Mithril Wand, Transfer or Cash?

When they saw this wand, both Charle and Professor McGonagall were taken aback.

This wand was simply far too different from the ones they knew.

The wands Ollivander had brought out earlier all had wooden shafts, with cores of Phoenix Feather, Unicorn Mane, Dragon Nerve, or materials from certain special Magical Creatures.

There was also hardly any aesthetic appeal to their shafts, perfectly fitting the description of "a broken little stick."

But the wand before them was not only made entirely of silvery metal; it also possessed an elegant, exquisite quality, covered in mysterious openwork patterns.

At first glance, it looked more like a beautiful work of art.

Professor McGonagall was the first to give Ollivander a questioning look.

"Mr. Ollivander, are you sure this is a wand?"

Ollivander seemed to have prepared his speech long ago and answered firmly.

"Of course it is a wand, and one with quite an extraordinary history."

"Its origins can be traced back to the era of war between wizards and Goblins. As everyone knows, Goblins possess greater innate magical abilities than wizards."

"Yet they were defeated by wizards in several wars, and the fundamental reason was that they had no wands."

"Because of that, Goblins went to great lengths to steal wandmaking techniques from wizards. Combining them with their own craft of forging weapons from magical metals, they began making wands of their own."

"However, they had only just produced a single prototype when they lost the war, and that prototype was lost along with it."

"This Goblin Wand should have vanished into history, but an ancestor of the Ollivander Family, driven by curiosity and a love for wands, searched everywhere for relevant records and recreated that Goblin Wand using the same techniques."

"This is the very one you see before you. I dare say that even the Goblins who made the original would cry out that it was identical to the lost one!"

Charle and Professor McGonagall both wore rather meaningful expressions.

After introducing the wand's origins, Ollivander swiftly turned the topic back to the wand itself.

"Unlike wizards, who use wood and Magical Creature materials to make wands, Goblins make theirs using their peerless magical metal-smelting techniques."

"They also believed that pairing wood with Magical Creature materials compromised a wand's magical performance. How could two entirely different materials possibly work together?"

"Thus, their wands did not distinguish between shaft and core. The entire wand was formed from a single piece of magical metal. This one was made from a whole piece of mithril, a metal said to possess the finest magical properties."

"See those openwork patterns? They further enhance magical conductivity. Combined with the silver shaft, they truly make it look like a work of art."

"I have to admit, Goblins are far ahead in this regard."

After praising it for a few moments, Ollivander shook his head regretfully.

"Unfortunately, Goblins only learned the barest surface of wandlore. They never researched the connection between wands and wizards at all."

"That greedy race simply does not believe in such mysterious and wondrous connections. They regard wands purely as weapons and tools."

"Therefore, this wand has no sparks, no notion of choosing an owner, and no loyalty or personality to speak of. It serves every person who holds it equally and delivers the same performance."

"It is not a wizard's companion. It is merely a weapon."

"If Charle's magic were not so extreme that only mithril could likely withstand it, I would never have taken this wand out."

Yet Ollivander's regret made Charle's eyes light up.

Compared with Ollivander's philosophy of wandmaking, Charle found the Goblins' approach much more agreeable.

A tool was a tool, and a weapon was a weapon. That was what a wand was supposed to be.

A wizard could certainly feel affection for a wand, just as a swordsman cherished the sword in his hand. But no matter how attached one was to a weapon, a weapon was still a weapon.

Durable, sturdy, and easy to use. That was enough.

As for personality?

What the hell was that good for?

Loyalty, though, was somewhat useful.

But as long as it would not turn on its owner and merely failed to perform at full capacity in someone else's hands, there was not much difference.

At least, in Charle's view, if his wand fell into someone else's hands during battle, he was probably not far from death anyway.

The best way to ensure a wand remained loyal was to make sure it was always in his own hand!

So, while Ollivander was still planning to continue, Charle had already reached out and grasped the Mithril Wand.

The moment it settled into his hand, it was not as cold as Charle had imagined. It carried a faint warmth, along with the texture of metal.

Yet it felt exceptionally comfortable, fitting the curve of his palm perfectly.

Its weight was just right as well—not featherlight, nor so heavy that it weighed down his hand. Everything about it was simply perfect.

Excitement surged through Charle.

When he had held those wooden wands before, even the oak ones said to be the toughest, he had always felt vaguely uneasy.

But as he held the Mithril Wand now, that feeling vanished completely.

Charle eagerly tried to draw upon the Eternal Blazing Sun Spell.

The wand swept smoothly through the air as the supremely sacred, supremely radiant magic of the Eternal Blazing Sun Spell began to flow. It poured into the Mithril Wand, making its shaft and the openwork magical patterns upon it seem to flow with silver light.

But just as Ollivander had said, mithril's capacity for bearing and conducting magic was truly unmatched.

The Eternal Blazing Sun Spell had already reached the point where it burst forth the instant Charle spoke the incantation, yet the Mithril Wand bore it without difficulty. Aside from its flickering silver glow, there was no sign of anything amiss.

Even if Charle became powerful enough to cast several Eternal Blazing Sun Spells in rapid succession someday, the Mithril Wand should still be able to bear them with ease.

Charle excitedly withdrew the Eternal Blazing Sun Spell, then tested the Dust-Free Land Curse.

Magic entirely different from that of the Eternal Blazing Sun Spell flowed into the Mithril Wand, yet it received the same conduction and support.

Only then did a satisfied expression appear on Charle's face.

In his view, this truly suited him better than any other wand.

Ollivander also let out a sigh of relief.

If even this wand did not work, he truly would have been out of options.

At that moment, Charle asked Ollivander.

"Mr. Ollivander, how much is this wand?"

Ollivander named a price.

"Two hundred Galleons."

He had not pulled that number out of thin air.

Setting aside its craftsmanship, exquisite beauty, and long history, the value of the mithril alone exceeded two hundred Galleons. This was already an enormous discount.

Of course, Ollivander also knew that a Muggle-born first-year like Charle certainly would not have that much money.

He had not truly intended to charge so much. He merely wanted Charle to praise Ollivander's Wand Shop whenever he achieved something remarkable in the future.

The last time he had met Dumbledore, Ollivander had missed this opportunity. Looking back on it now, he regretted it so deeply his intestines were practically turning green.

If he had thought of doing this earlier, perhaps Ollivander's reputation would not merely be one of Europe's Three Great Wandmakers, but that of the finest wandmaker in the entire world!

Now, Ollivander saw a chance to achieve that goal in his own generation.

He was already waiting for Charle to bargain, so he could casually state his condition and give Charle the Mithril Wand for free.

But the next moment, just as Professor McGonagall was about to reach for her Money Bag to buy the wand for Charle, Charle nodded to Ollivander first.

"Deal."

"Then, Mr. Ollivander, you still owe me eight hundred Galleons. Will you transfer it through Gringotts, or pay in cash?"