The dormitory, cleaned by rlin, didn’t have any strange slls.
However.
Albus Dumbledore and Nicolas Flal were still hesitant to approach—having witnessed the extrely disgusting scene earlier, they couldn’t help but feel so ntal resistance.
"What do you think of this combat style, Albus?" Nicolas Flal broke the silence, his voice deep and gentle, with a hint of a French accent.
"Do you want the truth?" Dumbledore didn’t answer imdiately but sighed slightly, his eyes still fixed on the figure of Ian standing at the doorway in the distance.
"It’s hard to evaluate, Nicolas."
"Ian’s combat style... indeed exceeded my expectations. His magic is not only powerful but also... full of unpredictability. And his way of thinking is completely different from others; you could even say, his very existence is an ’anomaly.’" Dumbledore wasn’t just subtly critiquing the ans Ian used on rlin.
At the sa ti.
His impressive insight also made him realize how much magical sophistication was hidden behind Ian’s ridiculous thods, power beyond what most wizards could imagine.
And in this aspect of insight, Nicolas Flal was not much weaker than Dumbledore.
"You’re right, Albus." Nicolas Flal nodded, his brow slightly furrowed. "Yes, his magic... even reminds of those ancient alchemical legends."
"His Transformation Technique has already broken conventional boundaries, even venturing into areas we never imagined." He paused, a touch of puzzlent creeping into his tone.
As soone who’s lived for over six hundred years, Nicolas Flal had a keen sense of "He seems to have a special influence on rlin... I’m not just talking about how rlin would do those disgusting things, but that rlin seems to have so special obsession with him."
"It’s precisely because of this obsession... that rlin..." Nicolas Flal didn’t finish his sentence, but it was clear Dumbledore understood his aning.
It’s nothing more than the reason why soone would hold it in for two thousand years. This situation cannot be explained by just one encounter or duel that would lead rlin to make such a ridiculous decision.
Regarding this.
Dumbledore shared the sa view, but he wasn’t keen to delve too much into it. Dumbledore lightly nodded, a complex emotion flashing in his eyes.
"Anyway, Ian is still just a child..." His tone carried a touch of helplessness and leniency, and Hogwarts’ old headmaster was always protective of his students.
And in Ian’s case, this trait was even more obvious.
No choice.
Who could bla him for having a soft spot for Ian?
Regarding this.
Nicolas Flal felt it was entirely appropriate and even quite approving, "He may be the most gifted student in Hogwarts’ history."
"Still a child, so outlandish behavior is expected. Besides, such talent and creativity might just be the essential qualities for becoming a great alchemist."
Nicolas Flal smiled slightly, his tone also filled with a fondness for Ian; after all, who doesn’t like an outstanding student? Even putting aside the unique things he saw in the little wizard, just from his magic today, it was enough to make him overlook any shortcomings in Ian.
After all.
That’s the fantasy all alchemists yearn for...
...
The two old wizards were conversing.
anwhile, Ian was standing in front of rlin, lightly tapping his palm with his wand while muttering, "I can’t believe I never noticed you’re an old freak."
Hearing this.
rlin rolled his eyes.
He wanted to ask who was truly the old freak here, but in the end, he swallowed the words back.
"My Confundus Charm cannot affect you, so you should have guessed by now, shouldn’t you?" rlin said matter-of-factly, with a hint of questioning Ian’s intelligence.
The little wizard rolled his eyes too.
"I guess it’s my lack of imagination. I never expected a wizard could live so long." Ian said while raising his wand, giving it a gentle wave in the air. Suddenly, a silvery light burst from the wand’s tip, drifting like threads and slowly condensing into letters in the air.
It was the English spelling of "Ririm."
[N, I, L, R, E, M]
The letters swayed and danced in the air, and as Ian gently tapped his wand again, their sequence rearranged themselves into a new order.
[M-E-R-L-I-N]
This was the English spelling of rlin’s na.
"This trick of na rearranging really is intriguing. I can only say you’re the true Voldemort." Ian found it hard to comnt on such familiar na-ordering thods.
He couldn’t help but make a heart-felt jab.
"Ha."
rlin only smiled slightly, offering no other response, only watching Ian with a peculiar expression, as if there was sothing he wanted to say but was hesitating.
"What do I have to do for you to remove the virus you infected my body with?" In comparison to other matters, at this mont, rlin’s primary concern was his own health.
mories he couldn’t bear to recall.
He really didn’t want to beco a source of plague again. Recalling his past experiences, rlin couldn’t help but continue using various modified versions of Purification Magic on himself.
However.
He could sense little effectiveness himself.
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