Leonard had thought that only heaven, earth, and he himself knew about obtaining the Philosopher's Stone. How had Lucius suddenly appeared, already knowing it was in his possession?
For a moment, Leonard genuinely considered silencing him.
But before doing that, he needed to know how Lucius had guessed the stone was with him. What else did he know? Had he told anyone?
Leonard kept his expression under control, but Midgard at his side clearly couldn't. The shock on her face made it obvious she wasn't good at hiding her emotions.
"Oh?" Leonard asked calmly, feigning composure. "And how did you know the Philosopher's Stone is with me?"
"I simply assumed you would need the Philosopher's Stone to brew the Elixir of Immortality," Lucius said respectfully. "If it was something you needed, then acquiring it with your strength would naturally be effortless."
"So," Leonard said with a faint smile, "you have quite a bit of confidence in me."
As soon as he heard that, Leonard realized Lucius must have been wildly speculating about the identity of Ranrok and had somehow stumbled onto the right conclusion by sheer luck.
If that was the case, then Lucius didn't need to die just yet.
"Not at all," Lucius continued earnestly. "In my opinion, You-Know-Who is no match for you. Taking the Philosopher's Stone from him would have been easy."
Leonard nodded. "You guessed correctly. The Philosopher's Stone is indeed in my possession. I trust you understand its value. So… what are your intentions?"
"If there is anything you require of me, please command me freely," Lucius said, his tone fervent.
Leonard glanced at him, gave a slight nod, then turned and left Malfoy Manor with Midgard.
The fervor on Lucius's face lingered for a long time. Only after he was certain Ranrok and Midgard had truly left did it slowly fade, replaced by calm indifference.
"I wonder if this will be enough to make Mr. Ranrok trust me," Lucius murmured, taking a sip of wine before falling silent.
The Philosopher's Stone symbolized both longevity and wealth, temptations that were nearly impossible for most people to resist.
The poor craved money. The rich but aging craved life.
But Lucius, barely into middle age and obscenely wealthy, felt no desperate longing for the stone. At most, he had a sense of curiosity and possessiveness toward such a treasure, not nearly enough to justify genuine fanaticism. Everything he had just shown was an act for Lanlock's benefit.
Wizards lived at least two hundred years. Lucius wasn't even forty yet. He had more than enough time to squander. As for money, his assets alone could generate mountains of Galleons in no time at all.
Still, a subordinate with no desires was not someone easily trusted. To choose a side, Lucius needed more than a token of loyalty. He needed a reason to follow Ranrok.
The Philosopher's Stone was a perfect excuse. It was precious enough, yet not something he truly wanted. If things went poorly, he could always withdraw without loss.
The only question was whether he could fool Mr. Ranrok.
...
"So how did Lucius know you took the Philosopher's Stone?" Midgard asked when they returned to the werewolf settlement.
"He guessed," Leonard said. "He followed the wrong clues and somehow landed on the right answer. I almost lost control and killed him on the spot."
He rubbed his face, easing the discomfort left behind by his disguise.
"But letting him guess might not be a bad thing," Midgard said thoughtfully. "At least now he understands your strength and knows he needs you. The Philosopher's Stone is a legendary artifact, after all. It can turn stone into gold and create the Elixir of Life."
"What would Lucius even want the Philosopher's Stone for?" Leonard shook his head. "He already has money, and he's not old. He doesn't need either of its functions. He only brought it up to show that he has something to ask of me."
"Maybe he was excited when he first learned it existed," he continued, "but once he thinks it through, he'll realize the stone is meaningless to someone like him."
Midgard mulled over it for a long while, then gave up with a shake of her head. "Forget it. I don't understand why you go through all this trouble. Anyway, things should be quiet for a while now, right?"
"Quiet?" Leonard laughed softly. "What are you thinking? Contact Marcus and have him hand over the estate to Lucius. From now on, our business will be partnered with him. Haven't you always wanted to move into Diagon Alley? Talk to Lucius. He'll take care of it."
"Will he really agree?" Midgard asked.
"Does he dare refuse?" Leonard snorted coldly. "That man still hasn't learned his lesson. Keep pressuring him. Don't be polite. Take whatever the Malfoy family has. I want to see how long he can hold out."
Lucius still hadn't produced Voldemort's diary. Leonard didn't know whether Lucius was clinging to some faint, meaningless hope or planning to use the diary to threaten Voldemort, but Leonard felt it belonged in his own hands.
In a sense, that diary was also the key to the Chamber of Secrets.
Leonard had his eye on the Basilisk inside the Chamber. A magical creature that rare only appeared once in a century. Wouldn't it be a waste not to kill it and turn it into materials to feed his plants?
"Fine," Midgard said, rolling her eyes. "I have no idea what kind of relationship you and that Malfoy even have anymore. All this back-and-forth has completely confused me."
She shut down mentally and waved it off. "Just take Claudia back tonight."
"Not yet," Leonard said, shaking his head. "The place is covered in blood, and the fence still isn't fixed. It wouldn't be convenient for Claudia. Let her stay with you for the night."
"I'll go back and clean up," he added.
Leonard's botanical garden was currently strewn with corpses. It was better not to let Claudia see it and get frightened.
Midgard Apparated with Leonard back to the botanical garden deep within the Forbidden Forest.
The remaining eight treants were cleaning up the battlefield, lifting chunks of flesh and corpses from the ground and burying them beside Leonard's plants as fertilizer.
Even Midgard had trouble handling the sight of the bodies scattered everywhere, along with the unmentionable, censored mess smeared across the ground.
"They died horribly," she said, deliberately averting her gaze. "Don't you find this disgusting?"
"Then don't look," Leonard replied casually.
This wasn't even the worst it could be. After all, some of his newly transplanted plants hadn't fully matured yet.
Take the parasitic pods and the man-eating flowers, for example. Those were the truly cruel ones. One treated humans as living seedbeds, parasitizing them to reproduce. The other simply swallowed its victims alive, dissolving them with digestive fluids.
Which of those was less cruel than the pulped flesh on the ground? At least these people died quickly.
If the parasitic pods or the man-eating flowers had been used, that would have been true hell. By now, Midgard would probably still be hearing the screams of the wizards, corroded by digestive fluids or writhing as the pods took root inside them.