togophonebook Chapter 151: Three Shocking Events! The Tomb of King Arthur!
Chapter 151: Three Shocking Events! The Tomb of King Arthur!
Chapter 151: Three Shocking Events! The Tomb of King Arthur!
A sudden wave of drowsiness and fatigue washed over me.
Ian couldn't help but rub his eyes and yawn several times. Nick Flamel turned to look at him, as if he had also noticed the little wizard's sudden listlessness.
"How many days has it been since you last slept?" Nick Flamel noticed that Ian's dark circles had gotten even bigger, and he wasn't sure if it was just his old eyesight failing him.
"No, I slept really well last night. I make sure I get at least a few hours of sleep every day, and I only stay up late occasionally. I know how harmful staying up late is to growing taller."
Ian felt his head was heavy, and his vision was becoming blurry. This feeling wasn't just like playing games all night; it was also somewhat like the feeling of low blood sugar.
The activity of magic also decreased significantly.
He didn't know the reason for this situation, only that it must be related to the legendary figure in his mind, but the legendary figure that had absorbed magic power had now fallen into silence. No matter how Ian tried to inject magic power into it on his own, the legendary figure remained unresponsive, like a stagnant pool.
"You're right, he's still growing, so he should definitely stay up less at night." Despite saying that, Nick Lemais opened his drawer to get Ian some energy drinks.
however.
"Coo coo coo~"
The Bowtruckle, which had previously hidden in the drawer, had just finished drinking Nicolas Flamel's last bottle of stock. It dropped the empty bottle and quickly climbed up Flamel's arm to the top of his head. It leaped down, bounced a few times on the ground, and then ran off towards the door.
Ian wanted to catch it.
Perhaps it was because Nicolas Flamel's potion was of such high quality that the little feet of the Tree-Protecting Bowtrus left afterimages and quickly disappeared around the corner of the corridor outside the gate.
"Shouldn't a tree-protecting bend be considered dangerous?"
Ian hesitated, wondering if he should pursue the Bowtruckle. As a Class XX magical creature according to the Ministry of Magic, it wasn't considered dangerous, and he wasn't worried about the possibility of a Bowtruckle murder.
This amazing creature is actually quite timid. The Bowtruckle is a peaceful and extremely shy animal that has primarily fed on insects for many years.
Only when the tree they inhabit is threatened will they muster their limited courage to pounce on loggers or outsiders who try to destroy their home.
The largest victims of the Bowtruckle's claws are usually woodpeckers. When their territory is violated or disturbed, the Bowtruckle will use its long, sharp fingers to dig into the woodpecker's eyes.
"I think that little guy just doesn't want to stay near you. Don't worry, Bowtruckles don't usually attack humans. It probably just wants to run back to its home." Nicolas Flamel didn't pay attention to the fleeing Bowtruckle; he continued to focus on the rubbings on the table.
"Um?"
Nicolas Flamel wasn't sure if he was imagining things, or if it was the excitement of having a new research target, but he found that his eyesight seemed to have improved.
So much so that the glasses he was wearing at that moment didn't fit quite right—Nico Lemaître, looking slightly puzzled, took off his glasses and rotated the dial to adjust the prescription.
"It seems my passion for alchemy has rekindled my life. I just hope this isn't just a fleeting moment of lucidity." Nicolas Flamel was surprised to find that his hands weren't trembling as much as before.
In the past.
He clearly only stopped shaking when he was performing alchemical work. Nicolas Flamel, slightly perplexed, put his glasses back on and, as he continued flipping through the rubbings, glanced at the young wizard several times with a strange look.
"I was counting on it to plant trees for me, but it ate so many snacks for free in my purse." Ian, who had been standing at the door looking out for a while, walked back to his office somewhat resentfully.
"You can't tame this thing. My magical creature affinity has always been pretty good, hasn't it?" He seemed very concerned about the fact that the Bowtruckle had given him several days' worth of free snacks.
"You can't expect all magical creatures to enjoy being with you, just as you can't expect everyone to trust you."
"This is something even Merlin couldn't do." Nick Flamel chuckled reassuringly to Ian, handing him a small box of pills from the drawer that hadn't been ruined.
"Something to uplift your spirits?"
Ian took the small pill with some surprise, put it under his nose and sniffed it. He could identify a few ingredients, but most of the ingredients were unfamiliar.
