But on reflection, that was perfectly normal.
Whether in the East or the West, who wouldn't want to truly conquer death and live forever?
Unfortunately, how could he have known about the cultivation system's method of cultivating both one's inner nature and life force?
At that thought, Gerald continued his questioning.
"What happened after that?"
"After that... Joseph disappeared for a while. Nobody knew where he'd gone, not even Perenelle and me. When he returned, he'd aged tremendously. Only three years had passed, but he looked thirty years older."
An exceedingly complicated gleam flashed through Nicolas Flamel's dark brown eyes as he reached this point.
"Then he told me he'd found a new kind of magic, one that could make people truly immortal without the Philosopher's Stone."
"A new kind of magic?" Gerald pressed.
"Yes. He didn't say what it was exactly. Though he was exhausted then, he was also brimming with confidence. I'd never seen him so excited. It was as though he'd been set ablaze from within."
Nicolas Flamel's voice gradually grew quieter, and his spirits visibly sank.
"Then came the last time I saw him. It was in France, ten years later. He was in terrible shape, nothing but skin and bones, with sunken eyes and almost completely white hair. He sat on the steps outside a church, clutching a Small Cloth Bag, like a vagrant who hadn't eaten for days. When I greeted him, he stared blankly for quite a while before recognizing me. Two years later, his wife informed us of his death in a letter."
"It wasn't until later that I understood just what he'd provoked. While sorting through the belongings he'd left at Beauxbatons, I found things in his alchemy notes that he'd never told me about."
"Those old things?" Dumbledore suddenly interjected.