Chapter 463: The Magic of Belief

A black cat opened its eyes from the bright mist.

The mist here was unlike any mist any wizard had ever seen.

It was not that the surrounding scenery was shrouded in vapor like clouds, but that the vapor-like clouds had not yet formed the surrounding scenery. The ground beneath the black cat seemed white—not hot, not cold—merely an existence, a flat, empty thing.

It turned its head and saw a large, dilapidated Victorian-era building standing there.

Around the large Victorian building, broken streets gradually extended outward.

The streets had originally been short, ending just near the black cat’s paws, but now they had completely enveloped the Victorian building and revealed faint, blurry shops.

The black cat gazed at them for a moment with quiet curiosity, then turned its attention to its own fluffy chest.

There, a tuft of silver-white fur rested, along with a faintly outlined rune stone.

Nothing else.

The black cat visibly sank into disappointment.

The Resurrection Stone had not been brought in—why?

If the Threshold did not allow items to be brought in, why was the empty rune still here?

If the Threshold permitted items to pass through, why not the Resurrection Stone?

The black cat felt intense curiosity, and it knew that perhaps someone could answer its questions.

So it set off, and as it ran with graceful agility, the tuft of silver-white fur on its chest grew larger—not because more fur had appeared, but because the black cat itself had grown.

Time in the Threshold seemed to slow, and it passed for an unknown length.

Perhaps because the black cat had walked far enough, or perhaps because it had stayed long enough.

He saw several wooden cottages, each differing in appearance but all sharing one common feature: a small door.

Sometimes words were written above them: 【Waiting for Lucky Knock】, sometimes simply: 【For the Lucky Black Cat】.

Ink-dyed Cloud Embroidery’s cat-leopard head filled with confusion—what were these?

What were these houses?

What had it done to bring it to a place where more wizards gathered, even though no wizards were inside these cottages?

And stranger still—what did these words mean?

Lucky Black Cat—was that what it thought it was?

Ink-dyed Cloud Embroidery’s cat-leopard shook its head, puzzled, and passed through.

More time passed in travel.

It arrived at a small cottage.

Smoke curled steadily from the chimney; the wooden walls bordered a front yard blooming with flowers.

Ink-dyed Cloud Embroidery’s cat-leopard vanished; a black cat stepped naturally into the front yard and passed calmly by several peculiar objects placed before the gate.

—A rusted sword, a variety of colorful plants, a finely crafted staff.

The black cat entered the garden, where raised pumpkin vines hung copper-bottomed pots.

Inside the pots, curved ferns and vines dangled; as the black cat passed beneath them, they once again tried to groom its fur.

Observing, observing, the black cat reached the wooden door, raised its paw, and knocked—ignoring the small door below and the sign reading “For Black Cat Only.”

It was a wizard, not a real cat.

The door creaked open, revealing a pine tree adorned with colored lights; beneath the lights lay a fluffy orange-yellow rug, upon which rested a round stool and a plush toy of a black cat.

“Greene, I’m so glad to see you.”

Helena said with delight.

The black cat leapt onto the round stool; a teapot floated over and poured steaming pear juice into the round cup before it.

The black cat’s whiskers blurred with steam; its ears twitched.

Lady Helena seemed more lively than ever—before, she would never have said such things.

“You found us again. It seems we’ve been pulled back onto the same thread.”

Rowena was playing a peculiar game of chess with Helena; Wizard Sean instantly recognized it as the Oddball Wizard Chess.

How had Oddball Wizard Chess come here?

“You lost, Rowena. Your wisdom doesn’t always serve you.”

Helena laughed triumphantly, for Rowena’s knight had knocked her king off the board; the king screamed and fell, headless and senseless.

“What a failure of a king—even his own knight wants to kill him…”

Rowena sighed.

“What I’m more curious about is—who made this wizard chess? Who designed a game of pure chance for wizards?”

“Who knows?”

Helena stole a glance at the black cat, waved her arm lightly, and began gathering the pieces.

“Victory is so hard-won—luck is on your side, dear Helena.”

Rowena said with a smile.

“Then my student, dear Mr. Lucky Black Cat, what question lingers in your mind—one even memory cannot answer?”

The black cat had already leapt to the edge of the chessboard; it confirmed—this was indeed Oddball Wizard Chess.

“You seem confused. This board was brought by Helena.”

Rowena Ravenclaw said.

“Teacher Rowena, can items freely pass through the Threshold?”

The black cat asked.

“No.”

Rowena said.

“Then…”

The black cat’s tail stopped swishing.

“Look at your empty rune—is it truly empty?”

Rowena smiled mischievously.

The black cat hurriedly looked at its Soul Artifact.

“Isn’t it shaped like a little cat?”

Rowena’s smile widened.

The black cat rubbed its eyes with its paw, astonished to find the empty rune had truly changed shape.

“You trust her too much!”

Helena interrupted Rowena, and at once, the empty rune reverted to its stone tablet form.

“That’s not funny.”

The black cat seemed to understand something, curling up to gaze at its empty rune.

“She loves to play tricks… isn’t that terribly annoying…”

Helena sat beside the black cat.

“Greene, let me tell you—if you firmly believe an object exists, it will be brought into the Threshold.”

The black cat’s ears twitched.

“So if you waver, the Threshold will take away your magic.”

Helena explained slowly.

“I understand, Helena.”

The black cat’s guess was confirmed.

He could not help but recall the rare description of the Threshold in the original text:

“Harry wished he were wearing clothes. The moment the thought formed in his mind, a robe appeared nearby. He picked it up and put it on: soft, clean, warm. How strange—it simply appeared, the moment he thought of it…”

What a wondrous place.

Perhaps the most magical place of all.

Wizards’ wisdom and emotion flow here naturally, transforming into strange, shimmering mists;

Wizards’ magic is fully converted into the power of belief—when a wizard believes in themselves, when their faith is unwavering, magic is born.

“How do I believe?”

The black cat found its final question.