Herman quickly realized that his bare chest had probably made Harry uncomfortable, and hurriedly said, "I'm sorry, I'll put on my clothes right away."
As she spoke, she reached for the clothes, Harry reached out and took them away, carrying them far away.
Herman was puzzled. What was going on? Were they playing some kind of game? But wait, it shouldn't be me stealing clothes, right?
Harry then pointed at his arm and said, "Don't grab your clothes yet, you're on fire."
Herman looked down in the direction Harry was pointing, then stopped.
A wisp of blue smoke was rising from the area on his shoulder that had been covered by the medicinal liquid, with a few sparks sliding down the skin's surface.
It was as if the dark red liquid hadn't extinguished, but instead entered his arm and ignited, setting his entire arm ablaze.
The fire spread rapidly; in the blink of an eye, flames covered Herman's entire arm, making it look like the burning hand of a demon.
Herman was somewhat alarmed, raising his arm to look at the flames in his hand. "What's going on!"
Harry calmly said, "Don't worry, she shouldn't die."
Herman cried out anxiously, "It's not your hand that's on fire!"
Harry remained standing still, her gaze fixed on his arm engulfed in flames, her tone as calm as ever. "Is your arm alright?"
Herman paused for a moment, then took a closer look.
There was no burning sensation on my arm; the skin was only slightly warm, like the warmth of being near a fire in winter.
He flexed his fingers; his joints were flexible and there was no stiffness. "It seems... I don't feel anything."
Harry nodded. "That means the treatment is effective, the Potions is fine, and at least we don't have to worry about amputation."
Herman looked down at the ever-growing flame on his arm. "It won't need amputation, but I'm afraid my arm will be burned to a crisp."
The flames showed no signs of abating; on the contrary, they intensified, enveloping the entire forearm in a layer of dark red flames, as if the arm had been stuffed into a translucent cage of fire.
Harry took half a step forward, getting closer to him, her gaze lingering on the edge of the flames. "Calm down. Didn't you say you weren't burning? Your arm isn't burning. Think about it, if it's not you burning, then what is the fuel?"
Herman's mind raced, considering his vitality and life force, before finally coming up with a statement he himself didn't quite believe. "My yang energy?"
Fortunately, Harry didn't understand Chinese, so she just assumed he was saying something strange again and didn't respond, continuing in a flat and straightforward tone:
"It's most likely magic. Either it's the magic inherent in the Potions, which disappears after it burns up, or it's your own magic. You should be able to control your magic, right? Imagine you're casting a spell, and see if you can take it back."
After calming down, Herman realized that Harry had a point.
Moreover, the fact that the flames had flickered in intensity with his emotions just now also confirmed this.
Magic can be affected by emotions and spread; his earliest bursts of magic also occurred when he was experiencing significant emotional fluctuations.
He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and felt the magic within his body. He discovered that his magic was automatically flowing into his arm, as if it were actively supplying the flames to burn.
The feeling was somewhat strange, as if several invisible channels extended from my chest to my shoulders, continuously supplying something into the flames.
He hesitated for a moment, not rushing to cut it off, but instead consciously tried to channel more magic into his arm.
The flames suddenly shot up, turning from dark red to bright orange, and the tongues of fire shot straight up to the ceiling, causing the stone wall of the roof to crackle slightly.
Then he decisively cut off the supply, and the flame went out instantly as if its fuel had been drained, leaving only a wisp of smoke that swirled around his shoulder for a moment before dissipating.
Harry suddenly burst out laughing.
The laughter was soft, but exceptionally clear in the quiet room. Herman turned his head in confusion. "What's wrong?"
Harry didn't answer, but simply waved her wand, and the pan of the brass balance on the table flew up and hovered in mid-air, its gleaming bronze face pointing directly at Herman's face.
Herman was stunned when he saw his own appearance. Half of his face was blackened by soot, as if he had been smeared with charcoal ash. His cheekbones and chin were grayish-black, with only a little bit of his original skin showing around his eyes.
As for his hair, he raised his hand and touched the left side of his head. His fingertips touched a rough, charred patch. His hair looked like grass that had been scorched by fire, leaving only short stubble with curled and hard edges. It also had a slightly charred feel to the touch.
Herman reached out and pushed the bronze plate aside, trying to change the subject. "What exactly happened?"
Harry maneuvered the bronze disc back, her tone regaining its usual composure. "As I said, Potions can have other effects, and this is probably one of those 'other effects'."
Herman touched his thinning head again. "Set my arm on fire, and shave my head while you're at it?"
Harry added, "If this can heal my arm, that would be great, but I'm worried it might not be a one-time use treatment."
Herman looked down and noticed some lines on his shoulder. Dark red lines, like some kind of fine runes, rose from beneath his skin, spreading along the curve of his shoulder blade to his upper arm. They were irregular in shape and had blurred edges, like watermarks branded on by fire.
It's almost invisible if you don't look closely, but it will give off a faint glow in the candlelight.
He stared at the tattoos for a long time. "Why are you wearing tattoos? How am I supposed to take the civil service exam with this?"
Harry's gaze also fell on the patterns, and she frowned slightly. "Try using magic to examine those patterns."
Herman hesitated for a moment, then carefully channeled his magic towards the patterns. This time, he didn't rush it all in like before, but only touched it tentatively. The flames rose again, darker than before, with an orange-red hue and fine golden threads along the edges, like some kind of living thing slowly unfolding on the surface of the skin.
Harry: "Remove it."
Herman immediately withdrew his magic, and the flames extinguished once more, as if they had never existed. He looked down at his arm, then looked up at Harry.
Harry leaned against the edge of the table, arms crossed over her chest, her expression suggesting she'd witnessed something unexpected but not entirely absurd. "Congratulations, it seems you've gained a new ability."
Herman raised his arm again, and the flames reignited with his will, quietly enveloping his forearm.
He looked at the flame, the tongue of fire dancing on his skin, but he still felt no pain, not even a slight burning sensation, as if it were blocked by a membrane.
He tried to shrink the flames, and they obediently contracted; he tried to spread them out, and they spread along his fingertips.