CHAPTER 41

"What? He said that Fleur's intuition is accurate—doesn't that mean he's truly found a way to develop a wand set?" a French Ministry of Magic official exclaimed, eyes wide with disbelief, as if he had seen a ghost.

The other officials shared similar expressions of shock. They had skimmed through the proposed wand set project. While Ollivander and Horace might find capable replacements for their respective roles, the core—alchemy—could only be accomplished by a true Master!

This was precisely why the French Ministry of Magic had taken such a keen interest in the wager once word got out. They were convinced that neither the British Ministry of Magic nor Hogwarts possessed a true alchemical master.

They even entertained the idea of using the wand set development as leverage to pressure the British Ministry.

But now, Moriarty stood before them, boldly claiming victory in the wager!

What did that imply?

Feng Wei Capet nearly dashed to Dumbledore in a frenzy, desperately wanting to ask, "Did you know there's a twelve-year-old alchemist at Hogwarts?!"

The officials from the French Ministry looked to their ministers, wide-eyed. They had come to Hogwarts excited, intending to rally behind Nicolas Flamel, and had even brought along Beauxbatons' Headmistress and students.

Of course, they would never admit they were hoping to witness British embarrassment.

Yet Moriarty's declaration struck them like a thunderclap, leaving them dazed and disoriented.

Surrounded by the gaze of the French delegation, Feng Wei clutched his head in a budding migraine. He recalled the deadly spell Moriarty cast at the French subway station and how casually he made unrealistic claims in front of girls to appear impressive.

Everyone thought that way—yet unlike the French, the British wizards radiated joy. Dumbledore approached Moriarty with a gleam in his eyes.

"Forgive me for interrupting your conversation," Dumbledore said, eyes twinkling as he looked between Moriarty, Fleur, and Lilith. Then he turned serious. "Moriarty, would you kindly repeat your statement aloud? Are you certain of your victory?"

"I am," Moriarty answered with a composed nod. Turning to address everyone, he declared, "To be precise, within 24 hours, the finalized report on the wand set will appear on the front page of the Daily Prophet!"

"Brilliant! Superb!" the English wizards roared with pride. "Marvelous!" "Outstanding!" They cheered and clapped, many pumping their fists in celebration.

On the French side, the mood had soured into a silent gloom. One young Auror gave a sharp, dismissive snort and looked as though he were about to say something—but when he met Moriarty's calm gaze, he wisely held his tongue.

Moriarty stood at the center of the room, utterly composed—eerily so.

Dumbledore noticed it too. He had once seen a similar serenity in Nicolas Flamel, though Flamel's came from centuries of wisdom and a calm indifference to life and death.

But the calm in Moriarty's eyes unsettled Dumbledore. It was as if Moriarty no longer saw people as people—but instead as a series of cold, logical variables.

"All right then, my fellow wizards," Moriarty said, and his voice commanded the hall into silence. "Believe it or not, all I require is an unused classroom where I will not be disturbed for 24 hours. And—Mr. Ollivander, Mr. Horace—I'll need all the compiled data and materials."

"Of course," Dumbledore agreed promptly. He gave several swift instructions to the staff, and Moriarty departed for the designated room—the Transfiguration classroom he had used in his first year.

Feng Wei quickly gathered the French delegation. They needed to inform Nicolas Flamel of this shocking development without delay.

With the adults hastily exiting the Great Hall, only the students of Hogwarts and Beauxbatons remained.

The young witches looked around, confused. Dumbledore and Madame Maxime had left so abruptly that no one had arranged accommodations for them.

Fleur, with effortless grace, approached Jericho. "Hey, cowboy, would you mind giving us a tour of Hogwarts? I've never seen the English sky at six in the evening."

"I'd love to," Jericho replied dryly, hiding his irritation. "After I get a good night's sleep and you turn down that doll-like charm of yours."

Fleur didn't mind his brush-off in the slightest. She smiled sweetly, triggering more whispers from nearby students. She was about to speak again when Lilith stepped forward.

