Mind-Calming Art

Seven days passed.

Lin An Alvin stood in the center of the laboratory, staring at the corpses scattered across the floor, his brow tightly furrowed.

Ten werewolves and five dark wizards had all died during the past week of experiments.

He had tried countless times to modify the Life Code, yet he remained trapped in the same fatal impasse.

The complexity of the Life Code exceeded all imagination.

Even altering a single minute symbol would trigger a chain reaction that could not be predicted.

This was a struggle against the Law of Existence itself, and he was not yet qualified to win.

Yet he was still moving forward.

This week had not been without gains.

During his research, he had discovered something important—the Magic Core.

Every wizard possessed such a core within their body. It stored magical power and was the source of spellcasting.

Some cores were spherical, some triangular, and a rare few possessed cubic structures.

Ordinary wizards usually had round cores, while supreme wizards like Dumbledore and Grindelwald often had cores with complex, stable forms.

More interestingly, even Squibs possessed cores within their bodies—

Their cores were simply dormant, without light or movement.

In his early years, he had attempted to transplant a wizard's core into another person to enhance their magical power.

He had solved dozens of technical problems, yet the attempt had still ended in failure.

First, cores were difficult to extract. They were not physical organs, but forms that existed somewhere between the soul and bloodline.

Even if forcibly stripped away, they would collapse in an instant.

And when he successfully transplanted one through special means, there were only two possible outcomes:

Either nothing happened, or the recipient suffered severe rejection, their magic ran wild, and they ultimately died.

Only after researching the Life Code did he finally understand why.

—Bloodlines determined how a core existed, while souls determined whom a core belonged to.

A core carried its owner's Soul Imprint. Once transplanted, that imprint conflicted with the recipient's soul.

That was the true Source of "rejection."

The experiments came to a temporary halt.

He had no new materials and, for the moment, no new inspiration.

Continuing would only add to the number of corpses.

He sighed, extinguished the rune array, and left the laboratory.

"Perhaps I should try a different approach," he murmured.

"If I could observe a developing wizarding life—from embryo to birth—I might be able to see how the Life Code naturally forms."

The thought surfaced suddenly, yet it made his heart shudder.

His expression turned grave, and his breathing caught slightly.

He knew that he had always been calm and rational, but he would never lay a hand on a child.

Such a thought should not have appeared in his mind.

He gently pressed a hand to his forehead.

"Looks like... something is wrong with my mind."

Lin An packed away all the experimental equipment and stepped out of the trunk.

After leaving the manor, he Apparated and vanished into the night.

Moments later, he appeared in a dim alley in London.

He changed into ordinary Muggle clothing, raised a hand to summon a gust of wind, and stole several newspapers from a street corner to confirm the place and time.

Then he Apparated again, appearing at an enormous concert venue.

The stage lights were dazzling, the crowd surged, and the music was deafening.

Thousands upon thousands of Muggles were immersed in the celebration, their laughter and singing weaving together into the purest joy.

Lin An stood in the shadows of the crowd, raised his wand, and spoke softly.

"Patronus Charm."

A streak of silver light shot into the sky. A massive silver eagle spread its wings and soared through the night.

As its wings unfurled, it seemed as though even the starlight had been stirred.

Yet none of the Muggles could see it.

To them, it was merely a breeze passing by and the lights flickering.

The silver eagle flew high, hovered in the air, then opened its beak and made a swallowing motion.

Countless tiny silver motes drifted up from the crowd and were slowly swallowed by it.

Those were memories of happiness.

This was another of Lin An's inventions—

A reverse spell modeled after Dementors.

Unlike Dementors, his Patronus would not devour souls or steal happiness.

It only stimulated the Muggles' beautiful memories, then absorbed the positive energy fluctuations produced by them.

A few minutes later, the silver eagle had expanded several times over, gleaming with blinding radiance.

It swooped down and merged back into Lin An's body.

In that instant, warm power flowed throughout his body, thoroughly dispersing the oppressive shadows.

His thoughts became clear once more, and even the air seemed lighter.

He let out a long breath.

"This is much better."

He knew full well that dark magic eroded the caster's mind.

Especially for someone like him, who had delved deeply into its essence.

Without protection, his mind would sooner or later be consumed by darkness.

Thus, he improved the Patronus Charm and made it a true "guardian of the mind."

He called it—the Mind-Calming Art.

Lin An had never considered himself a dark wizard.

He admitted that he was cruel, rational, even cold-blooded, but he had never lost his bottom line.

Just as now, he could still cast the Patronus Charm—and that alone was proof.

To summon a Patronus, a wizard needed sufficiently powerful happy memories in their heart.

And Lin An had far more than one.

He remembered the laughter of his parents when they were still alive.

The pride in his mother's eyes when he first received his wand.

Amid the Fear and darkness of wartime, they would still light a lamp for him by the dinner table.

Later, his parents died in battle, and his aunt Amelia adopted him.

Outsiders believed she was cold and harsh, but Lin An knew that she was merely accustomed to concealing warmth beneath hardness.

That silent love was the last warmth that carried him through his youth.

Even now, he would still smile faintly when he thought back on it.

He had experienced death, and he had been reborn.

The meaning of being alive was clearer to him than to anyone else.

He pursued magic not for power, but for understanding—

The passion of exploring the unknown surpassed any glory.

Whenever he lifted the veil from a Truth, he felt a subtle sense of satisfaction.

It was as though the mysterious Goddess of Magic stood before him, and he was slowly lifting her gauzy veil bit by bit.

Even uncovering one corner was enough to make his heart pound like thunder.

This was why he continued onward.

The night grew deeper, yet the music's rhythm still pulsed.

Lin An looked upon that sea of lights, a faint smile appearing at the corner of his lips.

"Not a bad treatment."

He turned, took out the communication mirror he carried with him, and lightly touched its surface with his wand, projecting shimmering runes.

"Are you free now?"

A few minutes later, the mirror lit up, and a familiar voice replied—

"I am. Coming over?"

Lin An smiled faintly.

"Of course."

With a flash of light, his figure vanished into the night sky.