"Incredible—"

After listening to Dumbledore's account, Amosta frowned and whispered.

The fact that the soul is able to act alone without the shelter of the physical body sounds like it is also a 'magical' thing in the magical world.

"You just said—"

Recalling Dumbledore's words, Amosta asked,

"Only once?"

"It's more than I can handle, Amosta--"

Dumbledore closed his eyes, remembering the horrors he had experienced many years ago on the day he had reached the summit. After a moment, he opened his eyes and looked at Amosta with a solemn expression,

"You can't simply describe that experience as fear, I must admit that the feeling is also wonderful, the soul is detached from the body, the feeling of freedom cannot be described in words, but it is for this reason that I warn you, when you do open that door one day, Amosta, do not indulge in that freedom, because your soul has no sustenance, and you cannot really get rid of the bondage of the body, you are likely to die because of the addiction to that 'freedom'."

Amosta's expression was cloudy, and Dumbledore's statement undoubtedly confirmed his previous speculation about the 'jellyfish world'.

"Thanks for the reminder, Headmaster Dumbledore, I'll take notice."

Amosta nodded solemnly.

"In the years since, I have indeed been able to leave my soul for a short time at any time, but I dare not do that, as I said, I am afraid of the temptation. That kind of 'freedom' seems to be really uninhibited, and nothing can restrain my 'freedom'. ”

Dumbledore said,

"Until later. I mean, as my body began to age noticeably and my mana began to regress, I found that I had lost that ability. ”

Dumbledore smiled frankly,

"Nothing can stand against the great time, everything will eventually lead to death, and of course, you are more intelligent than I am, Amosta, and will obviously understand that death is not something to fear, it is only the beginning of another great adventure."

Amosta bowed slightly, he knew that Dumbledore's words were warning him, but they were indeed insightful. Someone like him, who has 'died' once, knows better than anyone that death is never the end.

"IMHO—"

But after a moment of contemplation, Amosta squinted at Dumbledore, his rather sharp gaze piercing through Dumbledore's aging body to the core,

"I don't see any signs of your mana regression, Headmaster Dumbledore, if I were to judge, no wizard I've ever seen, including myself, has such powerful mana."

"Ah, yes, I think so myself—"

Dumbledore didn't show the slightest displeasure at being spied on, he just looked at Amosta with appreciative eyes, and said in a somewhat self-deprecating tone,

"But you see, Amosta, that having this magic doesn't mean that I can use it all right now, on the contrary, you can fully use the active magic that you have stored in your eyes."

Click!

There was like a thunderbolt in the void, and Dumbledore's words split the fog that existed in Amosta's heart like lightning, and his handsome features stretched out, and his brows raised high,

"I see," Amosta whispered.

"Exactly--"

Dumbledore smiled and said,

"A considerable part of the magic that exists in my body is no longer at my disposal, and it is intertwined with my flesh and blood. It does make me more energetic than the average older person, but I can't use them anymore. ”

"If--"

Thoughts flashed in Amosta's eyes, this was a rare opportunity, Dumbledore almost took the initiative to talk to him about this, in today's serious magic disconnection, now, Dumbledore, who can be regarded as the only forerunner, is willing to share himself, this kind of opportunity is unique.

"What if you were to force the use of the magic that was in a state of inertia?"

Amosta asked curiously.

"Oh, I'm afraid I'll have to write a will before I do that."

Dumbledore smiled,

"But as you might have guessed, Amosta, I can briefly appreciate the vitality of my youth before I leave this beautiful world."

Amosta pursed her lips, her breath sluggish.

Perhaps, the conversation between him and Vogel had fallen into Dumbledore's ears, but Amosta had already bothered to pay attention to the deterrence of Dumbledore's words, he only wanted to find out what he was curious about now,

"What about Voldemort, what do you think of his strength?"

"Obviously, Voldemort will never be able to get a glimpse of the scenery you are about to glimpse, there is no doubt about it, it takes a whole healthy soul to do so, and Voldemort has done so much damage to his own soul that it is hard to say how much sanity he can retain."

This means that it is very likely that Helmo developed magic such as a Horcrux after becoming a 'legend'. Helmo undoubtedly made Horcruxes, so Merlin couldn't completely destroy him, and chose to exile him, and his Horcruxes.

Amosta pondered, and Dumbledore said in a solemn tone,

"But I must admit that Voldemort's dark magic attainments are far beyond the imagination of ordinary people, and he will never be able to reach that state, but this does not mean that his evil transformation of his body is useless, he still has magic power that cannot be underestimated."

It's a cliché, Dumbledore has been trying to instill in himself the dangers of Voldemort.

There was a brief silence in the room, while Pastorey on the bed breathed slowly and slept soundly. For an old man who has lost everything, perhaps only when he loses his memory can he sleep well.

Amosta's gaze fell on the sleeping Muggle's face, and the question of how to place him was followed by a headache.

It would be inappropriate to keep him in St. Mungo, only to send him back to the Muggle world, as far as he knew, Old Git had no family left, so he would serve the orphanage for the rest of his life, but he certainly couldn't send Pastore back to the orphanage. Perhaps, it would be best to send him to a nursing home and give him a little mental cue not to try to find out the old Git's past, so that he can spend his old age in a foreign country in secret.

After taking a moment to think about the placement of Onisto Pastore, Amosta looked at Dumbledore, who was also silent, rarely, he saw a flickering gaze in Dumbledore's clear blue eyes, his thoughts raced, the corners of Amosta's mouth moved, and he whispered,

"I thought you'd ask about it."

For a moment, Dumbledore looked much older, and his beard under his crooked hooked nose had lost its silvery luster. After a few hard breaths, Dumbledore shook his head and said nothing.

"It's not a good place to live."

Amosta had no superfluous expression on his face, and simply narrated in a straight tone,

"It was cold, and the thin dressing gown he was wearing looked like he had been wearing for at least twenty years, and maybe he needed a pair of woolen socks even more, oh, his house was full of newspapers, and the Daily Prophet, which should have been every issue, and that was probably the only pastime besides looking at the scenery, and he had been reading the newspaper intently when I pulled Vogel's unfinished grandson out of his room."

Dumbledore's gaze fell on his weathered hands, and he was silent, but he listened carefully to every word of Amosta's brief description.

Amosta got up and walked to the shelf opposite the hospital bed, slowly opening the teapot to make himself tea, and giving Dumbledley a little more time to digest his emotions.

"What do you think?"

Dumbledore's voice was soft,

"Did he recognize his mistake?"

It's really not honest

Amosta shook his head in his heart,

"In my opinion, he's probably not completely calmed down yet, Headmaster Dumbledore"

Amosta's words brought some light back to Dumbledore's gloomy eyes.

(End of chapter)