"No, no, no! You're too old for tomb raiding! It's not suitable for you! Tomb raiding is dangerous! There's toxic gas! Traps! Quicksand! And extremely perilous curses!"
"There are also mummies, ghosts and spirits, gargoyles and hellhounds, mirror mazes, elemental storms, big-headed corpses, blue-eyed fox zombies, and sea monkeys with banshees!"
You could see from Ian's attempts to scare Nicolas Flamel.
He was truly panicked.
There was no choice.
If Nicolas Flamel actually went to dig up King Arthur's grave, how would he face the people of the Misty Illusion Realm? Teacher Morgan might even string him up and give him a thrashing with a whip.
"You can do it? Why can't I?"
Nicolas Flamel showed no sign of stopping.
One automated tomb raiding tool after another was born in his hands.
The craftsmanship was extraordinary.
And the speed was akin to a ruthless alchemy machine.
"I'm different! Different! My family has been in this business for generations! We have unique skills! I know Eastern magic! Feng Shui Dragon Seeking and Gold Division and Positioning!"
"Also, Mountain Shifting Armor Technique and Kuixing Kick, Two-Finger Cave Exploration, and Tomb Raider Finger—don't worry if you don't understand the names, just feel the awe-inspiring greatness."
Ian completely didn't expect that he would stimulate Nicolas Flamel so greatly.
"Hmm? Isn't your family in the business of alchemy for generations?" Nicolas Flamel clearly did not believe Ian's nonsense, and the magic the little wizard spoke of was something he had never heard of.
"Starting with my generation, my descendants will all learn my skills, so isn't that also generational..." Ian somewhat guiltily tried to argue.
He quickly grabbed Nicolas Flamel, who still wanted to create some other tools, and conveniently confiscated all the tools Nicolas Flamel had made for the deed.
It was all a coincidence.
It wasn't that the little wizard deliberately waited until Nicolas Flamel finished the last stroke of the magic rune before rushing up.
"Heh, hoarding your spoils!"
Nicolas Flamel, losing interest, tossed the last tool in his hand to Ian, the little wizard didn't even know how to respond to the whims of this elder.
"You see, haven't I shared all my hard-earned findings with you for research? Why suffer, let us young people suffer enough."
Ian was truly worried that Nicolas Flamel would abandon his position as Professor of Alchemy and switch to being a tomb raider.
"What suffering? Do you call that suffering?"
"Fate is quite particular, if it makes you suffer when you're young, undoubtedly, there will be more suffering to come in your old age... think of Albus."
"When I met him, he was a twenty-year-old little one, while I'd been famous for centuries already, watching him rise and fall step by step."
"To be honest, I rarely have friendships that transcend age, but Albus is among that few, together we captured an iron belly and discovered twelve uses for dragon blood."
"He was so talented and brilliant, it surprised me, but alas, fate hasn't been as kind to him as it was to me, dealing him blow after heavier blow."
"He is the one who truly suffers." Luckily, Nicolas Flamel did not persist and returned to his desk, and Ian dared not continue the conversation on Headmaster Dumbledore's evaluation.
"Headmaster Dumbledore indeed had a hard time."
He could only play dumb with a concept swap for a response.
"Sigh."
Nicolas Flamel sighed heavily, his eyes returned to the "First Sand" of the Hourglass Sand Ian took out, and the alchemy formula Ian had recorded.
"However, destiny does have a certain fairness, eventually, it still favored Albus by providing solutions to many crucial mysteries."
"Perhaps he really could…" Nicolas Flamel suddenly stopped himself, as if reluctant to let the little wizard learn about some earth-shattering matter too early.
He had realized.
This little guy was simply audacious, if exposed to such crazy thoughts at a young age, who knows what more insane ideas Ian could come up with as he grows.
Others could be spoken of.
This little fellow not only had exceptional ability and talent but also inexplicable luck... that's somewhat scary, if he wanted to do something, there might not be anyone who could stop him in the future.
Not only that.
The inscriptions on the little wizard's arm, and what he felt... Nicolas Flamel suddenly somewhat understood why Grindelwald was also here in this school.
"Leave the things with me, I'll fix your clock, and help you decode these magic runes, and your contract... there's indeed quite a workload you've thrown at me."
"But who am I to complain when I am, after all, fated to be swept up in the lives of you modern trendsetters?" Nicolas Flamel, perhaps due to reminiscing about past friendships with Albus Dumbledore, seemed a bit sentimental. Upon sitting back down, he looked somewhat sighing and lamenting.
"Thank you for your help! Professor!"
Seeing Nicolas Flamel wanted to be alone for a moment, Ian was immediately perceptive enough to give a slight bow of gratitude and then turned towards the door.
"No need to thank, after all, I am quite interested in these items as well, and... your remuneration has been generous enough, far more lavish than most historical gifts recorded." Nicolas Flamel waved at Ian, seemingly diving back into research with the items Ian left.
As the little wizard departed.
Once the door closed.
He lifted his head, gazing at the door Ian had exited.
"I'm really curious what other oddities he might unearth…" Nicolas Flamel seemed like a different person, his previous sighing and sentimental mood vanished.
His tone even carried a hint of anticipation—a clear reminder that in old age, one's acting skills truly do improve; Nicolas Flamel perhaps only knew the purpose behind constructing those tools himself, as those with a knack for amusement seldom dive in personally, rather enjoying the spectacle.
"Could it really be Merlin's tomb he's discovered?" After retracting his gaze, looking at the heap of black sand on the table, Nicolas Flamel's astonishment wasn't feigned.
He was genuinely stunned several times by the strange artifacts the little wizard unveiled one after another.
"Swish, swish, swish~"
After carefully packaging all the black sand into a vial, Nicolas Flamel did not immediately commence his research; instead, he took out an envelope and scribbled a few lines.
[Hurry! Quick, quick, quick!!!]
Nicolas Flamel merely wrote one sentence, but he used many punctuation marks. As soon as he finished, he sealed the letter and handed it to the House-Elf appearing just in time in the office.
"Prolo! Quickly deliver it to our mistress, if she's still upset just tie her up and bring her over, I've discovered something that Dumbledore hasn't!"
Nicolas Flamel eagerly instructed the House-Elf.
"Yes, master, Prolo will faithfully carry out your orders! However, Prolo can't kidnap the mistress, only provide suggestions on how to punish you, which has always been effective, she will surely rush to Hogwarts impatiently." Let's just say this House-Elf might not yet be at the level of the Malfoy family's Dobby.
However.
It seems to have a bit of a rebellious streak—without giving Nicolas Flamel time to retort, the House-Elf's figure disappeared from the office once again.
"Sigh!"
Nicolas Flamel lowered his raised hand.
His uneasy and depressed mood did not last long, soon after, upon adjusting his state of mind, he immediately focused his energy on the magic runes on the desk.
"Tch, tch, never thought I'd end up working like this." Though he said this, Nicolas Flamel's tone was light and his analysis was more meticulous than ever.
He was indeed full of motivation.
Not just for the love of alchemy.
But also because he saw a certain possibility.
A thousand years later.
Perhaps he and his wife... might glimpse this world once more.