"I agree."
Dumbledore agreed to Lynn's request readily, almost without thinking.
When he spoke, his attention seemed more focused on the cup of steaming, exceptionally sweet-looking "black tea" in front of him.
Perhaps describing it as syrup would be more accurate.
He was using a small spoon to scoop up a bit to feed the large, somewhat listless-looking red bird on the perch nearby.
In the eyes of this Headmaster, an upright, kind-hearted, nature-loving Hufflepuff student wanting to reclaim a small plot of land in the school to plant some flowers and grass...
This was simply the most reasonable request imaginable, perfectly in line with Hogwarts' aim of encouraging students to develop personal interests. How could he refuse?
However, just as Lynn was ecstatic and preparing to say his thanks and leave, the system notification sound rang out in his mind at an inopportune moment:
[Ding! Mission issued! Please speak up for the suffering "Phoenix" in front of you and protest against Headmaster Dumbledore's "atrocity"! Reward: An egg]
[Note: Guess what's inside? No prize even if you guess right~]
Lynn's gaze involuntarily turned toward the large red bird known as the "Phoenix."
He sized up Fawkes carefully, muttering in his heart: 'You call this a "Phoenix"?' It was a far cry from the magnificent, noble, and sacred divine bird image he had imagined.
Although the feathers of the Fawkes before him were brilliantly colored, they looked somewhat disheveled at the moment, and its eyes were filled with... disdain and resistance toward the spoonful of sweet liquid being held to its beak.
Lynn felt it looked more like a relatively large red bird in a bad mood.
"Chirp chirp!" Fawkes turned its head away, dodging the spoonful of "loving drink."
It let out a short, sharp cry with a clear tone of protest.
[Language Mastery] instantly transmitted the meaning of the cry into Lynn's mind.
Lynn looked at Dumbledore, who had a "loving" face and was insistent on feeding the bird.
Then he looked at Fawkes, whose face was practically screaming "Help," and spoke up with some trepidation: "Um... Professor."
Dumbledore turned back, his eyes carrying a gentle inquiry, thinking Lynn had something else to say.
"Your Phoenix... it's telling you to stop," Lynn relayed as tactfully as possible.
"Hmm? Stop?"
Dumbledore blinked, a look of perfect confusion on his face, as if he didn't understand what this "stop" referred to.
He looked at the spoon in his hand, then at Fawkes.
Lynn complained wildly in his head: 'Can't you see such obvious resistance? It's practically written "Don't touch me" on its face!'
Just then, Fawkes also seemed to finally realize that the little wizard in front of it could actually understand its words!
Its gem-like eyes instantly lit up, and it immediately turned to Lynn, a clear thought being transmitted over:
"Hello, little wizard who can communicate. My name is Fawkes."
Lynn responded subconsciously: "Hello, Fawkes. My name is Lynn."
Watching this normal interaction between a human and a bird, the interest on Dumbledore's face grew even stronger. Far from being surprised, he showed a gratified smile.
After all, in the magical world, while communicating with magical creatures was rare, it wasn't entirely impossible; magic was just that wondrous.
The "secret talk" on this side continued.
Fawkes' thoughts carried a strong sense of indignation: "Tell this stubborn old man! If he dares to bring that cup of cloyingly sweet 'sh*t'—which could make me undergo Nirvana again instantly—near my mouth again, I will..." (▽д▽)
The words that followed clearly involved some not-so-elegant, even somewhat smelly threats.
As Lynn listened, his mouth twitched, and he quickly weighed in his mind how to relay this to the Headmaster. (⊙_☉)
Dumbledore, seeing the ever-changing expressions on Lynn's face, asked curiously: "Is there a problem, Mr. Lynn? What did Fawkes say?"
Lynn took a deep breath and asked tentatively: "Um... Professor, are you sure you want to hear... the original words?"
"Of course."
Dumbledore leaned forward with great interest, as if expecting an interesting story. "I'm very curious to know Fawkes' unique insights on my afternoon tea."
"Professor, you're the one who insisted on hearing it..." Lynn confirmed once more.
The confusion on Dumbledore's face deepened, and he nodded, signaling Lynn to go ahead.
So, Lynn steeled himself, closed his eyes, and began his "translation" work in a flat tone, as if reciting a textbook:
"Old man! If you don't stop torturing me with that ridiculously sweet drink that's comparable to poison, I'll... in your robes... troll snot... in your mouth... sh... you gr... bi...!"
Lynn rushed through the last few words unclearly, but combined with the context, the meaning was already self-evident.
Having finished the translation, Lynn immediately stood up and retreated toward the door at light speed.
"Thank you, Headmaster, for approving my vegetable garden! Goodbye, Professor! Goodbye, Fawkes!"
Before his voice had even faded, he had already disappeared at the end of the spiral staircase, moving so fast he left only a gust of wind behind.
[Ding! Mission complete! Reward 'Mysterious Pet Egg' has been issued to the system space!]
In the office, only a man and a bird were left in dead silence.
Dumbledore was still holding the small spoon, frozen in mid-air, his expression somewhere between shock, amusement, and a hint of guilt.
He slowly turned his head to look at Fawkes on the perch.
Fawkes raised its head proudly and let out a clear, melodious cry.
Dumbledore looked at his cup of drink, described as "comparable to poison," and then at the obviously smug Fawkes.
Finally, he shook his head helplessly, let out a laugh, and sent the spoonful of sweet tea into his own mouth...
Carrying the freshly obtained approval and an unknown pet egg still lying in the system space, Lynn walked toward the outside of the Castle in a pleasant mood.
Next, he had to find the Keeper of Keys and Grounds—Rubeus Hagrid. After all, he was going to break ground next to someone else's "territory," so saying hello was necessary.
Yes, very polite.
Crossing the gradually yellowing lawn, he could see the small wooden hut situated on the edge of the Forbidden Forest from afar.
Wisps of smoke were rising from the chimney, carrying a scent of firewood and... something slightly burnt.
Beside the wooden hut was a small yard enclosed by a rough fence. A few crossbows and umbrellas that looked like they could be used as battering rams were leaning casually against the wall.
Just as Lynn approached the fence, he heard a loud and slightly deep voice coming from the wooden hut, as if someone were chatting.
He also noticed under a tree not far away, a serious-looking cat-like creature was licking its paws, its sharp gaze scrutinizing the uninvited guest.
The [Affinity] ability worked silently; these small animals did not show any hostility, only pure curiosity.
He took a deep breath and raised his hand to knock on the thick wooden door.
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