He couldn't even smell the complete formula, let alone discern its effects. He could only make some inferences based on the few magical potion ingredients he could smell.
He didn't suspect that Nick Lemaître might have added something to it; only Ian would do something like that. He put the pill in his mouth and smacked it, trying to use his tongue to continue to discern its contents.
however.
The pill didn't give him a chance to taste it at all; it went straight down his throat the instant it entered his mouth, fully demonstrating what it meant to be instantly refined after entering the mouth.
"Smack smack~"
Ian pursed his lips but still couldn't taste anything. However, the pill's effects were indeed very fast, and he immediately felt his spirits lift considerably.
not only that.
The problem of weakened magic power caused by the sudden activity of the Legendary Shadow was instantly resolved, and his magic power even became more active than usual.
"Professor, what kind of medicine is this? Can I learn it?" The little wizard's eyes lit up immediately. This little pill seemed to be even more effective than his Infinite Power Potion.
Nicolas Flamel chuckled and took a sip of water from his teacup.
"Then you'll need a Philosopher's Stone first. Perhaps you'll have your chance in a few years." The old alchemist was perhaps foreshadowing that this was no ordinary person either.
"Philosopher's Stone?"
Ian looked at the huge pile of magic stones he had poured out.
"I'm talking about a truly complete Philosopher's Stone that still possesses life energy." Nicolas Flamel's words startled the young wizard for a moment, then his eyes widened immediately.
"You gave me an elixir of immortality?! I always thought it was some kind of potion!"
Ian looked at the small wooden box that Nick Flamel still had placed on the table with a questioning tone. The alchemical runes engraved on it were often used to store potions.
Perhaps it can be seen as a magical version of the "refrigerator" manufacturing process.
"Hahaha, you should have felt it by now, the vibrant life force it contains." Nick Lemaître's words, though not a direct answer, were tantamount to an admission.
Ian swallowed hard.
"I remember you didn't have many elixirs of immortality left, and you just casually gave me one. You might lose several months of your life because of this."
He actually regretted taking Nicolas Flamel's pills without asking clearly beforehand.
To be honest, he'd rather see Nick Flamel live a little longer than feel a sense of vindication. After all, the departure of an alchemist of this caliber to the Enchanted Realm would be a loss for wizards worldwide, and the young wizards at Hogwarts taking alchemy would lose an invaluable, treasured professor prematurely.
"The development of the field of alchemy may be set back by ten years as a result!" Ian's words were not an exaggeration at all. Many people may have experienced the irreplaceable value of a good teacher.
"It's not as exaggerated as you say." Nicolas Flamel shook his head with a chuckle. "It's just an elixir of immortality. For me, it's actually a win."
He gave the young wizard a deep look, then flipped through the rubbings again. Ian had copied quite a few tower runes from memory.
There was a very thick stack of them.
"I actually have my own selfish reasons; I want to use your knowledge to decipher these magical runes."
Ian thought that Nick Flamel's words were probably because Ian had found these tower runes for him, and that Flamel felt he could settle one regret before he died.
Nick Lemaître smiled again but did not respond.
"Do you know what era this magic script comes from?" Ian was full of energy, so he curiously leaned over and saw Nick Flamel place the rubbing under a small floating light source.
Regarding this issue...
Nick Lemaître also had his own judgment.
"It comes from before the time of Merlin. Perhaps some of this kind of magical script was still in use during Merlin's time. The fragment I obtained is from Merlin's manuscript."
Nicolas Flamel's answer did not disappoint the young wizard; he was indeed able to determine the era in which the runes were used. However, Ian still could not determine the age of the tower based on this information.
to be frank.
After Ian returned to the mortal world, he also did a lot of research.
however.
The catastrophe that Ian witnessed, which destroyed a nation, is not recorded in the most detailed books of magical history; it is as if it never happened in history.
"Hmm, this should be something from around the time of Merlin." Ian thought of the relief he saw in the tower, which clearly recorded the story about his cheap senior sister.
only.
Since Ian didn't know exactly how many years Morgan had lived, he couldn't accurately determine the era in which the tower was located during Morgan's life.
Perhaps I could ask Professor Morgan for details when I go to the Mystic Realm, but since I've only been there once, there's still a considerable cooldown period before my next visit. The cooldown remains the same; the expectation of reaching the limit of magical power and being able to enter whenever I want hasn't materialized.
"Didn't you find any information about the tomb's occupant in the grave you dug? I think that someone who could place so many magic stones in a tomb must have been an indelible figure in history."
