The flow of magic within the crucible became clearly visible to Silan.
The examiners were surprised to find that Prewett seemed to change after blinking.
Now, his gaze is sharp and his demeanor is composed. When he waves his wand, he is just like a conductor, elegant and composed.
The examiners turned to look at Snape, thinking to themselves, "This is exactly like Professor Snape's Potions style!"
Snape remained expressionless, but inwardly he was quite pleased. "Of course, a student I personally taught will resemble me."
Charlemagne seemed equally taken aback, glancing at Silan in surprise, finding it even more amusing.
Noticing that Silan was constantly chasing him, Charlemagne sped up his movements again, wanting to see if Silan could keep up.
What shocked the examiners even more was what happened.
Prewett sped up again, catching up with Master Charlemagne in the blink of an eye!
Silan carefully observed the magical energy in the cauldron with her Wizard's Eye, her wand moving up and down with measured speed and precision, her movements not only effortless but also extremely accurate.
"How could this be?" Ross's eyes widened, his mind filled with disbelief.
Milton, observing Silan's composed demeanor, frowned in thought, "It's not surprising that Master Charlemagne was able to suppress the raging cauldron in the final stages. After all, he is a renowned Potions Master, whose experience and skills are impeccable."
"How could someone as young as Prewett have reached this level of experience and skill?"
Even Snape was somewhat surprised.
Silan's effortless performance certainly exceeded his expectations.
"Perhaps it's because I became familiar with the calibration process before..." Snape thought to himself, looking at Silan.
Unbeknownst to them, the magical state of the cauldron was fully visible to Silan.
When materials are added, the flow and stillness of magic are immediately apparent; when adjusting spells, the changes and fluctuations of magic are clearly visible.
Therefore, he doesn't need to sense the control of magic or the timing of its release; he can simply observe.
That's why he can be both fast and accurate.
I don't need to feel anything; my eyes are the ruler!
At this moment, Silan and Charlemagne had entered the most crucial final stage, yet their speed continued to increase.
All the examiners were on tenterhooks.
If Prewett loses control and blows up the crucible, Professor Snape will lose all face.
But if he can complete this Wolfsbane Potion in such an incredible way, then he will undoubtedly show the potential to become Potions Master.
Milton carefully lifted the few remaining strands of hair on his forehead, wiped the cold sweat with a handkerchief, twisted his stiff neck, looked at Snape, and asked in a low voice, "Professor Snape, what year is this student of yours...?"
"Third Year," Snape replied calmly.
Milton: "???"
Third Year wizard?!
So, all that's going on, he's only been learning Potions for two and a half years.
Milton's hand trembled as he wiped his sweat, and he accidentally smeared out a few strands of hair that were already thinning on his forehead.
But he couldn't care less about feeling sorry for her now; he just turned his head blankly to look at Silan.
Third Year was able to make Wolfsbane Potion, and he was even skilled at it!
What kind of genius is this?!
While Milton was still in a daze, Charlemagne finished the Potions first.
Now only Silan remains.
All eyes were on him.
Under such terrifying pressure, even a Potioneer with a slightly weaker mind is bound to make mistakes.
But Silan didn't care at all.
He swiftly waved his wand, controlling the raging magic within the cauldron, unleashing a series of Spells.
The liquid in the crucible suddenly jerked, spewing out a large plume of smoke that dispersed in all directions.
Despite the stench, the inspectors kept their eyes wide open, peering into Silan's crucible.
Pale blue medicine, wisps of smoke.
It worked!
Everyone breathed a sigh of relief, only then realizing that they had subconsciously forgotten to breathe.
[Potion Prodigy: Proficiency +5]
[Wizard's Eye: Proficiency +5]
Silan glanced at the virtual panel that popped up, somewhat surprised.
The more advanced the term, the harder it is to gain proficiency, especially through repeated practice. It's like an exam: the lower the score, the harder it is to improve; once you reach the top, every additional point becomes extremely difficult. Moreover, practicing only easy questions naturally won't increase your proficiency in difficult ones.
"[Potion Prodigy] and [Wizard's Eye] are Level Three and two respectively, and they're making Wolfsbane Potion they're already familiar with, yet their proficiency has increased so much?" Silan was very curious about this, secretly thinking, "Could it be because they're brewing it with Potions Master, so the experience is different?"
After a long moment of stunned silence, Milton hurriedly stuffed his handkerchief into his jacket pocket, stood up while holding onto the back of his chair, and announced, "Now, I invite all examiners to come forward and examine the Potions's effects."
