Talismans could be widely distributed, the madness in the magical world might be suppressed to some extent.
Perhaps even the revival of the Old Ones and the return of the ancient age would be delayed.
Maybe that was why heaven and earth favored the Clear Mind Talisman so much.
If this was the reason, then the strange omen when Theodore drew his talisman also made sense.
Magic and madness had always walked together.
The more one used magic, and the stronger one's magic became, the closer one drew to madness.
But talismans could allow people to achieve effects similar to spells without using magic at all.
This was a path that might allow the magical world to break free from magic and escape the shackles of the Old One bloodline.
At that realization, Theodore felt his thoughts suddenly clear.
"Talisman arts are indeed extremely useful to the magical world."
He decided to continue while inspiration was still fresh.
One after another, he drew Divine Movement Talismans, Vajra Talismans, Flame Talismans, and other low-level talismans.
This time, no merit descended, and no new Merit Golden Talisman appeared.
Theodore did not mind.
Looking at the talismans before him, he smiled in satisfaction.
"Although these are only low-level talismans, their effects in the magical world are already far better than many potions, and they have no side effects."
"Stick a few talismans onto someone, activate them with the proper method, and even an ordinary person can instantly become a balanced fighter."
"Most Aurors might not even beat someone enhanced by these."
After drawing these talismans, Theodore felt his understanding of talisman arts deepen further.
"With this, my previous chance of successfully drawing a Heavenly Thunder Talisman was around sixty percent. Now it should be eighty percent."
"Add my current luck on top of that, and it should be almost certain."
Thinking of the Heavenly Thunder Talisman's power, Theodore's heart stirred.
Unlike these low-level talismans, the Heavenly Thunder Talisman was a true entry-level talisman of real power, surpassing many spells.
Its strength still could not compare with Theodore's own methods, but it consumed nothing in battle and could be prepared in large quantities beforehand.
If he threw out dozens or even a hundred Heavenly Thunder Talismans at once, that would also become a powerful method.
Moreover, the Heavenly Thunder Talisman was a simplified version of the Nine Heavens Divine Thunder Talisman. Drawing more Heavenly Thunder Talismans would help him comprehend the higher talisman.
Theodore did not hesitate.
He used all the remaining materials on hand to draw Heavenly Thunder Talismans.
…
At the same time, inside the caretaker's office, Filch was anxiously searching through his letters.
His Kwikspell beginner correspondence course should have delivered this week's letter directly to his office today. It always arrived at this time.
But it was not there.
He had searched again and again. Every corner of the office had been checked.
Still nothing.
Filch's heart slowly sank.
Had the owl delivered it to the wrong place?
That might happen elsewhere, but at Hogwarts, the chance was very small.
Besides, those who enrolled in Kwikspell were Squibs. None of them wanted others to know, so the owls delivering the letters were always extremely cautious.
They would not deliver to the wrong place.
"Then there's only one possibility…"
Filch's face turned pale.
"Someone entered my office, saw my letter, and took it."
"It must have been those little brats who love pranks!"
Filch staggered and nearly fell.
The magical world was extremely prejudiced against Squibs.
If a wizarding family produced a Squib, it brought shame upon the whole family.
And he, Argus Filch, was unfortunately that shame.
Both his father and mother were wizards. Though his family was not as famous as the Sacred Twenty-Eight, it had still possessed some reputation.
Yet they had produced him.
A Squib.
Filch would never forget that summer.
The summer he did not receive his Hogwarts letter.
He would never forget the way his parents looked at him.
Nor would he forget how, from that year onward, relatives whispered behind his back and pointed at him, leaving him unable to raise his head at home.
He could only run desperately from everything.
But where could he run?
He had once gathered the courage to apply for work in shops along Diagon Alley.
But after learning he was a Squib, no one was willing to give him a job.
Eventually, a kind shopkeeper took him in and put him in charge of cleaning.
Filch thought he could work there forever.
But it did not last.
The strange looks and whispers from customers made him feel like he was sitting on needles.
Then one day, a noble witch came into the shop with a little boy.
The moment she saw him, her expression changed. She scolded the shopkeeper furiously.
"You let a Squib work here?"
"How kind of you. But I don't want my child anywhere near a Squib. Who knows if it's contagious?"
Then the noble witch covered her child's nose as if the air itself had turned foul and walked out without looking back.
Just like that, the job Filch had finally obtained was taken from him because of one word.
Squib.
From that day onward, he lived like a walking corpse.
Until Dumbledore found him and offered him a position as caretaker.
It was something Filch had never dared dream of.
Hogwarts.
The sacred hall of magic.
Someone like him was not even qualified to enter it.
But now, he could work there?
From that day on, Filch poured himself completely into his duties. He did everything he could to remain at Hogwarts.
Yet on countless nights, the same nightmare returned.
In his dreams, Hogwarts students and professors covered their noses and looked at him with mocking eyes, silently pinning one "Squib" label after another onto his chest.
He slept less and less.
Rather than risk that nightmare, Filch preferred to stay awake at night and patrol for students sneaking around after curfew.
Perhaps then, he could fulfill his duties better.
Perhaps then, he could remain at Hogwarts forever.
But today, after realizing that the Kwikspell letter exposing his Squib identity had been discovered and taken by a student, the fear that had haunted him for years seized his heart.
I'll be driven out of Hogwarts.
Filch rushed out of his office, desperate to find whoever had taken the letter.
He had to get it back before the matter spread.
But as soon as he left the office and reached the end of the corridor, he saw a scene that made his blood run cold.
His letter had been copied.
Copies were posted all over the corridor.
A group of students stood there reading, pointing, and laughing.
At that moment, the separation between the four houses seemed to vanish.
Of course.