Nick Lemaître, somewhat puzzled, responded with a question.
He didn't ask where Ian's grave was, nor did he consider having Ian take him there; he understood the proper boundaries and limits in conversation.
It is extremely rude and offensive for a wizard to share their opportunities with others.
"Perhaps?"
The image of the black-robed skeleton flashed through Ian's mind, but he didn't think the black-robed skeleton was the true master of the tower. The skeleton seemed more like a creature imprisoned within it.
Yes, living things.
It wasn't the kind of sinister undead that Ian discovered not long after bringing the black-robed skeleton back; the black-robed skeleton even possessed a vitality more vigorous than that of a living person.
"Why is there now this 'maybe' theory?"
Nick Lemaître was somewhat puzzled by Ian's choice of words.
"I found a guy inside who was chained up... but he told me he had amnesia, so I probably won't find many clues from him."
Ian gave an honest answer.
His remarks shocked Nick Lemaître.
"A guy still alive? He's lived for at least several thousand years?" Nick Flamel's gaze returned to the Philosopher's Stone. He probably thought that the guy Ian encountered was surviving by the power of the Philosopher's Stone.
"I suppose it's still alive? I've placed it in the Room of Requirement. Perhaps you could go and see it when you have time? I don't dare take it around, and I can't keep it inside either."
Ian then took out his money pouch, and if you looked closely, you could see that the edges of his money pouch had been torn and then repaired.
The reason for this was that Ian tried to stuff the black-robed skull into the bag, but the money bag cracked as soon as he pressed the skull's head in.
If Ian hadn't pulled out the black-robed skeleton quickly enough, the money bag, which had taken so long to expand to more than half the size of Hogwarts, would have been completely destroyed.
"You even brought that old stuff back to the school..." Nicolas Flamel's throat bobbed a few times, and he couldn't help but feel the same doubts that many school professors had.
With such audacity, why didn't this guy go to Gryffindor?!
"That's one of the reasons I came to see you." Ian finally seized the opportunity, rolled up his sleeves, and revealed the contract runes hidden on his arm.
"this……"
Nick Flamel leaned over for a look, and the inscriptions, completely different from those in the Ancient Tower runes, made him instinctively cover his eyes and grab Ian's arm.
His grip was tight, but not very strong. After all, as a man over six hundred years old, his physical functions were severely impaired, and no matter how excited he was, he couldn't possibly unleash much force.
"It should be a magical oath, somewhat similar to our wizards' Unbreakable Spell, but more complex and intricate, and with much greater binding force and effectiveness." After staring at the hidden inscription on Ian's hand for a long time, Nick Lemaître finally spoke slowly in a hoarse voice.
"Many ancient priests' remains have similar marks, but yours is different from all the examples I've seen. It's more like a..."
Nick Lemaître abruptly stopped speaking, remaining silent. His eyes flickered, and his withered hands, gripping Ian's arm tightly, showed no sign of loosening their grip.
"What kind of?"
More than ten minutes passed.
Ian finally couldn't resist his curiosity.
However, his question still went unanswered by Nick Lemaître. This super alchemist, who had lived for over six hundred years, merely touched the inscription on Ian's arm with extreme caution.
"No, actually I don't understand either." He let go of Ian's hand, smiling somewhat embarrassedly, and even scratched his head like a child.
"what?"
Ian never expected that after waiting for so long, he would only get this kind of answer.
He looked up carefully at the top of Nicolas Flamel's head, but he didn't notice that the top of Flamel's head had become pointed. He was a little confused as to why Nicolas Flamel seemed to have dementia.
"I am, after all, just a mortal. I've only lived long enough. I might not even know as much as Albus. You can't expect me to know the answers to everything."
Nick Lemaître spread his hands, looking quite helpless.
That is indeed the case.
"Alright, could you help me study this thing a little?" Ian said, pulling out another piece of paper with the mysterious contract inscriptions that he had copied beforehand.
"Of course, no problem." Nick Flamel did not take the parchment Ian offered, but pushed it back, his tone carrying a hint of dissatisfaction.
"Are you doubting my memory as an alchemist?" Clearly, he meant that he had memorized the inscription on Ian's arm perfectly.
"No, no, of course I don't doubt your memory." Ian decisively took back the parchment, but who knows if he really had confidence in Nicolas Flamel's memory.
After all, he's an old man over six hundred years old...
