In a lavish private garden in France, an old man looked at Tao Yu before him and couldn't help sighing.
"Although Dumbledore has already written to me about you, I'm still just as amazed to see you with my own eyes..."
Nicolas Flamel spoke in an unhurried voice. He looked even younger than Dumbledore.
In reality, though, he was an old man who had lived for more than six hundred years.
And he was also the maker of the only Philosopher's Stone in the Wizarding World!
The Philosopher's Stone could produce the Elixir of Life without end and turn base metals into gold. Nicolas Flamel possessed both a long life and boundless wealth.
Yet he and his wife had always maintained a life of near seclusion.
Their long lives had even begun to bore them.
Otherwise, in the original course of events, they wouldn't have so readily destroyed the Philosopher's Stone after Dumbledore persuaded them.
"Not at all, sir. Your erudition is just as astonishing. In many areas, even Headmaster Dumbledore can't compare to you."
Tao Yu sipped his afternoon tea, his tone just as calm.
At least in alchemy, Nicolas Flamel's talent, combined with his age, had brought him nearly to the limits of what was possible.
After consulting him many times, Tao Yu could sense that Nicolas Flamel was deliberately concealing the true extent of his alchemical skills.
It seemed he didn't want his alchemy to flourish.
But through his analysis of the Philosopher's Stone and his conversations with Nicolas Flamel here, Tao Yu had come to understand why.
The finest material for alchemy was the soul!
The process of making the Philosopher's Stone must have involved the deaths of countless lives—an unimaginable number.
That was also why, after all these years, there was still only one Philosopher's