Chapter 35: Illusory Step Spirit Ascension Scroll

Harry ultimately didn’t truly pass out; he strained to keep his eyes wide open, trying to discern his surroundings, but saw only mist.

More precisely, it seemed the mist had not yet formed the scenery around him. The floor he lay on was nearly blank—a simple, flat surface capable of bearing weight.

Amid the mist, he recognized two figures: one was Quirrell, clutching his abdomen and stumbling toward him; the other was Zhang Qiu, standing before him, sword in hand.

“Crucio!” Quirrell shouted in fury, but Zhang Qiu remained unmoved.

“What?” He stared in surprise at his wand, then trembled as he pointed it at his own abdomen, “Episkey!”

Harry was astonished to discover that in this fantastical realm, all spells seemed to have failed.

“Stupefy!” Quirrell tried another spell, “Expulso! Diffindo!”

“Damn it! Finite Incantatem! Terminus Magica!” Quirrell screamed every spell he knew, whipping his wand wildly—but all efforts were futile. Now trapped in an unknown realm, his prized magic rendered useless, and still bearing gunshot wounds, he was helpless.

Quirrell looked insane—his fear and despair had twisted into hysteria. He charged at Harry recklessly, eyes bloodshot.

Zhang Qiu silently rushed forward, swinging her longsword. Though its once-chilling blade now held no special power, mere sharp steel was enough to make Quirrell hesitate and flinch.

The Philosopher’s Stone pressed against his waist continued to glow faintly warm; Harry felt a surge of strength and struggled to rise—when his foot kicked something.

It was his Invisibility Cloak.

“Perfect—I’ve got another card,” Harry thought, wrapping himself in the cloak and vanishing into the mist.

Quirrell flailed uselessly in all directions, trying to grab the invisible Harry—but failed. Weak and desperate, he pulled out his Portkey, intending to return to the Dark Lord.

But the Portkey failed. His last hope gone, he collapsed to the ground, gasping in despair.

Harry pulled Zhang Qiu along; she looked dazed and vacant—he suspected her sanity had been drained by the spell. But remembering the train incident, he knew this state would gradually pass.

Harry dragged Zhang Qiu far away, until Quirrell was out of sight, then sank to the ground, panting heavily.

He gazed at the girl whose left eye rolled left and right eye rolled right—still, even with most of her reason gone, she remembered to draw her sword and stand before him. In that moment, he had not the slightest doubt about their deep revolutionary friendship.

“Twinkle, twinkle, little star…” Harry softly hummed a nursery rhyme. Zhang Qiu’s gaze slowly returned to normal. He couldn’t tell how long it took—perhaps ten minutes, perhaps only seconds; time here felt strange.

“Seekers of the Dao aspire; those who follow the Dao are immersed…” Hearing her recite the mantra for restoring sanity, Harry finally relaxed. He waited quietly as Zhang Qiu recovered.

“Why didn’t you cast a spell!” As soon as she regained her senses, Zhang Qiu punched Harry hard, “If you’d just used Expelliarmus, Quirrell would’ve dropped right there!”

“Uh… what are you talking about?” Harry was bewildered.

“I saw you knew Expelliarmus, so I signaled Ron to counterattack,” Zhang Qiu explained her plan. “At the instant I threw the Philosopher’s Stone, Neville would leap up from behind, you’d draw your wand and strike from the front. Then Ron and Hermione would drag Neville away while you slipped off under the Invisibility Cloak.”

“If you’d just cast Expelliarmus, I wouldn’t have had to finish reciting the incantation!” She glared at him, furious.

“I was thinking,” Harry explained, “I didn’t know if an attack would even work. I wanted to protect the Philosopher’s Stone first—as long as it was safe, Neville would be safe.”

“By the way, you still haven’t told me how you got here.”

“I thought Pei Xu was the double agent from the prophecy, so after sending him away, I let my guard down and focused on the exam,” Zhang Qiu said apologetically. “I saw Hannah in the corridor—she was crying terribly, saying you were in danger.”

“The professors were all gathered grading papers,” Zhang Qiu explained why they hadn’t come sooner. “So I came ahead. When I arrived, I saw Ron and Hermione arguing—there was only one potion that could pass through the flames, and both wanted to rush in to save their friend.”

“In the end, I had them wait by the door under Disillusionment Charms while I drank the potion and slipped in invisibly,” Zhang Qiu glanced around. “Because I had a spell that could rescue both you and Neville.”