"Don't worry, I know what you're worried about. In my opinion, this oath contract will not do you any harm, because you are the one in control."
Nick Flamel gave the young wizard a meaningful look, his cloudy pupils flickering slightly. He glanced at the office clock, which reminded Ian of something else.
"I also found this inside." To help Nick Flamel better determine the era of the tower, Ian also brought out Big Ben, which he had previously packed up inside the tower.
The Big Ben, larger than several Ians combined, looked incredibly old and made a dull thud when placed on the ground. Its dial, missing hands, looked weathered and worn.
"??????"
Nick Lemaître was stunned once again.
What's going on lately?! Why are people always coming to him with broken time converters? And they're all ancient artifacts? Wasn't it said that the ancient time converters were all destroyed by the Bureau of Mysteries long ago?!
Where did this huge lump come from?! Nick Flamel leaned over and touched the inscription on it. The crafting system, which was exactly the same as the Tower Runes that Ian had taken out, made him sigh.
"There's a reason why Albus likes you so much. You two are so alike, both of you are the kind of guys who can always find this kind of lousy work to dump on me."
Nicolas Flamel shook his head helplessly, turned around and walked shakily to a cabinet. After rummaging through it for a while, he finally took out an instrument from the bottomless cabinet.
"What is this?"
Ian was drawn to the strange device's appearance. It was as big as a computer, its casing made of a rare magical alloy, its surface covered with intricate openwork carvings that shimmered with a mysterious light in the dim glow, as if each line contained an ancient magical incantation.
Its entire structure is filled with alchemical formulas that Ian cannot decipher. A multifaceted crystal is embedded in one corner of the instrument, its brilliance resembling a gemstone imbued with starlight. The only conclusion Ian can draw is that the gemstone is not only the core of the instrument but also the key to activating its functions.
"I named it the Secret-Seeking Mirror Box." Nicolas Flamel struggled to move the instrument, and Ian wanted to help, but Nicolas Flamel dodged him.
He clearly has a refusal to accept his age.
"Can this thing be used to analyze alchemical creations with unclear effects?" Ian pondered the name of the instrument and asked somewhat uncertainly.
"Yes, that's right. We may not know the individual meanings of these runes, but we can use the methods of our time to analyze the operating principles of these ancient creations."
"After all, most things in this world have commonalities, and runes are no exception. The Creator did not hide any completely different and contradictory rules in our world."
Nicolas Flamel began pulling out a series of long tubes from the [Mirror Box], clearly referencing Muggle technology; a skilled alchemist would never refuse any knowledge that could provide convenience. With slow, deliberate movements, the tubes were connected to the damaged Big Ben.
"Can even a broken creation be analyzed?" Ian admitted that his alchemy skills might still be insufficient, and he was very surprised by the principles of creation as explained by Nick Lemaître.
"You underestimate me too much, little guy." Nick Flamel chuckled softly, the meaning of which was self-evident. It took him more than ten minutes to connect all the pipes to Big Ben.
"Step back a little."
As he bent over, supporting his back with one hand to prepare to start the machine, Nick Flamel gave Ian a reminder, causing the young wizard to swallow hard and feel a little nervous.
"Analyzing creations can be dangerous?" Ian quickly retreated to the edge of the bridge, took out his wand, and conjured a riot shield for himself.
however.
Nicolas Lemaître's reply left him utterly speechless.
"No, I'm afraid you'll be too quick and steal the core of this instrument from me... I seriously suspect you've practically emptied the tomb you found."
Nick Flamel's cautiousness left the young wizard completely bewildered as to how to respond.
"..."
Ian was about to say that he didn't like things that already belonged to someone else, but before he could say anything, he saw Nick Flamel move the prism, and the next moment the [Secret Prism Box] began to shimmer with a rainbow of colors.
Red like flames, blue like the deep sea, green like a forest, yellow like sunlight, purple like the void, silver like moonlight, black like shadows... Suddenly, the gemstones became dazzling and were fixed on a seemingly invisible axis in an incredible way, rotating slowly and steadily, occasionally bursting out with brilliant light that converged in the instrument.
Ian still couldn't understand how the device worked, but he was beginning to understand Nicolas Flamel's wariness; the radiant gem did indeed look dazzling.
Extremely precious.
The seven-colored light instantly converged into a dazzling beam of light, shining directly at the Big Ben clock placed in the center of the office, as if it were exploring the essence of the clock.
