Chapter 131 — Another Heir?!!
Darren sighed.
Apparently, the system had already decided this for him.
He had multiple "dads" from the bloodline lottery…
Now he was being nudged to acknowledge a grandfather too.
Fine. At this point, what was one more?
When Darren finished the final line, the old man looked up at him quietly, eyes misty with nostalgia.
"Why… why did you save me like that? Clearly…"
He didn't finish.
Darren already knew his cue.
He smiled softly and answered, "No particular reason… You just remind me of my grandfather."
[Ding. Scene card sequence complete.
Projection into reality will occur.
Involved parties will recall the memory within 24 hours.]
The world dissolved.
Darren blinked once…
and immediately fell fast asleep.
Far away in Paris, Nicolas Flamel jolted awake.
"What's wrong?"
His wife, Perenelle, looked at him suspiciously.
"Ah… Perenelle," Nicolas said weakly. "I accidentally entered someone's mindscape—their spiritual world."
"The spiritual world?!"
Perenelle gasped. "Have you lost your mind?!"
She was right to panic.
A person's spiritual world was full of buried impulses and unstable thoughts—
especially wizards.
Entering it could corrode one's soul.
Worse, some minds were so toxic that intruders had been devoured whole, left as empty shells—like victims of a Dementor's Kiss.
Even the greatest Masters of Legilimency would never dare invade another wizard's inner world lightly.
But her husband had gone in by accident.
Nicolas rubbed his aching forehead.
"It was… quite an ordeal," he sighed. "I… met Death."
Perenelle froze.
"Death? You mean—?"
"Yes. The real thing."
He had known instantly—not because of logic, but instinct.
The presence on that bridge had been unmistakable.
Death had come to collect him.
He and Perenelle had postponed the natural end for centuries.
Perhaps too long.
But then—
A child stopped it.
A boy named Darren Potter.
Nicolas still felt incredulous saying it aloud.
He had gone to observe the boy only out of curiosity. Dumbledore had mentioned that several first-year students helped protect the Philosopher's Stone. And one of them—Harry Potter's younger brother—was rumored to have said that the afterlife was rather interesting.
Nicolas admired eternal life deeply; he couldn't accept that anyone would dislike it.
Living forever was wonderful—endless time to explore, create, discover. If the Stone hadn't become ineffective for them, he and Perenelle would never have surrendered immortality.
But this child had claimed to dislike eternal life.
It shook Nicolas's worldview.
So he had quietly observed the boy… until he got too close—
and wandered straight into Darren's spiritual world.
And what he saw stunned him.
It was pure.
The air was fresh—no malice.
Sunlight filled the space—showing an untainted mind.
The air carried the fragrance of flowers—symbolizing noble intention.
And there was even a bridge, symbolizing sacrifice, courage, and selflessness.
Nicolas felt humbled.
What kind of child possessed a spiritual world like this?
Even Merlin—self-proclaimed god that he was—might not have such purity.
Had Nicolas been wrong all these years?
Was his chase for immortality misguided?
Then he turned—
and saw Darren.
In soft nightclothes, wearing a gentle smile.
And with every step Darren took, the spiritual world brightened.
Nicolas felt ashamed to meet his eyes.
Before he could speak, Darren asked him gently:
"Are you unhappy? You can tell me. I don't know you anyway—maybe you'll feel better."
The words echoed in Nicolas's heart.
He realized Darren didn't know him.
And when the vision ended, the child wouldn't remember.
So he spoke.
He confessed his doubts about immortality.
Expecting scolding, or judgment.
But the boy simply said:
"If you want to live forever, live forever.
If you don't want to, then don't.
Birth, age, and death… that's the natural order. You don't have to be too sad."
Simple words—but they hit harder than any wisdom he'd heard in centuries.
And as he tried to continue speaking—
Death appeared.
The real thing.
Nicolas felt the chain of death loop around his neck.
He was ready.
He regretted only leaving Perenelle behind.
But then—
Darren shoved him off the bridge.
The chain snapped.
Nicolas realized Darren was challenging Death itself.
He heard Darren shout:
"Come at me! What's the point of bullying an old man?!"
For a moment—
After centuries of loss—
after watching generations of his family fade—
after being alone with only Perenelle—
Nicolas felt protected.
Protected… by a child.
Before he could process the feeling, Darren leapt off after him.
Then came the final blow:
"You remind me of my grandfather… that's why."
Nicolas's heart nearly stopped.
He had spent centuries without family.
He had forgotten what it felt like.
Perhaps… that was what he'd been missing.
Perhaps that was why immortality had begun to feel cold.
Perhaps—
Perhaps he should have…
another heir.
A boy worthy of the Flamels' legacy.
A child who carried the purity of the sun.
A grandson.