All the examiners stood up in silence, each taking a Potion-Testing Spoon, and examined Silan and Charlemagne's Potions in turn.
After tasting it, everyone signed their names on the review form and wrote down their opinions.
"Without a doubt, both of them succeeded."
"The quality is impeccable!"
All the examiners looked at Silan with complex expressions, inwardly marveling, "To have mastered the Wolfsbane Potion to this extent at such a young age, he's undoubtedly a genius!"
"Where did Professor Snape find such a precious student?"
Ross shook his head helplessly.
In his youth, he considered himself a genius Potioneer and registered as Potioneer with the Extraordinary Society of Potioneers at a young age.
For the next few decades, he devoted almost all his energy and effort to Potions, but to this day he has not even reached the threshold of Potions Master.
He was initially hostile towards Silan, thinking that this kid named Prewett was only benefiting from Master Snape's fame.
But now he is left with nothing but helplessness.
The gap between genius and mediocrity is so vast that it eliminates any desire for comparison.
Most importantly, Prewett is still so young!
Snape quietly loosened his grip on the armrest, revealing an expression that suggested he had expected this and was completely unconcerned.
It's normal for my students to be able to do this.
Charlemagne pulled a neatly folded handkerchief from his pocket, unfolded it, and wiped his hands. "Mr. Prewett, you're very good. Control, judgment, precision—all first-rate."
Charlemagne folded the handkerchief again and said earnestly, "Are you interested in learning Potions from me? I guarantee I can make you Potions Master before you come of age. Even the position of president of the Extraordinary Society of Potioneers isn't out of the question."
Charlemagne spoke, he slowly and deliberately put the handkerchief back into his pocket.
The examiners, still reeling from their earlier shock, widened their eyes upon hearing Charlemagne's words, almost thinking they had misheard.
Becoming Potions Master before even reaching adulthood?!
There's even a position for the president of the Extraordinary Society of Potioneers?!
Milton and Ross exchanged a glance, both seeing deep astonishment in each other's eyes.
Does this mean that this Third Year wizard might become their boss in the future?
"I don't care, I don't care," Ross gritted his teeth, trying to convince himself, but he could clearly hear his inner voice screaming, "Who the hell doesn't care?!"
Milton touched his remaining hair with pity, "Looks like I might see the next chairman before I lose all my hair."
It's no wonder they both thought that way.
Everyone in the Extraordinary Society of Potioneers knows that Master Charlemagne never jokes.
Since he dared to say it, he dared to do it.
But before Silan could speak, Snape couldn't sit still any longer.
He stood up, strode forward, and stared coldly at Charlemagne, saying, "President Charlemagne, if you want to win over my students, shouldn't you at least do it when I'm not around?"
"First there was Nicolas Flamel, and now you Charlemagne, are getting involved. Do you think I don't exist?" Snape thought angrily.
Charlemagne wasn't afraid of him. He smiled at Silan and continued, "Mr. Prewett, you really don't need to waste your time at Hogwarts. If you focus on learning Potions, you have a high chance of becoming Potions Master before you even reach adulthood."
"He doesn't need to come here to learn Potions." Snape stood in front of Silan, blocking Charlemagne's path.
"That's not necessarily true." Charlemagne avoided Snape, looked at Silan, and continued, "Mr. Prewett, what do you say?"
"Thank you for your kindness, Master Charlemagne," Silan said neither humbly nor arrogantly, "But my teacher is already Potions Master."
"As for the position of president of the Extraordinary Society of Potioneers, I will take it myself if I need it."
Snape was satisfied with his answer.
Charlemagne stared intently into Silan's eyes for a moment, a rare hint of regret appearing on his usually expressionless face. "What a pity."
He shook his head, didn't insist any further, and called over Miss Mary was waiting outside, "Go help Mr. Prewett register for his Potioneer license."
"Mr. Prewett, please come to the second floor." Miss Mary walked quickly to Silan and gestured for him to come up.
Charlemagne gestured to interrupt her, "Take him to the third floor."
Miss Mary was taken aback.
Third floor?
That's where you register as Senior Potioneer.
This kid is so young, yet he's already eligible to register as Senior Potioneer?
This was the first time Miss Mary had encountered something like this since she started working at the Extraordinary Society of Potioneers.
"It's a pity she's too young, otherwise..." Miss Mary quickly shook her head, stopping the wicked thought in her mind.
"Mr. Prewett, please come with me."