Time passed little by little.
Some unintelligible characters began to appear on the [Secret Mirror Box]. They were not magical script, but rather a strange script that even Ian, a master of languages, could not decipher.
"How about that? Can't understand it, can you? This is a language I created myself, and only I can understand it." As Nick Flamel stepped forward to identify it, he couldn't help but proudly show off to the young wizard.
Often, people like him who have lived for a long time enjoy tinkering with things that ordinary people can't understand. Ian had only ever seen the idea of creating a language in the American sitcom "The Big Bang Theory" before he time-traveled. The show mentioned that the creators and fans of a spin-off series had created their own language by referencing other languages.
of course.
Nick Flamel appears to have a clear advantage; his self-created language doesn't reference any existing scripts, a fact Ian, who is fluent in most languages on Earth, is quite certain of.
[Language Proficiency (Level 7): 534/6400]
Just look at Ian's skill level to see how many languages he has learned. He definitely has a lot to say about this, as he spends time learning various languages every day.
"What has this instrument detected?" Ian couldn't understand the self-created language appearing on the [Secret Mirror Box], so he could only lean closer to the instrument and ask Nicolas Flamel.
"Something's a little strange..."
Nick Lemaître did not continue to guard against Ian.
He was carefully interpreting the text.
His expression gradually became somewhat confused and surprised.
"What's strange about this?" Ian observed the structure of the entire instrument. Beneath the glowing prism was a very intricate mechanical device. It resembled a giant vortex, woven from countless tiny gears, levers, and pipes, like a miniature mechanical maze.
"I initially thought it was a time converter, but now it seems... something's not right." Nick Lemaître's expression grew increasingly suspicious.
He looked up at the enormous Big Ben, his cloudy but bright eyes filled with disbelief. "If my instruments and my judgment are correct, it's not a time converter, but a time-capturing device... It can capture a period of time and make that period repeat endlessly."
Hearing such a statement.
The first thing that came to Ian's mind was the time loop that Slytherin had tricked him into, but there was also a part of the power of fate in Slytherin's time loop.
"Repeating the same time loop over and over again? Like... repeating the same day?" Ian was also somewhat surprised, while Nick Lemaître was clearly more confused than him.
"No, no, no, it's not the form you described. The function of this device is to capture a certain span of time and piece together the beginning and end of that time."
"You've heard of the Möbius strip, right? It's roughly like this: before the instrument breaks down, it might only be a few months or a few days before there's no beginning or end... It's like time keeps flowing, it doesn't reset, and people in this cycle don't experience a reset either."
"One year, two years, ten years, a hundred years, as long as this instrument continues to function, then the life within its influence and our perception of time will be no different."
"I don't quite understand why this kind of recycling is necessary for a period of time. You know, maintaining the operation of this kind of equipment is definitely not a simple matter."
Nick Flamel corrected Ian's misconceptions in detail. His instruments and his mind were absolutely brilliant, and he had figured out the essence of Big Ben in such a short time.
"Perhaps...it's to escape some kind of disaster?"
Ian thought that what Nicolas Flamel said must be right. After hearing what Flamel said, he immediately thought of the catastrophic vision he had seen before the tower appeared.
"Hmm...it's certainly possible to avert disaster before it arrives...but has any major event in history ever affected a wizarding community?"
"Ancient Babylon? Atlantis? Lemuria? You shouldn't have left England during your holidays, right?" Nick Lemaître's brows furrowed so deeply they almost formed deep furrows.
"Um... I don't think so?" Ian was a little unsure how to answer. He couldn't point out the location of the Illusory Realm even with the globe.
"..."
Nick Lemaître was speechless at Ian's answer.
He could only turn his attention back to the damaged Big Ben.
"Perhaps we should repair this thing... If we can repair it, we can find out how long a period of time it captured, and we might also discover which era it came from."
Nicolas Flamel was clearly intrigued by the effects of Big Ben; he was eager to know what kind of brilliant wizarding civilization possessed the resources to support the operation of such an alchemical creation.
"These Philosopher's Stones of yours are probably also used as the energy source to keep this thing running." Nick Flamel's judgment did indeed have a bit of merit.
but.
Ian, however, felt that things might not be as simple as Nick Flamel thought. In the illusion he saw, the Philosopher's Stone's role was to maintain the operation of the entire Mystic Tower.
Big Ben is just one part of the mysterious tower.