“And you also banished Quirrell,” Harry said cheerfully. “That’s your secret spell—amazing effect.”

“Don’t celebrate too soon,” Zhang Qiu sighed. “This is the Illusory Dream Realm—every spell here fails, including Portkeys and any teleportation magic.”

“What realm?”

“The sixth secret spell: Illusory Step Spirit Ascension Scroll,” Zhang Qiu said. “It transports us to this misty space. My master calls it the Illusory Dream Realm—he warned me that within it, everything is bizarre, and once lost, you’ll never find your way back.”

“I still remember which way we came,” Harry said cautiously.

“Useless—we were teleported in,” Zhang Qiu said helplessly. “To return, we must either find the portal connecting this realm to the real world, or be called back by someone close to us in the real world.”

“Didn’t you try other spells?” Harry sighed. “I thought your lightning spell might have worked.”

“I had only one chance to act,” Zhang Qiu said. “Like you, I cared more about preserving everyone’s lives than defeating Quirrell. If Neville failed, I’d have teleported only the five of us—leaving Quirrell behind in Hogwarts. The Stone would still be in your hands; he’d still lose.”

“When I saw Quirrell get shot, I shrank the teleportation range to include him,” Zhang Qiu caressed her sword. “That way, in the Illusory Dream Realm, he’d be trapped with his gunshot wound, waiting to die. And my sword still counts as half a weapon—enough to handle his final lunge.”

“Strange,” Harry picked up the Invisibility Cloak, watching his hand vanish. “The Invisibility Cloak still works.”

“That’s indeed remarkable,” Zhang Qiu said with relief. “With this, our chances of surviving until someone calls us back increase greatly.”

“Your master will call us, right?” Harry sounded uncertain. “But why say ‘survive’?”

“The Illusory Dream Realm is extremely dangerous…” Her words were cut short as both heard a rustling. Harry looked up—a colossal dragon, entirely composed of bones, flew overhead.

“What exactly is this place?” Harry whispered urgently from beneath the cloak.

“I don’t know—it seems an unknown magical domain,” Zhang Qiu whispered. “Only the most powerful wizards are permitted to explore the unknown. We shouldn’t have come here.”

“Let’s walk around,” Harry said eagerly. “With the Invisibility Cloak, we can pretend to be ‘the most powerful wizards.’”

The secret realm seemed vast and empty. They walked a long way without seeing anything—only endless white mist.

“I wish I could have some pumpkin juice,” Harry licked his lips, weakly.

The moment he spoke, a mummy appeared not far ahead—wearing a giant pumpkin head, dragging a club, wandering aimlessly.

Both held their breath, terrified, crouching beneath the cloak until the mummy passed.

“Alright, if I can’t have pumpkin juice, at least some water,” Harry ventured.

Immediately, a lake appeared before them.

“In the Illusory Dream Realm, distance isn’t measured in steps, but in thought,” Zhang Qiu mused. “Whatever you think of, you’ll reach quickly.”

“Did your master say that?” Harry walked slowly toward the lake.

“No—I guessed it myself,” Zhang Qiu said. “My master told me nothing about this place.”

“Well, at least I can drink some water,” Harry reached the lake’s edge, bent down, and reached for the water.

The corpse beneath the water suddenly opened its eyes.

Harry spun and ran, pulling the cloak tightly over them both as they cowered beneath it, trembling at the churning, boiling surface of the lake.

“I hope your master left something behind,” Harry said, still shaken. “An exit. A supply point. Anything.”

“I’ll try—I’ll recall my master…” Zhang Qiu closed her eyes and walked in one direction. But no matter how long they walked, they saw only endless white mist.

“Zhang, did your master leave nothing behind in the Illusory Dream Realm?” Harry’s voice trembled.

“Yeah, it’s strange,” Zhang Qiu still didn’t grasp the gravity.

“If your master knew how to summon someone back from the Illusory Dream Realm,” Harry whispered, “and also knew how to enter it…”

“Did he really leave nothing?” Zhang Qiu began to panic. “Or… did he never enter at all?”

“I hope your master carefully erased all traces,” Harry forced a smile. “Not because he knew he couldn’t return, and thus never dared to come in.”

“Maybe only my master knows the summoning spell. Let me try recalling my master’s junior brother,” Zhang Qiu insisted.

They walked further—but still saw nothing. Now they were truly terrified.

Because it meant Xuan Jun had no way to summon anyone back.