Argus Filch was one of the most hated people in the castle.
Perhaps Snape was also hated, but he was Head of Slytherin, a Potions master, and a powerful wizard.
What was Filch?
A mere caretaker.
Not even a professor.
Before this, he could still intimidate the students with their fear of punishment and keep them from going too far.
But now, his last shred of authority was gone.
Filch knew exactly what children were like.
They were no different from any other children.
At eleven or twelve years old, they were at the age when they most enjoyed stepping on those beneath them.
Once they discovered Filch was a weak Squib beneath them, he would never be able to control them again.
Just like now.
They had already seen him approach.
But instead of scattering in fear like usual, they burst into even louder laughter.
Someone suggested holding a carnival in the castle that night.
"How about a house war?"
"Fireworks, color bombs, streamers filling every corridor!"
"Wouldn't that be bad? What about cleaning afterward?"
"What's the problem? A few Cleaning Charms should do it."
"Unless…"
"Someone doesn't know the Cleaning Charm!"
Another burst of laughter erupted. The students nearly bent over from laughing.
Filch, unusually, did not scold them.
He simply lowered his head, dazed, and returned to his office.
Then he locked the door tightly.
It was over.
Everything was over.
He could no longer remain at Hogwarts.
Even if Dumbledore allowed him to stay, Filch understood one thing very clearly.
He could no longer control these students.
He could no longer do this job.
Filch sobbed quietly.
Then he laughed loudly.
Then he cursed like a madman.
He hated.
He envied.
He loathed.
Why was the world so unfair?
Why could he work a hundred times harder than these children and still be unable to grasp magic?
And they—
These fools who had no idea how fortunate they were—
could waste their time so casually?
Hogwarts was precious to him.
How could they dirty the corridors so carelessly?
How could they leave marks on the walls without concern?
They did not understand.
They understood nothing.
After venting, Filch's expression emptied, as if his soul had been drained away.
Calmly, he opened a drawer and took out the chain he had used many times to frighten students by saying he would hang them up.
In truth, that bloodstained chain had never hung a single student.
Perhaps the only one it would ever hang was a Squib.
Filch threaded the chain through the ring and slowly tightened it around his neck.
…
In front of Theodore, a stack of faintly purple, lightning-marked talismans lay neatly arranged.
Twelve Heavenly Thunder Talisman materials in total.
He had completed eleven.
Only the last one remained.
After successfully drawing the first few, Theodore's grasp of the Heavenly Thunder Talisman had already reached certainty.
This last one needed only one final stroke.
But at that exact moment, his heart suddenly jumped.
The lightning paused.
The talisman material erupted, then was erased by Theodore.
He did not care about the failure.
Instead, he immediately looked at the system screen.
There, his relationship with the "Gatekeeper Boy of Yuxu Palace" was rapidly becoming blurry.
"This is…"
"Filch is in trouble?!"
At this moment, Filch's vision was gradually blurring.
He knew no magic would save him.
Hogwarts protected its students with guardian magic. Unless something absurd happened, it was difficult for young wizards to face true mortal danger within Hogwarts.
But Filch had lived in Hogwarts for so many years, yet he had never truly belonged here.
Hogwarts' protective magic would not protect him.
He would quietly hang himself in this office.
"That's fine too."
"At least I won't have to live in fear anymore."
"In the world of the dead, Squibs and wizards should be no different."
The only regrets Filch had left were his cat, Mrs. Norris, and Theodore.
"The students here all hate Mrs. Norris. Thankfully, Theodore is still here. If I die, Theodore should treat her well."
"What a shame. I haven't said goodbye to Theodore yet."
"That little fellow is probably my only human friend…"
Filch slowly closed his eyes and waited for death.
But the next instant, the chain holding him snapped.
A gentle force lifted him and lowered him to the ground.
Filch opened his eyes in confusion.
The figure before him was Theodore.
Theodore was looking at him seriously.
Filch suddenly felt helpless and ashamed. He lowered his voice.
"Theodore?"
"Listen, I didn't mean to do this."
He gave a self-mocking laugh.
"Everyone knows I'm a Squib now."
"You don't know what those students are like. But I do."
"They're already planning a carnival tonight. They're not afraid of me anymore. Not of a Squib."
"I can't keep working at Hogwarts."
"The meaning of my life is gone."
His eyes turned red.
"I really have no reason to keep living."
"Being born a Squib… that is my sin."
Theodore was silent for a moment.
Then he stretched out his hand.
"Mr. Filch, have you forgotten what I once told you?"
"One day, I would give Squibs the chance to cast spells too."
"Before choosing to end your life, you should at least have talked to me."
"Do you really trust me so little?"
Filch stared blankly at the stack of talismans in Theodore's open palm.
"What… are these?"
Theodore said softly, "This is the path I'm giving you."
"If the path of magic is blocked, then walk another path."
He placed a Flame Talisman in Filch's hand, cut Filch's finger, and let a drop of blood fall onto the talisman.
The next moment, Filch's eyes widened.
He could feel it.
Inside this paper, there was power.
A scorching power.
Then, just as he had done countless times in dreams, Filch instinctively guided the power he had imagined for so many years.
But this time, it was not a dream.
A ball of fire burned in his hand.
Filch froze.
His mouth opened, but no words came out.
He trembled.
Only trembled.
As if Theodore already knew what he wanted to ask, he explained quietly.
"This paper is called a talisman."
"The path I want to teach you is called talisman arts."
"Talisman arts are not magic."
"But they surpass magic."
"What magic can do, talismans can do."
"What magic cannot do, talismans can also do."
"And if this path is walked to its limit…"
"One talisman can reach heaven."
"One may stand fearless before gods and demons."
"And suppress all arts beneath it."
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