"Anyway, little guy, you really gave me one surprise after another tonight. I think I genuinely want to figure out the tomb you dug up, just like you do."
Nicolas Flamel used a tool to knock open the surface of Big Ben, and after seeing the intricate structure behind the dial, his gaze lingered on the empty hourglass.
"As expected, it's even more damaged than the time converter Albus repaired for me; not a single grain of Sand of Time remains." Nicolas Flamel's tone couldn't help but carry a hint of disappointment.
"Is this the Sands of Time?" Ian walked back to the desk, looked at the broken pendant that had been placed aside, picked it up and gently shook the sand inside.
The color is wrong.
But the texture and that strange "gravity" really do feel very similar...
"Be careful. I doubt even the Department of Mysteries has much of the Sands of Time left. If you lose it, we'll have to send Albus and his friends to the Department of Mysteries for funding."
"It's also filled with my personal collection." Nick Flamel began disassembling the pipes from Big Ben, and after looking up at Ian, he couldn't help but whisper a reminder.
"Is this enough?"
Ian looked at the sands of time inside with great curiosity, as he had not yet reached this stage in his alchemy training, which he had received from his teacher Morgan.
"Of course it's not enough. Not only is it not enough for Albus, but it's even more lacking for your great bell. The amount of the Sands of Time determines the extent of time we can influence."
After putting away the equipment, Nick Flamel returned and took the damaged time converter from Ian. "However, the Sands of Time is not the problem we need to consider now. The materials needed to repair this time converter are the real issue, and many of these materials have completely disappeared in our time."
"Including your clock too." Nicolas Lemaître's tone was heavy with unspoken weight; he had felt the limitations imposed by the times more than once.
"I do know an alternative formula for creating this kind of magical metal... it can create an alloy called Uru." Ian pointed to the missing corner of the time converter.
"Um?"
Nick Flamel looked at the young wizard with some suspicion.
All I saw was...
Under his gaze.
The young wizard took out a parchment and wrote down an alchemical formula. It wasn't particularly complex, but it filled six parchments with dense writing. He wrote one sheet at a time, and Nicolas Flamel picked it up to look at it. When Ian handed over the last sheet, Nicolas Flamel's expression had completely changed from bewilderment to incredulous horror.
"This... you dug up this grave too?"
Having gained a detailed understanding of Ian's alchemical skills, the only plausible explanation Nick Flamel could come up with for this alchemical formula was the spoils of tomb raiding.
"More or less."
Ian thought for a moment and then nodded.
Mr. Morgan lived in a dreamlike realm, which was inhabited by the dead, much like a graveyard. Rounding it off, he could indeed be considered someone who had been unearthed from a grave.
"Hiss~~~"
Nick Flamel gasped for more than ten breaths. If Ian hadn't caught him and patted his back, he might have collapsed stiffly from the shock.
"Is it too late for me to learn how to dig graves now?"
Even with Nick Flamel's composure and indifference to worldly desires, he was still somewhat regretful for having been too late in realizing the truth after being shocked by the things Ian kept bringing out.
"That was hard work..." Ian recalled the exhaustion he felt when he dug up Tom's family, and his heartfelt words left Nick Flamel speechless.
To have such a harvest.
Let alone physical labor.
He'd be happy to work 24 hours a day!
"By the way, speaking of this time converter... could you take a look and tell me what its connection is to the Sands of Time?" Ian then pulled out a handful of mysterious black sand from his purse.
He really only took out a small handful.
however.
When Nicolas Flamel saw the black sand still slipping from his small hands toward the ground, he finally couldn't hold back anymore. He clutched his chest and fell straight backward abruptly.
Older people sleep quite well, they can fall asleep as soon as their heads hit the pillow... Fortunately, Ian reacted quickly and ran behind Nick Flamel, supporting him with his hands to prevent the alchemist from falling into a baby-like sleep.
"The Sands of Time are a kind of alchemical creation, and the black sand you threw on the ground is the raw material. Their origin is a mystery. My teacher only showed me a few grains once."
After catching his breath, Nick Lemais immediately squatted down and carefully began to pick up the black sand that had slipped from Ian's hand, while Ian's still-developing little hand continued to let sand leak to the ground like an hourglass.
He leaked.
He picked it up.
Seeing a 600-year-old man acting with the same caution as those picking up grains of rice during a famine, Ian simply threw all the black sand in his hand onto the office floor.