"If you're still lively, I wouldn't mind giving you a tour myself," Lilith offered coolly, glancing over at the Beauxbatons girls. Her eyes lingered on Fleur.

She'd noticed that Fleur had approached Moriarty first in front of everyone—and that kind of boldness was rare.

Lively, confident, beautiful, poised, intelligent… Fleur seemed to have it all.

Lilith silently acknowledged her as a rival.

But when Jericho revealed Fleur's Veela heritage, Lilith immediately felt relieved. The most ancient and noble Slytherin families would never accept a mermaid—or a part-Veela—as a spouse.

Still!

It wouldn't hurt to put this dazzling little Veela in her place. Lilith mentally planned to take Fleur—and her puppet-like charm—straight to Tonks and Gemma. Hehehe…

Lilith's smile widened ever so slightly as she led Fleur and her companions out of the Great Hall to explore Hogwarts.

Jericho, uninterested, watched the girls pass him by. Still yawning, he headed straight back to the dormitory for a nap.

As for the rest of the Hogwarts students—they began spreading the news like wildfire. Soon enough, crowds of curious students were gathering outside the Transfiguration classroom on the first floor.

Inside, Moriarty sat amidst stacks of materials compiled by Ollivander—records representing nearly 70% of all known wands in the British wizarding world.

He mentally absorbed the knowledge in rapid succession. Among the various wood types, he selected a magical vine that best suited the wand set's structure.

This vine originated from Greece and was brought to England by Muggle sailors roughly 700 years ago. Today, it thrived abundantly across Ireland.

Moriarty crafted the vine into a cylindrical sheath and reinforced it with mithril to ensure the wand would remain firmly encased within.

Next, he reviewed the list of materials compiled by Horace and Professor St.

In this project, alchemy provided the core technology, while magic served as the energy source.

Despite the thorough vetting by the two potion masters, 14,036 materials remained as potential candidates for magical conduction.

Boxes upon boxes of these substances now occupied the classroom floor.

For any typical wizard, selecting the optimal conduit from such a vast pool would be a daunting task—an undertaking that might take a team of apprentices weeks to complete.

But Moriarty had no need for trial and error.

He caused over ten thousand materials to float in mid-air, and simultaneously injected equal amounts of magic into one thousand of them at a time.

Then he conjured a reclining chair, leaned back, and closed his eyes—activating his matrix to monitor each material's reaction to the magic infusion.

He repeated the process twenty times, logging every reaction into his matrix, which calculated variables like volume, mass, magical affinity, and stability across age ranges.

Ultimately, the matrix highlighted the optimal material: an azure crystal.

Azure crystal boasted high magical tolerance, was lightweight, and had exceptional compatibility with various spells.

Moriarty compressed the azure crystal and embedded it into the vine sheath to serve as a magical conduit. He also formed a dense droplet of crystal at the wand's base to function as a kinetic energy reservoir.

This technique utilized transmutation and elemental water magic—a process uniquely developed by Moriarty.

The resulting wand set was about the thickness of a thumb and the length of a forearm.

Next came the most critical phase: imbuing magical properties.

For over an hour, Moriarty cast enchantments: Permanent Stabilization, Memory Charm, Water-Repellent, Fire-Resistance, Flexibility, Shock Absorption, Featherweight—and more.

Finally, he penned hundreds of magical runes onto parchment—symbols like "Link," "Auto-Bind," "Sync," "Barrier Reduction," and "Magic Activation."

To Moriarty, these weren't formulas or theories anymore. They were elemental components—variables to be entered into the matrix.

Backed by his spiritual and magical power, the matrix autonomously calculated the optimal interaction between Element A and B, continuing through higher-order combinations until a stable magical circuit emerged.

This sophisticated cycle became the wand set's greatest advantage: rapid deployment.

Thus, the first wand set was completed.

Unfortunately, Moriarty could not test it right away. The matrix had drained nearly all of his mental and magical reserves.

With a blank mind and sluggish thoughts, he couldn't even draw power from others.

After two hours of silent rest in his recliner, Moriarty finally stirred. With clarity returning to his eyes, he reached out and took hold of the wand set.

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