The Bizarre Wizarding World
Chapter 457 - 316: The Past

The night was profound.

Colin strode quickly along the Academy's road as the chill breeze softly blew.

In such cold weather, the faintest warmth of breath would instantly turn into mist.

Glancing around, he found the broad road unexpectedly barren, with only himself walking alone.

Indeed, he seldom visited the Academy at such a late hour.

Continuing down the road for a while, he arrived at the residence of Atbolde.

As always, it was shrouded by a circle of tall trees, although, upon closer inspection, some signs of damage could still be discerned on them.

Colin tried to take a step forward and felt the familiar resistance... It seemed that Nado had already been restored.

He smiled faintly, used a witchcraft trick, dispelled the barrier, and stepped inside.

Passing through the trees, he entered the garden, which remained a desolate scene.

Looking ahead along the winding path, Colin saw beside the ruins of the original villa, a huge ancient tree stretching out amidst the icy snow.

If not for the stark white snow piled upon it, the lush branches alone would give the illusion that it was still the height of summer.

Atbolde and Lillian stood under the tree, one figure exceptionally tall, the other particularly petite—a stark contrast.

"Master, senior," Colin greeted as he approached.

"Ah, have you finished your tasks?" Atbolde turned and asked with a smile, while Lillian gently nodded her head at him.

"Yes, the School Badge has been altered," Colin replied, his gaze sweeping past Atbolde's towering figure to the colossal ancient tree.

Beneath the tree lay a still and pallid corpse.

It was Marjorie's body, which Atbolde had carefully stored in a Storage Ring during this time.

According to the rules of Black Castle, unless fully convicted, one's personal Storage Ring would not be removed, after all, the Magic Power was confined and the ring could not be used.

Looking upon this person, who had conversed with him not long ago, now reduced to a damaged corpse.

Colin's expression slowly turned somber, and his back involuntarily straightened even more.

No one spoke, and the three of them fell into a solemn silence.

The circle of large trees around the courtyard isolated the outside world and made sounds muted; beyond the falling snowflakes, there was no other noise, utterly quiet.

Emotionally, he didn't have a profound connection with Marjorie, but this farewell—or rather, funeral—was nevertheless the first of its kind he'd attended in this world.

In his heart, there was a curiosity about funeral ceremonies, but even more so, there was sorrow.

In the Wizard World, death came all too easily.

From Blackstone Island to now, one by one, the people around him had died.

Some he knew well, like Erica, but most were just acquaintances, their names even fading in memory.

He had nearly forgotten the concept of a funeral; in his past life, for the majority, when you died, there would still be those to mourn you...

But death was never a trivial word.

Colin's thoughts couldn't help but return to Blackstone Island, and if there was one death that had imprinted itself upon his mind the most, undoubtedly, it was Erica's.

Though he had not witnessed her demise.

—When he encountered Erica in the Wizard Tower's control room, she had already passed away, leaving behind only a ghost born from her remains.

But he had seen her in death.

In that winding cave, Erica's body had long been disfigured; the significant passage of time had not left her corpse to become a "clean" skeleton but a sight too ghastly to describe.

The appearance of decay and the stench, even today he remembered.

Time passed, and eventually, Atbolde spoke slowly:

"Alright since everyone is here, let us begin tonight's first procedure—farewell to Marjorie."

Having said that, Atbolde walked straight over to the side of Marjorie's body and slowly extended his hand.

A faint magical radiance surged within his palm.

The funeral began thus, perhaps lacking the ceremony of an opening, but filled with genuine sentiment.

Lillian silently strode to a spot not far from Marjorie's body, solemnly observing the proceedings.

Seeing this, Colin also moved closer, his solemn expression mixed with a hint of curiosity.

Sussuration—

In the next moment, a faint sound echoed, and the snow and ice within half a meter of Marjorie rapidly melted under an invisible force, revealing the brownish-yellow earth.

The grass seeds dormant in the soil slowly awoke, stretching out one after another, piercing the ground and sprouting tender green shoots.

In an instant, the spot where Marjorie lay was transformed back into a lush green field.

Fresh grass enveloped him and also penetrated his body.

Gradually, as the grass grew longer and longer, a faint pop marked the moment when the first radiant blade of grass grew from Marjorie's body, gently swaying in the wind.

And that blade was merely the overture; soon after, with a swishing sound, more blades of grass, each glowing faintly, emerged one after another.

In the blink of an eye, the body of Marjorie before them sprouted numerous glimmering grass stalks.

Yet this scene, far from being horrifying, bore a certain unconventional beauty.

From a distance, Marjorie seemed to become ethereal, lying amidst the dense grass, as blade after blade overlapped with him, unobstructed.

Even though they sprouted from a corpse, the grass was unsoiled, untainted by any trace of blood.