great-warnovel Chapter 79 The Goldsmith's Legacy
Chapter 79 The Goldsmith's Legacy
Chapter 79 The Goldsmith's Legacy (Fifth update since release)
"That was just a few days before the explosion," Jimmy Wright recalled.
"As always, I come to the basement at night to make Golden Snitch figurines for orders from all over the world, you know that."
This is what my family does.
"But suddenly I heard a chattering sound coming from below. I was startled and rushed downstairs, only to see that my great-grandfather's Golden Thief had activated on its own and was flying up in a stumbling manner."
"At that time, he could still control his body, but he was not as agile as he was during the competition. Instead, he was like a newborn child, adapting to his new body."
Perhaps because Hermione had put away the spirit fire, the Golden Snitch's spirit tentatively approached, circling around her sometimes near and sometimes far, emitting soft cries of "Score! Score! Dribble past! Dribble past!"
"What's his name?" Hermione reached out and gently touched him, feeling a chilling coldness, just like a normal ghost.
"I tell him to score, that's what he always says," Wright chimed in. "Actually, I don't know how he does it."
"I suspect it's because there are too many wizards who love Quidditch, and wizards have powerful hearts. As the world's first Golden Snitch, he bore those powers," he said with considerable certainty.
"Then how did he become like this?" According to Wright, the score was able to control the physical body when it was first born, but now it is a soul, no, a ghost. The two are not the same.
"That was after the explosion." Wright's expression turned sad, as if ghosts were all very emotional, and he seemed to be recalling the scene of his own death like the other ghosts.
"Everything happened too fast. We didn't even have time to react. My mother, my wife, and myself all turned to ashes in an instant. I should have died with them, but because I was thinking about the score of the newly born soul, I stayed behind again in the form of a ghost."
"But for some reason, despite being safely hidden in a secret room and unharmed, he remained weak for over a decade after the explosion, eventually even separating from his original body and appearing as a ghost, like—like..."
"Like he's dead?" Hermione interjected.
"Yes! That's right! It's like he's dead! When a wizard dies, he becomes a ghost, and when the Golden Snitch dies, he becomes a Golden Snitch ghost! That makes perfect sense!" Jimmy Wright said.
"If, according to your theory, the scoring system was created because too many wizards were fanatical about Quidditch, then after the outbreak of war, Quidditch tournaments around the world were almost completely suspended, and the function of flying brooms gradually changed from competition to military use. I think this may be the reason why the scoring system weakened and died," Hermione guessed.
War and death, the interruption of Quidditch matches—these uncontrollable factors have greatly suppressed the desire of the Golden Snitch for the last two generations. Even if they wanted to, they were powerless to do so. Even Hogwarts had a hard time assembling teams from all four houses, let alone the even more adverse external environment.
"If there had been no war, and people's love for Quidditch had continued, perhaps after decades of nurturing, he might have grown into the first wizarding creation with a complete soul."
"This is such a pity. Although it is almost impossible to replicate, this is the closest a wizard has ever come to creating a soul." She shook her head. The current score can only be considered a fragmented soul, probably about the same strength as a kitten or puppy, and its intelligence is also limited.
"Perhaps the creation of souls is the domain of God. God did not allow his birth, so he destroyed Quidditch with war," Wright speculated seriously, as if the destruction of the entire world was due to this little golden bean in his basement.
"So you stayed with him, spending decades in this dark, sunless underground?"
"I occasionally go down to the ground, but this thick fog, or maybe the radiation you mentioned, interferes with my form. It's not a pleasant feeling, and I don't have the ability to pass through it to get to the outside world," Wright said.
It seems that radiation also has some effect on ghosts, which Hermione hadn't expected.
"And then what? What's the purpose of bringing me here?" It can't just be to show the living people the technological achievements of our predecessors.
Wright hesitated for a moment: "I hope you can take him with you."
He looked at the transparent golden thief flying around Yuan Zifei: "I can feel that his soul is different from mine. Death is calling me non-stop. My loved ones are still on the other side, waiting for me to keep my promise."
"As for the score, his soul was young and vibrant. Although he was badly wounded and lost the chance to become smarter, I think he should see the world instead of staying in this dark cellar forever until one day Quidditch is forgotten and he disappears completely."
Wright stared directly at Hermione, his thick-bearded ghostly face serious: "Although you're a fierce little girl and you can use that kind of powerful fire, I can tell you're a good person. You even saved the elf who wanted to kill you. Giving you the points isn't a bad thing."
"And perhaps, if the world can be saved, if Quidditch can be resumed, the scoring system will even become more powerful?"
Hermione scratched her head, glanced at the Golden Snitch flitting about like a puppy, then at Jimmy Wright: "And what about you? If you lose the only thing you cherish, you'll disappear, won't you?"
"That's exactly what I've been waiting for," he said calmly, just as calmly as Dumbledore facing death.
"Alright, I agree. But may I take all the things from your cellar? I'm from the pioneering team of Godric Cliff Street, a settlement established by the descendants of the wizarding residents who once lived here. They want to rebuild Godric Valley."
"Consider it my inheritance for the points. You took my things, so you'd better take good care of him!" The ghost waved his hand dismissively. He had been dead for decades and had long since let go of these things.
"Then, the score is in the score." Hermione turned to look at the Golden Snitch's spirit: "Would you like to become my partner and journey with me?"
She took out the Soul-Capturing Bell, and an idea had just taken shape in her mind. She felt that the chances of success were very high.
"Score! Score!" the Golden Snitch shouted happily. Hermione understood what he meant; it was a shout of agreement, equivalent to voluntarily offering up his ashes.
"Very well, then I need his remains." She saw the antique golden snitch on the pad and held it in her hand. "Then, it will require a considerable amount of energy—" She sensed the radiant stone magic stored in her staff. Although it was enough, perhaps she could play a bigger game.
"If we use the Golden Snitch's main body as the core and absorb all the radiation in the valley, could we make the score even more powerful?"
Hermione pondered as the azure magic circle expanded beneath her feet, and an invisible whirlwind rose from the cellar.