Hearing Theodore Ashbourne's request, Dumbledore was genuinely surprised.
In his memory, Theodore had never been this solemn.
Could he really be confident that he could move a man who had already made peace with death?
If it were anyone else, Dumbledore wouldn't believe it.
But if it was Theodore…
After a brief pause, Dumbledore nodded.
"Alright. If you can make Nicolas Flamel reconsider, that would be a good thing."
He then took out a private seal—one he showed only to his closest friends—and stamped it onto a blank envelope.
A faint glint passed through Theodore's eyes.
With Dumbledore's seal, plus Ollivander's seal, and the Longbottom family crest…
Nicolas Flamel would have to at least give the letter a chance.
He wouldn't toss it away without reading.
So the real question was—
How to make Flamel change his mind.
After thinking for a moment, Theodore began writing across the parchment in long, flowing lines—paragraph after paragraph.
As he wrote, he also etched several strange patterns into the parchment.
They looked like inscriptions, yet were unlike ordinary runes.
Only after finishing did he slide the parchment into the envelope, seal it carefully, and call out:
"Hermes."
"Hermes. Deliver this letter to Nicolas Flamel."
"And… you can show him your special qualities too."
At Theodore's words, Dumbledore narrowed his eyes and glanced at the owl.
He had to admit—
This was the most imposing owl he had seen in a century.
Even its feathers carried a metallic sheen, like polished steel.
Even Fawkes—usually proud and aloof—was staring fixedly at Hermes, as if sensing a threat.
Was this Theodore's confidence?
But no matter what…
It was still only an owl.
Dumbledore couldn't make sense of it and could only let out a helpless internal laugh.
This child truly was unpredictable.
In such a short time at Hogwarts, Theodore had already made him stare in disbelief more times than he could count.
Geniuses, it seemed, really did operate beyond ordinary understanding.
Fine.
He would simply wait for news.
At that moment, Hermes lifted his head proudly, spread his wings, and shot out through the office window like an arrow.
A dark-grey blur—
Gone from Dumbledore's sight in an instant.
Devon
At dawn, a brown-haired, middle-aged man in a hooded robe was sipping coffee leisurely.
By appearances, anyone would have assumed he was only in his early fifties.
But his eyes carried deep weariness—an ancient exhaustion, like someone who had seen endless landscapes and lived through countless years.
This was Nicolas Flamel, the greatest living alchemist of the wizarding world.
After finishing his coffee, Flamel spoke into an alchemical device—something like a magical intercom—addressing his wife in the kitchen.
"Perenelle, are you done yet?"
"I think we should go check on the coffins we ordered."
"That's where we'll be lying for the next few hundred years. You know me—I never compromise on mattresses, and I won't compromise on coffins either."
"We should be buried together, so it needs to be a large one. That way, if we feel like getting close in the world of the dead…"
"…it'll be convenient to roll around too."
From the kitchen, Perenelle replied dryly:
"What, in such a hurry?"
"Are you also going to 'stop by' to check the burial clothes?"
"You shameless old man—don't tell me you're ordering some kind of… provocative burial outfit?"
Flamel burst into laughter.
But then Perenelle heard the sound of owl wings from outside the kitchen.
"Nicolas—there's a letter."
Flamel shook his head immediately.
"Not reading it."
"I've already decided I'm done worrying about the world."
"Other than our coffins and our… burial outfits, I've been wanting to do this for ages—return every letter, tell them there's no such person!"
"Nicolas Flamel is dead!"
But Perenelle's voice suddenly carried obvious surprise as she walked in quickly with the letter in hand.
"Nicolas… you probably have to read this one."
Flamel frowned, looked up at the envelope, and his expression shifted into astonishment.
"Dumbledore's seal?"
"He should know what I've decided. Why is he writing to me again?"
"Wait—this seal is from the Ollivanders."
"I've commissioned several wands from them before, and even asked for wandlore materials to supplement my alchemy…"
"I owe them favors."
"And this crest—if I'm not mistaken, that's the Longbottom family?"
"Hah… a descendant of old acquaintances."
"But the sender's name is Theodore Ashbourne."
"Not a Dumbledore. Not an Ollivander. Not a Longbottom."
"So who is this child, with such a face, that he can gather all these seals?"
