Could This Kid Really Have the Wizard's Eye?
Let's get started.
Without hesitation, Silan quietly activated the Wizard's Eye.
The world blurred before him, with faint Lumos within it.
When he looked up at Nicolas Flamel, he saw that the light surrounding him was erupting uncontrollably, smashing through the roof and reaching the sky.
In terms of sheer spectacle, this surpasses even Dumbledore.
"No wonder he's the legendary Alchemy who can kill someone with a blue bar from 10 miles away..."
As Silan, Nicolas Flamel suddenly noticed something unusual in his eyes and couldn't help but say, "Child, your eyes..."
After quietly dispelling the Wizard's Eye, Silan pretended nothing had happened and asked with a smile, "What's wrong, Professor Nicolas Flamel?"
Nicolas Flamel had just detected an unusual glint in Silan's eyes, but it vanished in an instant.
The light was quite peculiar; Nicolas Flamel had seen it recorded in ancient texts.
"This child can't possibly have the Wizard's Eye..." he thought to himself.
According to historical records, the Wizard's Eye is an extremely rare talent, possessed by only a very few wizards throughout history.
Because they can see the magic circuits and the flow of magic, such wizards, unless they die young, will almost always become masters in their respective fields.
In the realm of Alchemy, the Wizard's Eye is truly a gift from heaven.
It can be said that with the Wizard's Eye, learning Alchemy will be twice as effective.
Nicolas Flamel looked into Silan's eyes.
His deep brown eyes were calm and quiet, without anything unusual about them.
This made Nicolas Flamel wonder if he had just seen things wrong.
"Is this child really just 'somewhat talented,' as Albus said?" Nicolas Flamel wondered to himself.
Seeing Nicolas Flamel looking somewhat dazed, Silan took the initiative to strike up a conversation, changing the subject. He asked a question that many people were curious about.
"Professor Nicolas Flamel, who is more powerful, you or Headmaster Dumbledore?"
This is a very childish question, but it comes at just the right time when asked by Silan now.
Dispelling the jumbled thoughts in his mind, Nicolas Flamel took a sip of Black Tea and said with a chuckle, "In terms of Alchemy, perhaps I am a little better than Dumbledore, but in terms of magical skill, I am far inferior to him."
"Is there a difference between Alchemy and magical proficiency?" Silan asked, feigning deep thought.
"Haha." Nicolas Flamel put down his teacup and slowly leaned back in his chair. "The difference is huge."
"Dumbledore's magical prowess is evident in his Spells, Potions, and even dueling skills, while my deepest research lies in Alchemy."
"In other words, if the two of us were to engage in a wizarding duel, he would undoubtedly be the victor."
"Even Grindelwald back then wasn't a match for him..." At this point, Nicolas Flamel realized he had spoken out of turn and stood up, saying, "Sorry, child, I've said a bit too much."
He took small, quick steps to Silan's side, patted him on the shoulder, and said, "You must be very tired. Let me show you your room so you can rest for a bit."
Silan nodded and followed in his footsteps with small, quick steps.
A series of light footsteps sounded inside the house.
The two of them took small, quick steps as they went upstairs.
Nicolas Flamel led Silan to the door of a newly prepared room. "We're here. You can stay here for now."
The room was simply furnished, but the bed was clean and the table and chairs were complete. For Silan, who had lived in an orphanage, this was an excellent living environment.
After placing her luggage beside the bed, Silan asked the question that had been on her mind the most, "Professor Nicolas Flamel, when do we begin learning Alchemy?"
Seeing Silan's eager and thirsty expression, Nicolas Flamel couldn't help but sigh, "Albus, he really is a studious little wizard."
However, he also harbored a deep sense of worry.
Over the long years, he had seen countless young wizards who were passionate about Alchemy. But once they encountered setbacks in Alchemy, their enthusiasm would immediately turn cold, and they would give up this obscure and difficult subject.
Dumbledore said the little guy had good talent, so Nicolas Flamel didn't want to discourage him so soon.
Nicolas Flamel waved his hand at him. "No rush, you should rest today, we'll start studying tomorrow."
Silan persisted, asking, "Professor Nicolas Flamel, could you give me some books to read?"
This is another of Silan's objectives.
Nicolas Flamel has lived for over six hundred years; he's practically a fossil in the Wizarding World. His library is naturally extraordinary. Silan has already prepared Parchment and Spell-Checking Quill, ready to copy down some valuable material and take it with him.
"The library is in the room at the end of the corridor. The door isn't locked. If you want to read, go there," Nicolas Flamel said with a smile, infected by Silan's enthusiasm and eagerness to learn.
After saying that, Nicolas Flamel slowly went downstairs.
Silan unpacked his luggage, ate some snacks Aunt Molly had given him, and then took out the owl Melba.
"Wait! Wait!"
"What are you trying to do, you bastard!"
Melba jumped around in the cage, and when he saw Silan take out a quill and Parchment, he began to grit his teeth.
"Write a letter to Miss Granger," Silan said matter-of-factly.
"Stop it, you bastard!" Melba yelled. "You're in Paris now, do you know how far away from England?"
"I know," Silan nodded seriously. "It's about 211 miles from London."
Melba: "..."
No, you really know?
"Don't worry, Melba, it's not like I'm the one delivering the message." Silan patted the cage.
If he weren't just an owl, Melba would have loved to punch Silan twice.
Is this even human language?
Ignoring Melba's strong protests, Silan pulled out a chair from his desk and began writing a letter to Hermione.
"My dear Miss Granger ..."