Chapter 427: Recklessness and Bravery

John slowly withdrew his hand, his face as pale as paper, fine cold sweat beading on his forehead.

The pain of severing a finger.

Compared to tearing the soul and sacrificing the source of life, it seemed insignificant.

He staggered, and Dumbledore caught him in time.

Nicolas Flamel stepped forward to staunch the bleeding and treat John's wound.

He then conjured a golden prosthetic limb and attached it to John's severed finger.

Amazing.

As expected of a legendary alchemy master, this prosthetic is indistinguishable from flesh.

Apart from being detachable, there is hardly any difference to be seen.

"Well, this ritual seems relatively successful."

"I will monitor the embryo's growth over the next period; if anything happens, I will immediately safeguard Yueer's soul and return it to the artificial human body."

Nicolas Flamel looked at the glowing cocoon, his tone hinting at fatigue but mostly excitement.

Creating life—even for Nicolas Flamel—was a first.

"Thank you, Grandpa Nicolas." John's voice was weak yet sincere, "I will keep this kindness in my heart."

"No need for thanks." Nicolas Flamel waved his hand.

"I said it—I agreed to help only out of curiosity."

"This is also a rare experimental opportunity for me."

John chuckled, then turned his gaze to Dumbledore.

"Headmaster, thank you as well for everything you've done for us."

Dumbledore lightly patted John's shoulder, his eyes holding a gentle smile.

"You are all my students; how could I stand by and do nothing?"

After confirming several times that the cocoon's condition was stable, John finally put his mind at ease.

Then came an overwhelming wave of fatigue.

He fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

Nicolas Flamel placed him in a quiet guest room to rest properly.

Dumbledore then went to John's home, informing his family and Hermione of the current situation.

John had already discussed this ritual with them beforehand.

So they were not surprised, just inevitably worried.

Upon learning that Yueer had been born successfully, they also breathed a sigh of relief.

Dumbledore even made a rare joke.

"Madam, your family is about to welcome a little baby."

"I hope you haven't forgotten how to care for a newborn."

Hearing Dumbledore's teasing, John's mother couldn't help but laugh, though her eyes rimmed slightly red.

"Back then I was worn out by John's mischief; I hope Yueer won't be as troublesome as her brother."

Dumbledore recalled Yueer's Magic Orb attribute from last year at Hogwarts, feeling a bit embarrassed.

"That's hard to say..."

Mr. Merick then started scratching his ear and cheek.

"Sigh, I really forgot how to take care of a baby..."

Mrs. Merick beside him gave him an annoyed glance.

"That's because back then you hardly helped with the baby; I was the one doing all the work."

"Um... really?"

Hermione, listening nearby, couldn't help but laugh.

Then she looked at Dumbledore and asked, "Professor, when will John roughly wake up?"

"Hmm, probably in these couple of days, but he won't return that quickly."

"He has expended too much life essence; although it won't harm his foundation, he still needs proper rest for a period."

"Only with Nicolas can he receive the best care."

Hermione nodded in understanding.

John had told her this before they set out, so she wasn't surprised.

"Then, Professor, could you trouble yourself to deliver this letter to him?"

"Of course."

Upon receiving the letter from Hermione, Dumbledore gladly took it and slipped it into the inner pocket of his robe.

The young couple had only just gotten engaged before being separated, surely missing each other dearly.

How wonderful youth is.

"Mm..."

When John awoke, it was already the third day.

"!!"

As soon as he stirred, the Guardian Tree Pot on his body was startled, hopping and jumping to the window.

John rubbed his sleepy eyes and looked around.

An unfamiliar ceiling, warm sunlight streaming through the curtains, the air filled with a faint herbal scent.

Several Guardian Tree Pots hid behind the curtains, peeking at him.

They were slender and elongated like stick insects.

Outside the window, a sniffer was perched, using its paws to scrape the glass, curiously peeking inside, as if sizing up any shiny thing it could pilfer.

John froze for a moment, then reacted.

This is Nicolas Flamel's residence.

Just as he got out of bed, he stepped on a soft, fluffy clump with one foot.

Looking down, he saw a plush curled up on the carpet, letting out a dissatisfied grunt before rolling over and continuing to sleep.

"Uh... sorry..."

John carefully moved his foot away, then got up and walked toward the door.

There was no sign of Grandpa Nicolas in the room, so he first went into the inner chamber.

The light cocoon containing Albus's embryo still floated there, while the magic formation beneath continuously supplied energy.

This simulated the womb's environment, allowing Albus's embryo to steadily absorb energy and grow slowly.

John stood before the light cocoon, silently gazing at it for a while.

He could feel a faint yet steady pulse of life within, like a beating heart.

He also sensed a tenuous connection to it.

That was because a part of his own origin resided within it.

Seeing that Albus's condition was stable, he turned and left the room.

In the garden outside, Grandpa Nicolas sat in a rattan chair basking in the sun, holding a yellowed ancient book, with a steaming cup of red tea on the small round table beside him.

Several tree-guarding creatures surrounded his feet, some lounging on his slippers, some climbing the chair legs, like a group of curious little sprites.

As John approached, Nicolas looked up, smiled, and closed his book: "Awake? How do you feel?"

"Much better, thank you, Grandpa Nicolas." John stretched his shoulders and said with a smile.

"Good."

"Drink this; it will help your recovery," Nicolas said, handing John a vial of potion.

John didn't hesitate, took the potion and drank it in one gulp.

His body felt warm.

"Sit down, child," Nicolas said, pointing to the nearby rattan chair, and John sat down.

"I've heard little Albus mention you several times before; we'd only been in touch via word of mouth, but this is the first time we've sat down to talk."

Grandpa Nicolas bore none of the pomp of the legendary great alchemist; instead he seemed like a kind neighborly old man, his tone gentle and casual.

John found himself relaxing a little and spoke with a smile.

"I too have long wanted to thank you in person, Grandpa Nicolas. You've helped me so much, even the Magic Stone within me was your gift."

Nicolas Flamel waved his hand, his tone light.

"Eh, I still have several of those stones."

"On the contrary, you—though you have only one life—have repeatedly put yourself in danger to save others; this courage and kindness of yours are far more precious than any Magic Stone."

John scratched his head, smiling somewhat embarrassedly.

"The Sorting Hat used to say I was reckless, not brave, and then tossed me into Ravenclaw."

"Others have said I'm a meddler who plays the hero."

Nicolas Flamel blinked at the words, then couldn't help bursting into laughter.

It wasn't a hearty, boisterous laugh.

But rather a series of low chuckles.

His laughter was disjointed, each 'ha' punctuated by a noticeable pause, as if something had tickled him so much he could barely catch his breath.

His small frame shook with each chuckle, as if laughing too hard might cause him to fall apart.

"I've already said this about little Albus."

"The Sorting Hat can indeed judge a person's traits, but people are complex; they grow and transform."

"Sorting the children into four houses, each with its own 'label,' certainly makes management easier, but it also makes it easy for people to be confined by those labels."

"It's like placing a seed in a fixed flowerpot; no matter how lovely the pot, it restricts the direction in which the roots can grow."

Nicolas Flamel lifted his red tea, took a sip, and gazed toward the garden, his eyes growing distant.

"Your courage and kindness are beyond doubt."

"All along this journey, you have already proven yourself."

"Recklessness is the impulsive drive of youth, unaware of consequences; courage, however, is choosing to move forward despite knowing the risks."

"But whether it be recklessness, courage, or playing the hero,"

"they are merely the world's most genuine response, wrapped up in your pure goodwill."