Chapter 118 Why Not Ask the Magical Owl?
Cohen hadn't actually studied alchemy.
Although he'd read a few books and theoretically, the "man in the bottle" should be quite talented in this area, Cohen preferred to get things for free rather than do it himself.
The old basilisk didn't understand alchemy, and neither did Sissoko.
"You can't expect a snake to fiddle with those bottles and jars..."
Sissoko said when Cohen's gaze fell on him.
"Because wizards are afraid of death, even though I've been around those bottles and jars for a while—"
"I haven't even mentioned asking you to do any work yet." Cohen's expression drooped.
This snake was all about one word:
lazy.
Fortunately, Voldemort wouldn't order the old basilisk to attack every day, otherwise Sissoko definitely wouldn't even bother to tip him off.
"I need to take some of your blood. After I study it, I should be able to figure out what made you immune to the Parseltongue's control..."
Cohen said to Sissoko—the other's head, which had been slightly lowered, lifted up again.
"So happy just because you don't have to work?"
Why does it feel like none of his bloodlines are normal?
The alcoholic nightmare unicorn, the lazy basilisk—compared to that, the unknown Dementor that made him up is the most human-like…
Cohen didn't even dare to imagine what that unknown behemoth he saw in his memories was.
With the plan settled, Sissoko stayed behind to keep watch, preparing to inform Cohen if Voldemort wanted to order the old basilisk to kill someone.
Cohen then drew some blood from the two basilisks. The basilisk scales were hard and tightly attached, so he had to use some rough methods.
"Ouch!" Sissoko twitched, a scale on his tail being pried up by Cohen using the Frostbite Staff—
this system-rewarded staff, though usually useless, was hard, and its tip could be inserted into the gaps in the scales to pry them open.
Cohen discovered that it was actually composed of three detachable parts, meaning the ice crystals at the top of the staff could be used… as a uniquely shaped scalpel.
Due to its chilling nature, it could even be used to stop bleeding. Cohen was quite pleased with this ingenious discovery.
"Bear with it, they might come back again." Cohen pressed the pried-open scales back and cast a healing spell.
The old basilisk didn't react as much; it remained silent while Cohen drew blood, as calm as if it were dead.
Having finished this work, Cohen was about to return to the castle with the Earl and the two vials of basilisk blood—the secret chamber shouldn't be lingered in, especially now that an attack had occurred.
Just to be safe, Cohen flew out of the pipe after becoming invisible.
Back in the Room of Requirement, Cohen removed the black cloth from the Earl's head.
"It felt like I'd been through a bizarre play…"
the Count said in a weak but lewd tone,
"Blindfolded…forced…multiple partners…you—"
"Let's just blindfold him again." Cohen, his face ashen, tied the black cloth back around the count's mouth this time.
It should have been left in the Chamber of Secrets.
With Sissoko keeping watch, Cohen didn't have to worry about Voldemort's underhanded tricks—No-Nose would never have guessed that Cohen had persuaded another basilisk to help with the surveillance, and he probably didn't even know there were two basilisks in the school, because Cohen had asked Sissoko before leaving, and it said it hadn't responded to the calls of the Slytherin heir the previous times.
Finally, he didn't have to waste time with Harry and the others—Cohen now had his own things to do.
Cohen placed the two vials of basilisk blood labeled with his name in the cupboard in the Room of Requirement, and then pulled out the huge pile of alchemy books he had brought from Burke Manor.
Previously, because the technical content here didn't help Cohen understand his bloodline, he hadn't read these books much.
Now it was different; Nicolas Flamel was right, Cohen now had to develop an "interest" in alchemy—if it weren't for the fact that two years hadn't passed yet, Cohen would have already used that key to ransack his inheritance room.
However, analyzing the differences in blood wasn't so difficult that it required Nicolas Flamel's help. Cohen discovered he indeed possessed a talent for it while reading these alchemical books.
But this talent felt somewhat different from normal "talent."
Cohen felt less like he was learning and more like he was undergoing "rehabilitation."
Just seeing the procedures was enough for related knowledge to surface in his mind; no experimental work was needed—he immediately understood which actions would lead to which results, like a seasoned alchemist regaining his memories. The statement in
The Alchemy Explained that Homunculus possessed a wide range of knowledge from birth
was, in a sense, true.
Cohen was rapidly comprehending this knowledge through reading; he had already grasped the basic structure and the methods of "extraction, repair, and fusion."
Without waiting for or asking for help, Cohen could now begin analyzing the differences in the two vials of basilisk blood, figuring out what the researchers at Burke Manor had injected into Sissoko to make him resist the control of the Parseltongue.
After obtaining a set of old alchemical equipment from the Room of Requirement, Cohen lit a fire.
The prerequisite for comparison was a more direct observation angle, and Cohen's first task was to extract magic from the basilisk's blood—magical creatures, including wizards, all contain magic in their blood, though they differ and share structural similarities.
To find the differences between two samples of magical blood, the common elements between them had to be removed—so he would first use Ramora fish skin as a filter to distill away blood components that were likely to have similar properties.
Ramora fish are magical creatures living in the Indian Ocean; their scaled skin is not only stable but also able to block magic, and is often used as a filter in alchemical equipment.
The International Wizarding Association has enacted anti-poaching laws to protect Ramora fish from illegal capture by wizards—but fortunately, Cohen didn't need to go out of his way to buy such a thing; it was already a component in normal alchemical equipment, and the Room of Requirement had found a still-intact Ramora fish skin filter among the old equipment they had salvaged from the junkyard.
The basilisk's blood was poured into a flask for distillation. The magic was trapped in the lower half of the hourglass-shaped flask, while ordinary substances rose to the top—this was the initial step in extracting the magic.
This step alone would take several days—because the basilisk's blood itself was an extremely difficult liquid to distill.
Watching the flask and waiting for progress was tedious and incredibly time-consuming.
Cohen wanted to proceed with the next step of analysis immediately—but he couldn't stay here every day, so…
why not ask the magical owl?
"Count, how's your love life going? Have you managed to seduce any new owls?"
Cohen suddenly asked the Count.
"I don't really want to talk about this," the Count said sullenly. "I don't believe in love, and I don't really need it—"
"Great!"
Cohen scratched the Count's head.
"Then you stay here and keep an eye on the heat for me. Call me when the upper half of the flask is filled with blood mist."
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(End of Chapter)