Chapter 6: Extraordinary Trait—The Butcher’s Instinct

Ever since Ian had received a personal invitation from Dumbledore to study magic at Hogwarts, the past half-month had felt particularly long and agonizing.

The anticipation should have been thrilling. Yet, after a chance encounter with a mysterious black-robed figure when he attempted to visit the Leaky Cauldron ahead of time, Ian had abandoned the idea entirely.

That experience had been enough to remind him of the hidden darkness lurking within the wizarding world.

For all his maturity, his soul belonging to a grown adult, he was still just a university student in his previous life. And frankly, that wasn't enough to steel himself against such threats.

So, he had chosen the safest option—staying put in the orphanage, keeping his head down, and immersing himself in study.

[Successfully read Latin text. Language Proficiency +1]
[Successfully read Latin text. Language Proficiency +1]
[Successfully read Roman text. Language Proficiency +1]

At his small wooden desk, Ian flipped through books, occasionally furrowing his brow in concentration. He carefully wrote down unfamiliar words in his notebook, murmuring their pronunciations under his breath.

Self-learning required immense discipline.

Even with an attribute panel at his disposal, knowledge still had to be earned through effort.

Every increase in proficiency meant Ian had truly absorbed something new. Every step forward represented a small moment of comprehension.

But real learning still demanded dedication.

Of course, when a skill actually leveled up, he could feel a rush of clarity—like a sudden enlightenment.

Ian was deep in his studies when—

Knock, knock, knock.

The sound of rapping against wood broke his focus.

Turning his head toward the door, Ian called out, "Come in."

With a soft click, the door swung open.

A girl stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame. Her name was Catherine, and her bright eyes shimmered with anticipation.

"Ian, do you want some chicken drumsticks? The cook said we have extra tonight!"

She held out a drumstick as if offering a precious treasure.

At her feet, a small white cat darted into the room, moving with a nimble grace. It leaped onto the desk, crouching slightly as if ready to pounce.

Catherine yelped in surprise, stumbling back. But once she realized it was only the cat, her expression twisted into one of annoyance.

"Gilly! You little troublemaker!"

Ian sighed, giving the cat a light tap on the rear before scooping it up. He held the creature in his arms and turned to reassure Catherine.

"There. I've disciplined him."

She pouted slightly but eventually nodded, though her glare at the cat remained.

Ian chuckled. "Gilly didn't mean any harm, Catherine. Relax."

She huffed but relented. "Fine, Ian."

Children were always quick to get upset—and just as quick to move on.

Moments later, her curiosity got the better of her.

"Ian, when do we get to go to the magic school?"

He smiled at her enthusiasm.

It was understandable. Who could resist the allure of magic?

But still, he needed to remind her of their agreement.

"Catherine, remember our promise—this has to stay a secret."

She immediately covered her mouth with both hands. "I—I didn't mean to—"

Ian laughed. "It's fine. Just between us, it's okay. But you'll have to wait a few more years before you can go."

Determined, Catherine nodded. "Then I'll eat lots and grow up faster! Ian, let's go find Norn and the others to play!"

Looking into her hopeful eyes, Ian sighed in amusement.

He glanced at his desk, where his language book lay open.

His original plan had been to push his Language Proficiency skill to level 5, unlocking an extraordinary trait.

But now, with Catherine breaking his rhythm, he no longer felt like studying.

Forcing himself to continue at this point would only lower efficiency.

With that in mind, Ian decided to check his status panel instead.

---

Name: Ian Prince
Class: Bloodline Sorcerer
Mana: Level 4

Skills:

Linguistic (Lv. 4): 500/800
Anatomy (Lv. 5): 64/1600
Hand-to-Hand Combat (Lv. 3): 85/400 Psychology (Lv. 6): 42/3200

Extraordinary Traits:

Psychology: Mind Perception

Anatomy: The Butcher's Instinct

---

Over the past few days, his Language Proficiency had grown significantly, nearing level 5.

The other skills, however, had stagnated. Without performing readings for people, his Psychology skill remained unchanged. Likewise, Anatomy hadn't improved due to his lack of practical experience.

There were only so many hours in a day.

But right now…

Ian closed his skill window, set down the cat, and smiled at Catherine.

"Alright, let's go."

Gilly, now freed, leaped off the desk and darted out of the room. Ian and Catherine followed suit.

Outside, the orphanage courtyard was bustling. Children were kicking around a ball, their laughter ringing through the air.

When they spotted Ian, their faces lit up.

"Ian! Come play with us!"

"No way! He should be on our team—then we'll definitely win!"

Before long, the kids were arguing over which side he should join.

Ian sighed, shaking his head in amusement.

"Alright, alright. I'll be the goalkeeper."

The game began.

And for a while, Ian allowed himself to forget about magic, skills, and the approaching departure to Hogwarts.

The orphanage had been his home for years.

And now, he was running out of time here.

That night, beneath a sky speckled with stars, Ian lay in bed.

The day had been fulfilling, but his mind still lingered on one thought.

"When will I finally get to practice magic?"

Fatigue soon overtook him.

His consciousness drifted.

The sky was breathtaking—clear and vast, like a polished sapphire. White clouds, soft as cotton candy, floated lazily, while golden sunlight spilled through gaps in the canopy, creating dappled patterns of light.

Ian had entered the Ethereal Realm again.

He stretched his hands outward, inhaling deeply, letting the tranquility of this world wash over him.

Beneath the sky lay a fairytale-like forest, its trees lush and alive. Small animals darted through the undergrowth, butterflies and bees hovered over blooming flowers, and a winding stone path led deeper into the woods.

At the end of the path—darkness.

No sign of Ariana this time.

Ian was used to it by now. The flow of time in the Ethereal world was unpredictable.

Sometimes, a few minutes in reality equaled days here. Other times, months passed in mere seconds.

Last time had been a lucky coincidence.

With steady steps, Ian followed the path. The creatures of the forest watched him, their eyes full of silent curiosity. Eventually, the trail led him to a secluded valley town.

A quaint little place—complete with an old post office, a quiet tavern, and a towering church.

Yet, despite its picturesque appearance, the town was… lifeless.

Shops stood abandoned, their doors shut tight. No movement, no voices.

"A town of the dead."

Ariana had once mentioned this place. It had been home to people, once. But they had all moved on—whether by fulfilling their lingering regrets or simply forgetting them.

Ian sighed and continued walking.

He reached Ariana's house.

But—

She wasn't there.

Frowning, he peered through the window. Nothing stirred inside.

For the first time… Ariana was gone.

"Where could she have gone?"

Just then—

A voice, smooth and regal, pierced the silence.

"Oh? A heartbroken little boy, waiting for that pitiful girl?"

Ian spun around.

A woman stood before him—beautiful, elegant, and utterly out of place in this forgotten town.

She wore a flowing black robe, trimmed with gold, her sharp eyes glinting like onyx.

And her presence alone sent a chill down Ian's spine.