He still had a lot, a lot, a lot... a lot in his purse.
"What are you doing?"
After Ian helped Nicolas Flamel pick up the black sand from the ground, he noticed that Flamel didn't bother with it but went straight to the table where he was making things and started working on it.
Nicolas Flamel slowly took out a series of seemingly random yet mysterious items from a weathered wooden box beside him: rusty iron blocks, gem fragments shimmering with strange light—as his hands began to move nimbly.
The room was gradually enveloped in the clanging sounds and intense heat characteristic of metal smelting. It was an absolutely artistic alchemy scene, and soon Nicolas Flamel could be seen forging several prototypes.
These molds came in various shapes; some resembled sharp shovels, while others looked like delicate crowbars. He looked up and answered Ian's question as he drew magical runes on them.
"You must have dug up Merlin's grave, right? You must have, you definitely... You dug up Merlin's grave, and I'll dig up Arthur Pendragon's. I happen to know exactly where Arthur Pendragon's grave is."
"He used to have many wizard followers, so there must be good stuff in the tomb." Nicolas Flamel's voice was firm and resolute; he was clearly deeply shocked.
"ah!!?"
Ian then realized what Nick Flamel was crafting—tools for tomb raiding! As the runes continued to be drawn, one tomb raiding tool after another gradually took shape. Their surfaces gleamed with a cold metallic luster under the dim light, and they were even automated tomb raiding tools that could move on their own without needing to be used by anyone else!
"No, no, no! You're too old for tomb raiding! It's dangerous! There's poisonous gas! Traps! Quicksand! And extremely dangerous curses!"
"And there are mummies, ghosts and spirits, gargoyles and hellhounds, a mirrored maze, elemental storms, giant-headed corpse fetuses, blue-eyed fox corpses, and sea monkeys and forbidden women!"
This can be seen from Ian's words, which were intended to intimidate Nick Lemaître.
He was genuinely panicked.
no way.
If Nicolas Flamel were to actually dig up King Arthur's grave, how would he have the face to meet the people of the Enchanted Realm? Morgan might very well hang him up and give him a good whipping.
"If you can do it, why can't I?"
Nick Lemaître showed no signs of stopping.
One automated tomb raiding tool after another was created in his hands.
The craftsmanship is exceptional.
Moreover, its speed is comparable to that of a ruthless alchemy machine.
"I'm different! Different! My family has been in this business for generations! We have unique skills! I know Eastern magic! Feng shui, dragon vein searching, and geomancy!"
"There are also the Mountain-Moving Armor-Splitting Technique, the Kui Xing Kicks the Dipper, the Two-Finger Cave-Probing Technique, and the Tomb-Slaying Finger. It doesn't matter if you don't understand the meaning of the names; you just need to feel the awe-inspiring and mysterious atmosphere they evoke."
Ian had no idea that he would cause Nick Lemai such a shock.
"Huh? Isn't your family a potion maker for generations?" Nick Flamel clearly didn't believe Ian's nonsense; he had never heard of the magic the little wizard was talking about.
"Starting from my generation, my descendants will all learn my skills, so wouldn't that be generation after generation..." Ian offered a somewhat guilty explanation.
He quickly stopped Nicolas Flamel, who was still planning to create some other props, and then critically confiscated all the tools Flamel had made for the crime.
It was all a coincidence.
It wasn't that the little wizard deliberately waited until Nicolas Flamel finished drawing the last strand of runes before rushing up.
"Ha, eating alone! And guarding your food!"
Nick Flamel, seemingly losing interest, tossed the last tool in his hand to Ian. The young wizard had no idea how to respond to the old man's unpredictable words.
"Look, I've already shared all my hard-earned harvest with you, so why should you suffer any more? We young people can handle the hardship."
Ian was genuinely worried that Nick Flamel would abandon his alchemy professorship and become a tomb raider.
"What kind of suffering are you talking about? Is this what you call suffering?"
"Fate is a very loyal thing. If it makes you suffer when you're young, you'll definitely suffer even more when you're old... Look at Albus."
"When I met him, he was just a twenty-year-old kid, while I had been famous for centuries. I can say that I watched him rise and fall step by step."
"To be honest, I have very few close friends who are much older than me, and Albus is one of those few. Together with him, we captured an iron-bellied creature and discovered twelve uses for dragon blood."
"He was so incredibly talented, which surprised and delighted me. Unfortunately, fate was not as kind to him as it was to me, and dealt him blows that were heavier and heavier with each passing day."
