Tom's footsteps halted. "What?"
"Creating your own magic, or modifying existing magic into something better suited to you. That is also part of cultivation."
Tom leaned against a tree, looking up at the moonlight overhead. "Creating my own magic isn't something I can touch at my current stage."
"Don't underestimate yourself, Tom. You're already truly outstanding."
Tom froze for a moment. Andros rarely called him by name.
He usually called him "kid." When he used his name, it meant he was serious.
"System, check Andros's approval."
[Andros Approval: 87%.]
Eighty-seven. Without realizing it, it was nearly ninety. Tom looked at the number, the corner of his mouth lifting.
From the initial 5% when they first met to the current 87%, every training session and every duel had gradually changed this ancient Roman wizard's assessment of him.
Look at the eleven-year-olds at Hogwarts—either fooling around or slacking off. Even counting the entire school, there weren't many who worked as hard as Tom.
"Andros."
"Mm."
"Of the people you taught before, how many could create their own magic?"
"Three."
"Three?"
"Yes, three. Two became legends, and one died."
"How did he die?"
"He died while creating his own magic."
Tom fell silent.
"But you're different. You're exceptional. Forget compared to those your age—even compared to adult wizards, you're no worse."
"During the process of creating magic, you'll develop new ideas and gain a deeper understanding of the nature of magical power."
Tom said nothing. He looked at the moonlight overhead. It was bright, turning the canopy silver.
"I'll try."
The potion-brewing site was deep within the Forbidden Forest, near the Mooncalfs' territory.
When Tom reached the cauldron, Kaka suddenly jumped up, turned around, and repeatedly bowed to him.
"Master Riddle! Master Riddle is here!"
Five house-elves were squatting nearby, with