The salty sea breeze swept in with a cool edge, carrying a refreshing chill.
The old man walked toward the distant airship, his gentle voice drifting faintly back to the courtyard, where Shirley and Adam stood staring at each other, their eyes swirling with barely contained shock.
"Did I hear that right?!" Shirley's deep red eyes narrowed slightly in disbelief as she clutched Adam's sleeve, her voice rising unconsciously.
"That old gentleman is Nicolas Flamel? The legendary figure who created the Philosopher's Stone?!"
Adam, however, was entirely absorbed by the book in his hands, Legendary Alchemy. He didn't even look up, responding casually.
"Maybe. According to magical history, Nicolas Flamel successfully created the Philosopher's Stone in 1382. If that's true, he'd be over six hundred years old by now. Didn't expect him to be into opera, though."
Shirley stared at Adam, incredulous. "How are you so calm about this? That's Nicolas Flamel! The most famous alchemist in history, and the only one confirmed to have made a Philosopher's Stone!"
"That stone doesn't just turn metal into gold—it can create the Elixir of Life! Aren't you even a little curious?"
"When I was in France, I heard stories about him," Adam said, still focused on the book. "For the past six hundred years, wherever there are wizards, you'll hear tales of Nicolas Flamel."
Shirley leaned closer, pressing the back of her hand to his forehead and muttering, "No fever…"
Then, unable to resist, she gently squished his cheeks, as if that might jolt him into realizing how shocking this news was.
Adam sighed, swatting her hand away lightly and finally looking up from the book.
"Actually, wizards who've deeply studied ancient alchemy prefer to call it the Sorcerer's Stone," he said.
The sparse shadows of the trees danced across the book's cover as Adam traced the faded letters. "It's not just a term that pops up in old texts like The Emerald Tablet. It's the Holy Grail of alchemists—the legendary fifth element."
"Thirteenth-century scrolls mention seven rumored appearances of the stone, but time has washed away the clues." Adam ran his fingers along the book's gilded edges. "The most famous one, of course, belonged to Merlin."
He flipped to the book's final page, revealing a yellowed, hand-drawn map. His finger landed heavily on a mark for Cornwall.
"Legend says Merlin turned the granite of the Scilly Isles into a mountain of gold, raising a golden war banner for King Arthur in a blaze of light. Even more incredible…"
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Adam lowered his voice as the sea breeze rustled past. "When enemy forces set up a barrier across the English Channel, Merlin used the power of that stone to command the tides, parting the sea like a giant curtain."
"And with Merlin's disappearance, that Sorcerer's Stone vanished into history. Later alchemists believed it was likely the most powerful magical stone ever created."
Shirley frowned slightly, her gaze shifting from the map to Adam's face.
"But we're not ancient alchemists, so let's just call it the Philosopher's Stone, okay? Wait—since you know so much, did you already guess that old man was Nicolas Flamel when you saw him?"
"Of course not," Adam said, holding up the book. "The preface of this book covers all this."
He showed it to Shirley, who eagerly took it, flipping through the yellowed pages and even shaking it upside down as if expecting something to fall out.
She squinted at the spine, inspecting it for hidden secrets.
Adam rolled his eyes, flicking her forehead lightly and snatching back the book, which bore handwritten notes from Nicolas Flamel himself.
He had a feeling Shirley's next move would be to toss it into a fire to see if it revealed anything strange.
"Aren't you curious?" Shirley said, rubbing her slightly red forehead and puffing out her cheeks. "There could be clues in there about how to make a Philosopher's Stone! I mean, Mr. Flamel seemed pretty impressed with you."
"Who in their right mind would hide something that important in a book?" Adam replied. "This was just a chance meeting. There's no way Flamel planned this."
"And even if he did want to share something, it'd probably be after I've mastered alchemy…"
Adam set the books on a small table under the shade of a tree, glancing at the alchemical device at his feet.
He muttered under his breath about how much a combat-ready machine tweaked by Nicolas Flamel could fetch on the market.
"Wait, didn't you say that was an automatic lawn trimmer?" Shirley teased, raising an eyebrow with a playful smirk.
"It can be a lawn trimmer," Adam said without missing a beat, his face completely straight. "But Flamel's name is the real value."
"And while we're at it, care to explain why the watermelon juice I drank today came out of that alchemical machine?"
Shirley grabbed his sleeve again, flashing her small, sharp grin, her eyes glinting with mischief.
"No way! That was definitely made with the juicer in the kitchen," Adam said, unfazed, as he packed up his repair tools. "Go check if you don't believe me. The watermelon I cut is still sitting next to the oven you and Grandma Tina use."
Shirley let out a cute huff, then ran off to grab the plate of watermelon.
Adam exhaled in relief, wiping the cold sweat from his brow.
Truth be told, he'd dismantled the kitchen juicer two days ago. It was just a hollow shell now.
…
Time spent immersed in alchemy and studying magical creatures passed quickly. The summer heat faded, and the evening sea breeze carried the crisp scent of autumn.
Adam, reading in his room at night, now needed a jacket, and even Amy the cat wore a tiny scarf knitted by Tina.
With September 1st and the start of Hogwarts approaching, less than a week remained.
In the Gobi region of the suitcase, inside the underground nest of a Snallygaster…
"You can tell this last-hatched Snallygaster is growing well," Newt said. "Its venomous spines are hardening nicely."
"And those blue-green wings are getting tougher. It won't be long before it's ready to try flying."
Newt carefully extracted venom from the young Snallygaster's spines, storing it in a glass vial.
Adam gently cradled the creature, placing it back in its nest with slow, careful movements.
The little Snallygaster, recognizing Adam's scent, nuzzled his palm and even tried to climb up his trouser leg after he set it down.
Adam crouched to play with it for a bit.
The other Snallygaster from its clutch had already gone off with its parents to learn flying techniques, leaving this one to gaze longingly at the sky from its nest.
"You don't always have to focus on the sky," Adam said. "Snallygasters don't fly all the time."
"Try working on your sprinting speed on the ground. I call it High-Speed Dash."
"And when you curl up in your wing-cocoon to sleep, you could practice ramming trees to build toughness. Combine that with High-Speed Dash and charge enemies with your spiky back. That move's called Reckless Slam…"
Newt, who had just stored the venom in a cooling box, called out from the hidden underground nest.
"Adam, we should head out."
"Coming!" Adam replied, giving the Snallygaster an encouraging pat before setting it down.
As he turned, he didn't notice the creature's determined little eyes nodding firmly at his back.
Outside the cave, Adam watched Newt pack up and asked, puzzled, "Professor Newt, aren't we still feeding the Knarl?"
Newt shook his head, his voice gentle. "The female Knarl is in mating season, roaming the marshlands looking for a male. We won't see her at her nest for a while."
"So, I'm heading to Diagon Alley to buy some sheep for the marsh area, plus a few other things. Tina suggested I take you and Shirley along for a trip."
"And with your Hogwarts start date coming up, I've got something to give you. I think you'll love it."