"He's the one who really suffers." Fortunately, Nick Flamel didn't insist and went back to his desk. Ian didn't dare to respond to Dumbledore's assessment.
"Headmaster Dumbledore certainly works very hard."
He could only offer a evasive and feigned ignorance response.
"Why."
Nick Flamel sighed heavily, his gaze returning to the "First Sand" of the Sands of Time that Ian had taken out, as well as the alchemy formula that Ian had recorded.
"However, it seems that fate is fair to some extent. In the end, it did favor Albus and provided solutions to many key problems."
"Perhaps he really can..." Nicolas Flamel stopped abruptly, as if he didn't want the young wizard to know anything earth-shattering so early.
He's already figured it out.
This little guy is incredibly audacious. If he were exposed to such crazy ideas at such a young age, who knows what even crazier ideas Ian would come up with when he grows up.
Everyone else is fine.
This little guy is not only incredibly talented, but he also has an almost inexplicable knack for luck... which is quite frightening. If he decides to do something, probably no one will be able to stop him in the future.
not only that.
And the inscription on the little wizard's arm, and what he felt... Nick Lemaître suddenly understood why Grindelwald was also in this school.
"Leave the things with me. I'll fix your clock, decipher these magical runes, and your contract... You've really dumped a lot of work on me all at once."
"But what can I do? I'm just another one of those busybodies destined to be caught up in the lives of you trendsetters of our time." Nick Flamel seemed a little sentimental, perhaps because he was reminiscing about his past friendship with Albus Dumbledore. He sat back down in his chair and looked rather melancholy.
"Thank you for your help, Professor!"
Seeing that Nick Lemaître wanted to be alone for a while, Ian immediately bowed slightly to express his gratitude, then turned and walked towards the front door.
"No need for thanks. After all, I'm quite interested in these things myself, and... your reward is already quite generous, more so than most recorded gifts in history." Nick Flamel waved to Ian, as if he were burying himself back in studying what Ian had left behind.
And then the little wizard left.
After the gate closed.
He raised his head and looked towards the door Ian had left through.
"I'm really curious what other weird things he might dig up..." Nicolas Flamel seemed to have suddenly become a different person, and his previous sighs and sadness vanished without a trace.
His tone even carried a hint of anticipation—clearly, the older a person gets, the better their acting becomes; Nicolas Flamel's seemingly impulsive creation of a bunch of tools—perhaps only he himself knows the purpose. Those who enjoy entertainment rarely do anything themselves; they mostly enjoy the feeling of watching others have fun.
"Could he have actually dug up Merlin's grave?" After turning his gaze away, Nicolas Flamel looked at the large handful of black sand on the table, and his shock was genuine.
He was genuinely astonished several times by the things the little wizard pulled out one after another.
"Swish swish swish~"
After carefully filling a bottle with all the black sand, Nicolas Flamel did not immediately begin his research. Instead, he took out a piece of paper and sketched a few lines on it.
[Hurry! Quickly!!!]
Nicolas Flamel wrote only one sentence, but used a lot of punctuation. After he finished writing, he sealed the letter and handed it to the house-elf who happened to appear in the office at that time.
"Proro! Go back and hand her over to our mistress. If she's still angry, just tie her up and bring her here. I've discovered a huge secret that even Dumbledore didn't find!"
Nicolas Flamel gave the house-elves some enthusiastic instructions.
"Yes, Master, Prolo will faithfully carry out your orders! However, Prolo cannot kidnap the mistress, but can only offer her suggestions on how to punish you. This has always been effective, and she will definitely be eager to come to Hogwarts." It can only be said that this house-elf is perhaps not yet at the level of Dobby from the Malfoy family.
but.
It was still somewhat rebellious—before giving Nick Lemaître a chance to refute, the house-elf disappeared from the office once again.
"Why!"
Nicolas Lemaître lowered his raised hand.
His apprehension and frustration didn't last long. Soon, after adjusting his mindset, he immediately focused his attention on the magic runes on the table.
"Tsk tsk, I never thought I'd actually end up working." Though he said that, Nicolas Flamel's tone was light, and his analysis was more serious than ever before.
This is truly inspiring.
It wasn't just because of his own love for alchemy.
More importantly, because he saw a certain possibility.
A thousand years later.
He and his wife... perhaps they can see this world one more time.
(End of this chapter)