Self-cultivation of the traveler of the world

"...That was the second time I rejected him. I have never seen him again since then, and the position he applied for as a professor of the Black Magic Defense class began to occur unexpectedly since then...

I guess he had already made plans at that time. If he could not become a professor of Black Magic Defense, then the course would be completely stopped.

In the past two years, I was acting as an agent for this course. It was not until this year that I finally found a capable professor and took over the teaching job..."

"Voldemort?"

At Nicolomai's home, Dumbledore sat opposite Nicolomai, and a pot of hot black tea was placed on the table in front of him. The teapot swayed from time to time, ready to add tea to the two of them at any time.

"Yes, Tom Riddle calls himself Voldemort..."

Dumbledore said, looking up at Nicolamee with a frown with sparse brows, and warned in a deep voice:

"Lame, I must remind you that Tom has a very profound study of the black magic, and he has imposed a sensation spell on his name!

It’s okay to be within the protection scope of the Curse of the Red Desperate. If the Curse is protected, once you say the name Voldemort or Tom Riddle, you can sense it no matter where he is!"

"Ah...is it!"

Hearing Dumbledore's words, Nicolamee was shocked and stroked his front heart with lingering fear, his heart beating violently.

To be honest, in terms of magical abilities, Nicolomai, who has lived for more than 600 years, is definitely no worse than those of Dumbledore and Grindelwald!

But if we have to compare the combat effectiveness, Nicolemay is likely to be unable to beat Hogwarts graduates!

There is no way, you can't count on an elderly scientist to compete with a street gangster to kill people, right?

I am over 600 years old, and it is hard to practice a lightning five-in-one whip. I can't just shout at Voldemort like Master Ma, "No martial ethics" and "mouse tail juice" at Voldemort...

"...Don't worry, with the mantra of loyalty, safety can be guaranteed when staying at home..."

Looking at Nicolamee, who caressed his chest but accidentally broke his ribs and little fingers, Dumbledore twitched and quickly began to comfort him.

He was afraid that if he said a few words later, Nicolamee would scare himself to death...

France...ah...it's hard to describe...

After staying for a long time, Nicolame finally came to his senses, realized his injuries, and had no intention of making a fuss. He waved his hand gently and summoned the medicine box to store the potion for treating bone injuries.

He was already familiar with such injuries and could not be familiar with them anymore. This potion called Bone Spirit was invented specifically for his own symptoms of bone suffocation.

He poured the potion and felt the feeling of the bones growing in his body. He put the crystal bottle containing the potion aside, looked at Dumbledore as if nothing had happened, and started asking.

"Then... Albus, is there anything I can help you..."

Looking at Nicolamey's skillful process, Dumbledore couldn't help but sigh in his heart, then curled his divergent emotions and nodded and said:

"Indeed, I came here for some things this time..."

Dumbledore said, taking out a golden crown from his arms, putting it on the table in front of them, and continuing:

"...I don't know, have you ever heard of Horcruxes..."

"Horcrux?"

"Yes, Horcrux, found in Hogwarts, I want to know who was put in Hogwarts..."

Hearing Dumbledore's words, Nicolomai's expression suddenly became serious, he reached out to hold the table, and stood up with difficulty.

"Horcrux...you wait...I'll get something..."

"Hmm? What, do you need my service?"

"You're welcome, just sit down, just a book, just go and come!"

Nicolame waved his hand gently, took small steps, and moved to his long-lost alchemy room little by little.

To be honest, Nicolame has not conducted alchemy research experiments for a long time. The harshness of his physical condition is no longer allowed to continue to study!

Now he is more about sorting out his academic thoughts. He wants to leave a magical alchemy manual for future generations to learn before he gets tired of living!

He has been sorting out his past cases and ideas over the years. If it weren't for Dumbledore's arrival, he wouldn't know when he would have opened the door to his alchemy room again...

‘Hulala...’

Pushing open the long-closed door, what caught my eye was the spotless environment in the alchemy room. Every inch of the tabletop and floor here was carefully wiped by Pefrell himself...

‘Dingling~Dangling~’

There were all kinds of strange instruments on the table, as if they were sensing the arrival of the owner, and they made a crisp sound.

Mercury, mitral, silver, gold, sand, crystal...

Various pure elements are neatly placed on a shelf that can open and close automatically. Next to the shelf is a series of alchemy products he made himself.

A crystal ball that can navigate and find people, a spectator that can detect dangers, a pure metal texture, a magic wand without a heart of the staff, and even an automatic rifle that uses magic as the source of firepower...

There are all kinds and a variety. If any item in the room is spread, it will be a treasure that has been stolen by the wizarding world, but it is piled up on the side like toys...

Niccolme didn't even look at these things, and slowly moved to the shelf, took off a monocular eyepiece, hung it around her neck, and carried a thick magic book.

This book is only about fifteen kilograms, but for Nicolamee today, it is definitely a big burden. His hands were stretched out by the pendant, and his face turned red by the weight of the book. He took a step and took a break and moved out with difficulty...

"I'll do it..."

Dumbledore, who was worried about Nicolomai, followed him. Seeing this scene, he took a few steps forward and gently took over the magic book in Lemai's hand. It was just fifteen kilograms, which was really nothing to Dumbledore.

"...Well...I can't even move this book..."

Looking at Dumbledore's steady steps, Nicolamee couldn't help but shook his head and sighed, and moved his somewhat stiff hands slightly, dragging his feet on the ground, slowly following him.

When I came to the living room, I took out a silver glove from my pocket and put it carefully on my hand to avoid hurting my fingers.

"Horcrux...?"

Open the magic book and find a chapter called Blockade of Evil Thoughts, spread it on the table, and put the golden crown brought by Dumbledore in the center of the magic text depicted in the book.

He put on a monocular eye, took out his wand, and gently tapped the page of the book.

The pages of this book are not ordinary Arabic numerals, but a symbol similar to cuneiform. As the Nicolamee wand hits, a dazzling light suddenly bursts out.

The light penetrated the constraints of the pages like a sharp sword. The pages carved with magical texts seemed to be torn apart by the light, and irregular gaps broke out.

Next to the book, Dumbledore was holding an old magic wand in his hand and staring at the scene in front of him with caution. Nicolmey also looked solemn, holding the magic wand in his hand, drawing a sharp trick in the light.

"I command you to reveal the secrets you do not want to reveal in the name of Abraham of the Jewish people!"

"Ao~~~~~"

A shrill wail sounded, and materials like black vines were squeezed out of the golden crown by light.

The vine stretched and climbed, trying to escape from this place that had caused him much torture, but was firmly limited to the scope of the pages. He bumped left and right, but he could not escape...

"...This is..."

In the monocular, Nicolame looked at the figure emitting an evil aura in shock and murmured.

"...Voldemort"

"What...how could it be Tom?"