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Chapter 175 - 175: Fragment of the Emerald Tablet

France.

Holding the dragonhide card, Lucien walked through the bustling streets.

The golden key pattern on the card shifted direction from time to time, guiding him toward new locations.

For now, he had no time to appreciate the foreign scenery. Lucien's thoughts returned to Dumbledore's words before they parted:

"Lucien, watching you register as an Animagus at the Ministry of Magic reminded me—your Transfiguration has reached such a level. Why not try writing a thesis?"

A thesis… how nostalgic.

Lucien readily accepted Dumbledore's suggestion.

Systematically organizing knowledge was itself one of the criteria for measuring true mastery.

As for the topic, Lucien considered Chimera Transfiguration or Magical Creature Transfiguration.

The former was a complex application of layered Transfiguration and fine-grained control, while the latter represented an entirely new branch of Transfiguration that would undoubtedly cause a major stir.

Lucien was not afraid of others learning his methods.

First, both Chimera Transfiguration and Magical Creature Transfiguration were extraordinarily difficult.

Especially Magical Creature Transfiguration—the more Lucien used it, the more he felt that it demanded an exceptional level of talent.

Second, Lucien was confident that by the time others managed to glimpse his back and follow in his footsteps, he would already have gone much farther.

Never mind. Only children make choices. I'll write both.

After Lucien arrived in a secluded alley, he saw the pattern on the card in his hand change once more. The golden key stood upright, its tip pointing straight toward—

Lucien lifted his head and looked up at the clear sky.

No way…

Swirls appeared in his eyes as Lucien activated his Eye of Peering Magic, observing the sky.

In an instant, the blazing sun vanished, replaced by a silvery expanse.

Silver filled nearly his entire field of vision.

The swirls in his eyes expanded rapidly, and Lucien discerned profound patterns across the silver surface, vast and powerful magic flowing quietly and in perfect order within them.

Lucien noticed something suddenly emerging from the silvery plane. It was a rounded hemisphere, with a black aperture at its peak slowly rotating until it aimed directly at him.

Through his Eye of Peering Magic, Lucien saw magic rapidly converging toward the opening, as though it were about to erupt at any moment.

Yet his intuition sensed no danger, and a few guesses formed in his mind.

A sphere of multicolored magic shot out from the opening.

In the next instant, it burst into brilliant fireworks.

At the sight, Lucien's lips curved into a smile. This person was indeed interesting.

The silent fireworks did not fade immediately. Instead, they drifted through the air, rearranging themselves into a single word:

"Bonjour"

Lucien recognized it at once. It was French for "hello," a common greeting.

He drew his wand and traced a few magical marks, forming the same greeting.

Immediately afterward, a hazy white beam of light descended, enveloping Lucien and lifting him upward.

Lucien did not resist, merely grumbling inwardly.

A silver spaceship, a white beam of light—wasn't this the standard alien routine?

Yet neither the silver craft in the sky, nor the silent fireworks from earlier, nor this ascent in broad daylight was noticed by any Muggle.

As Lucien was fully drawn into the ship, the card in his hand automatically crumbled into dust.

He was just about to complain inwardly that it truly lived up to the reputation of a legendary alchemist, even pure dragonhide being single-use—

When he sharply noticed that the dust instantly melted into the silver floor the moment it touched it.

Recycling?

Alchemy really was everywhere.

Lucien looked up and saw an old man standing before him.

His first impression was of extreme age.

Lucien had never seen anyone so old. The man's white hair had almost lost all color, turning a stark, absolute white, and the wrinkles on his face ran deep like ravines.

He wore a pale, crescent-colored robe, yet the emaciated frame beneath it was clearly visible.

The old man floated slowly toward Lucien.

Floated… well, Lucien glanced at the man's robe trailing along the ground and deduced that he must be using something akin to a hovering device.

No wonder Jacob had once asked whether he was a ghost.

Looking at him now, he really did resemble one even more.

Despite the flood of thoughts, Lucien still bowed politely and greeted him.

"Hello, Mr. Nicolas Flamel."

Yes. The old man before him was the legendary alchemist, the creator of the Philosopher's Stone, the immortal wizard who had lived for over six centuries.

"Hello, Lucien."

"Just as Albus and Newt said, you are indeed an extraordinary young wizard."

Nicolas's voice was slow and faint. He extended a hand, moving with great care, as though worried that applying too much force might cause it to break.

Seeing the gesture, Lucien stepped forward and extended his own hand, preparing to shake it.

He had to restrain his strength. He could not afford to crush this man's hand.

The Elixir of Life refined by Nicolas Flamel using the Philosopher's Stone could ward off death, but it could not halt aging. His body was already far too frail and decayed.

Lucien gently clasped Nicolas's hand.

[Ding!]

[Loan triggered: Fragment of the Emerald Tablet (Annual Loan)]

The Emerald Tablet?

Lucien remembered it as an ancient stone tablet from Egypt, rumored to contain the foundational knowledge of alchemy.

An annual loan… and only a fragment? This was the first time the system had offered a partial loan.

After the brief handshake, Lucien withdrew his hand and quickly scanned the loan information in his mind.

Another talent-based loan… Alchemy, Potions…

"Child, your eyes are very special."

Nicolas's words startled Lucien, and he immediately stopped checking the new loan.

Could Nicolas detect the Eye of Peering Magic?

Lucien looked at him. The alchemist's eyes were deep, deeper than any Lucien had ever seen.

Centuries of time had weathered them, yet that vast accumulation of years had also honed an extraordinary insight.

"Haha, child, there's no need to be nervous. I was merely marveling at it. It's rare these days to see someone use such ancient magic to modify their body."

Ancient magic?

Lucien recalled the description of the Eye of Peering Magic loan. Combined with Potions, Alchemy, and Transfiguration… much like the chimera handbook, was this another inheritance from an ancient wizard?

Ancient…

Lucien looked at the gentle old man before him. Six hundred years ago—wasn't that ancient history?

Magic regarded as ancient knowledge today was simply the magic Nicolas Flamel had grown accustomed to using.

A living witness to history itself, an extraordinary alchemist, a powerful and learned wizard.

It was no surprise that Nicolas could discern the uniqueness of his eyes.

Still, Lucien couldn't help but wonder. If such body-modifying magic existed in ancient times and brought so much convenience, why did Nicolas maintain his aged body?

With his mastery of alchemy, even altering part of himself should have made life far more comfortable.

As if sensing Lucien's confusion, Nicolas chuckled softly and said,

"I do miss the days when I was agile, strong, and full of energy. But aging is also a different kind of experience. The feeling of fragility is rather peculiar, wouldn't you say?"

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