Chapter 174. Confident Lockhart and Wesson's Research
Adrian Wesson had expected that, once he heard the compliment, Gilderoy Lockhart would preen with smug delight—or get carried away with himself. Unexpectedly, Lockhart looked perfectly calm.
"Really?" He nodded slightly, then went on, "Then… let me put it this way. If we set aside my identity as an author and an adventurer, can I be called powerful?"
Wesson froze for a moment.
Such a strange question… did Lockhart ask that?
It didn't sound like the Lockhart who was forever immersed in bragging about himself.
Wesson looked him over again and found nothing amiss: the blond hair was impeccably styled, and his clothes were perfectly normal.
After letting the Tree of Wisdom analyse him, there were still no alerts of anything unusual.
Lockhart was still Lockhart, not replaced or under anyone's control.
"Er…" Wesson was briefly at a loss. After a moment, he said, "What do you think, Professor Lockhart?"
Unexpectedly, Lockhart didn't rush to refute him or change the subject as usual; instead, he fell into thought.
An eerie silence stretched in the corridor.
"Professor Lockhart," Wesson asked in a low voice, "are you in some kind of trouble?"
Right now Lockhart was very unlike Lockhart.
Just then, Lockhart's eyes suddenly grew extraordinarily bright, and a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
"Professor Wesson, just you wait," he said loudly, enunciating every word with unusual clarity. "Before long, you'll see a brand-new me."
Wesson frowned slightly. "What do you mean?"
"You'll understand. I'll prove myself." Leaving that, Lockhart strode off in a hurry.
As he turned, Wesson saw in his eyes a radiant self-confidence the likes of which he had never shown before.
Lockhart's figure quickly vanished around the corner.
Wesson stood where he was, puzzled for quite a while.
What on earth… has got into him again?
Judging from what he knew of Lockhart, the man was probably about to pull some stunt.
Perhaps because of that Valentine's spectacle Lockhart had staged, the panic on campus had eased quite a bit, and talk of the Petrification incidents was gradually fading.
After that puzzling exchange with Wesson, Lockhart suddenly stopped being so active.
Wesson ran into Lockhart a few times in the corridors.
What drew attention was that Lockhart's spirits seemed better and better; every day he looked full of vigour.
Maybe he was preparing something in private. Who could say?
Time soon slipped into the end of February.
Winter was drawing to a close, yet the weather was still bitterly cold.
At midday, on the frigid edge of the Forbidden Forest, Wesson led Luna along a path where the snow was melting.
Luna looked curious, her dirigible plum earrings swaying gently in the cold wind.
"Sorry to drag you out in this cold, Luna," Wesson said, his breath turning white in the air.
Luna shook her head. "It's all right. But where are we going now?"
"The Forbidden Forest," Wesson replied.
In truth, they were already within its bounds.
Luna swung her arms idly. As if something occurred to her, she tilted her head. "Isn't the Forbidden Forest off-limits?"
"Ah, yes. It's strictly off-limits to students because it's very dangerous—" Wesson blinked. "But with a professor along, it's fine."
"Brilliant," Luna's eyes lit up. "I haven't been in there before."
"If we're lucky, you might see a unicorn," Wesson said. "Or, once we're done here, we can go look for one."
"Mm." Luna nodded. "I'd rather look for signs that a Crumple-Horned Snorkack lives here."
The two went deeper into the Forest.
Wesson led Luna through a tract of withered trees, then round a small lake, until they finally reached a little clearing.
Here, a beech tree stood in majestic stillness.
The beech towered to a frightening height; four or five adults holding hands would be needed to encircle its thick trunk. Its branches stretched out in all directions, like the hands of a giant.
"It looks very healthy."
Luna tipped back her head and let out a soft gasp.
Yes—this beech was precisely the reason Wesson had come.
He had found it while wandering.
From the first glance, he had known this tree was no ordinary specimen.
He could vaguely sense something special about it, but couldn't be completely sure.
So he had brought Luna here; perhaps her ability would let her see something.
Wesson stepped up and rested a hand lightly on the beech's trunk, then turned to ask Luna, "Luna, have you noticed anything… unusual?"
"Something unusual?"
Luna took a step back, narrowed her eyes slightly, and looked up at the beech.
"Mm…" After a glance at Wesson, she fixed her gaze on the tree again and said, "Oh, if this counts as unusual—the little sprites around you have all been drawn to it; not a single one stayed."
Wesson nodded thoughtfully.
It seemed his sense wasn't wrong: this beech was highly sensitive to the mutagen he exuded.
In other words, the tree was born gifted and worth cultivating.
Wesson closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
When he opened them again, a flicker of green light passed through his pupils.
"How about now?" he asked softly.
Luna blinked, then looked to his side and behind him.
In her eyes, the multicoloured little sprites that had been drifting about had all vanished.
"How curious," she said, puzzled. "Did you hide the sprites that follow you? I can't find them."
"Ah—yes," Wesson said with a smile.
By now, Wesson could already control the mutagen in his body at will.
His mutagen was generated along with his magic.
Which meant that so long as he temporarily drew in his magic, he could stop the mutagen from being produced.
It was just that completely drawing in his magic took a bit of practice.
He had only recently got the knack of it.
A dozen seconds after he pulled in his magic, the beech before him suddenly stirred.
The beech began to shudder violently; the snow on its branches tumbled down, turning into a glittering mist in the sunlight.
"It seems anxious," Luna said softly.
That was beyond Wesson's expectations. It looked as though this beech was even more unusual than he'd imagined.
When he cut off the supply of mutagen, it actually showed a kind of anxious emotion.
"Eldra."
[I'm here.]
Wesson at once had the Tree of Wisdom parse its condition.
[Species: Beech]
[Level: 1]
[Status: Growing (50%)]
So fast—its growth surprised Wesson.
This was only his second visit to the tree; counting the last time, he had spent barely a dozen minutes with it in total.
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