Curiosity slowly surfaced on Flamel's face.
He opened the envelope and pulled out the parchment.
A moment later, his expression darkened.
He frowned deeply and tossed the parchment onto the table.
"What kind of joke is this?"
"Dumbledore stamped his seal for this Theodore Ashbourne…"
"Just so he could use folk alchemy to mock me?"
"Five elements… restrictions…"
"What is all this?"
"This reminds me of the time when I still cared about fame and gave lectures everywhere."
"Every time, someone tried to prove to me that they'd solved some great alchemical problem."
"At first I was always polite, thinking perhaps it was a hidden master."
"But after a single sentence, I'd realize—this fool didn't even understand basic alchemy!"
Flamel's face turned sour.
"I didn't expect that after a hundred years…"
"At the very end of my life…"
"It would be someone recommended by Dumbledore who comes to joke with me like this."
Perenelle hesitated.
"But you know Dumbledore would never recommend someone lightly."
"And his own alchemy is no shallow thing."
"Also—Ollivander's seal, and the Longbottom crest."
"A fraud or an idiot couldn't possibly earn trust from so many."
Flamel sighed.
"…Fine."
"You're right."
"It seems I still have to read the rest."
"Let's see what this little wizard Theodore Ashbourne is actually trying to give me."
For the entire morning, Nicolas Flamel studied Theodore's letter.
And his expression gradually… changed.
A sheet of scrap paper appeared on his desk.
With a few casual strokes, Flamel sketched a diagram of Five Elements circulation and Bagua transformation.
"Perenelle," he said quietly, "bring me my glasses."
Perenelle's eyes widened.
She had lived with him for so many years—she knew perfectly well that his eyesight wasn't bad.
The glasses were a habit.
Only something that truly interested him—something that even felt challenging—made him unconsciously put them on.
It had been many, many years since she'd seen him like this.
Especially in alchemy.
Flamel had always declared that modern alchemy held no secrets worth longing for anymore.
Could that mean…
This Theodore had really brought him something unimaginable?
Under Perenelle's uneasy gaze, Flamel became more and more absorbed.
Finally, he stood up abruptly and slammed a palm onto the table, his voice filled with disbelief.
"It's real?"
"It works?!"
"This thing Theodore Ashbourne calls… restrictions—similar to alchemical patterns, but far deeper and more mysterious than alchemy…"
"It actually holds together?!"
"And he said he enclosed a sample with the letter—where is it?"
At that moment, the long cry of Hermes sounded from outside the window.
Then—
A streak of dark-grey light shot into the room at a speed beyond imagination.
A violent gust roared through the air; Flamel could barely keep his eyes open.
When he finally steadied himself, he saw it—
A layer of restriction-light glowing over Hermes' body.
And Hermes stood tall, staring straight at him, as if saying:
Old man. Now you see my master's power, don't you?
A brilliance Flamel hadn't felt in decades erupted in his eyes.
It was as if an entirely new world had been forced open in front of him.
He turned to Perenelle.
"Perenelle…"
"Maybe… tell the coffin shop and the burial-clothes shop…"
"…that we won't be going today."
"I suddenly feel like…"
"I don't want to die quite as much anymore."
The next evening, over the castle's horizon, a dark-grey shadow flashed past.
Hermes returned—carrying Flamel's reply.
Theodore took a deep breath and opened the letter.
The System Interface immediately erupted with a series of messages.
You explain your Dao-seeking heart to Daoist Lu Ya and yearn for his guidance.
Daoist Lu Ya is moved by your sincerity and thinks:
"This child is astonishingly talented. His Dao-heart is invincible. He will surely shine in the great calamity. Guiding him will form a good karmic bond."
You successfully form ties with Daoist Lu Ya!
In the next moment, Theodore saw the relationship entry for Daoist Lu Ya appear on the interface.
He followed it downward and saw the rewards tied to this connection.
Even though he had already seen countless treasures that would be considered rare even in the Primordial World…
Theodore still couldn't help blurting out:
"What the hell?!"
◇ BONUS & SUPPORT ◇
◇ 1 bonus chapter for every 10 reviews — drop a comment!
◇ 1 bonus chapter for every 100 Power Stones.
◇ Read 60 chapters ahead on P@treon → patreon.com/StrawHatStudios