Chapitre 88: Chapter 88
Of course, the miracles of blood willingly given are not something even Dumbledore knew about, save that it was said to have immense powers that were the ultimate expression of purity and the light.
But the issue here was not the blood, but who. It wasn't a leap of faith to assume that they had a plan to obtain the philosophers stone, because only such a thing could provide true immortality, a way of staving off the breakdown, perhaps forever. And the reason for that was simple. Alchemy, the art that spawned the innocent looking rock was an entirely different form of magic, one that did not obey the rules of "wizarding" magic, the rules of which unicorns came under. If they succeeded, it would be like having a person who could not swim on the sinking ship getting saved by the broom. If it stopped working, he would still fall into sea and drown, but until then, he was safe. And that was to say nothing of the dark arts that could undo even that damage, at cost.
Of course, following that train of thought, there were few people who could possibly aware of the fact that the elixir of life could theoretically stave off the effects of a unicorn blood curse. Voldemort was unfortunately one of them, having long ago stolen enough alchemy books in his quest for immortality to notice that fact. And considering that Voldemort was a spirit and would not be affected by a unicorn blood curse, it was pretty much all but confirmed that Voldemort had an ally or servant who was hosting the currently pathetic dark lord. Quirrel unfortunately seemed to be the likely suspect. And there was very little that would actually exonerate the man if you considered Dumbledore's intellect and knowledge. But the headmaster could not act against him either. The man had yet to commit an actual and obvious crime. And serving dark lords thought long dead or killing unicorns without leaving any implicating evidence was not considered a valid reason to terminate the DADA teacher. So as unfortunate as it seemed, the only strategy Dumbledore could follow was let the man fail to get the stone and die in his attempt. With the way the magical world was currently, Dumbledore could not afford to be softhearted in his own backyard, not when a headache was imminent at every juncture. Supreme Mugwump...it was a most bothersome responsibility.
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Harry put down his new books with a great deal of satisfaction.
Naruto...
Had it been so long since he had been cowering inside a tiny cupboard, reading in the dead of the night, all the while trying his utmost not to make the paper crinkle? And here he was now, learning the skills of his parents while hiding his own in plain sight. A journey beyond mere words and he was still on it.
The latest additions to his Naruto information were not unwelcome. Honestly, after seeing a slice of the real world, he no longer overly sympathized with one person or the other. He was far more interested in the skills and the jutsu used, and also the tactics used in a war that seemed to be all in the head of...someone. At the moment, the one set of techniques he wanted to emulate was space time ninjutsu. Harry was not stupid. The first few hundred chapters had nothing on the deluge of info that a great shinobi war against the masked guy covered. Between the techniques of the dead, and the not dead, he had no doubt that his next two hundred years could easily be filled with research and training. But he also knew that he was far more advanced than an eleven year old ninja had any right to be. Kakashi, Itachi, Minato, the list of child prodigies was enormous. None of them had the arsenal and power that he could claim at eleven. Even a book could tell him that. Simply his shadow clone and genjutsu usage made him, if nothing else, a very annoying foe. And he also had ninjitsu and fuuinjutsu to back him up.
Of course, the problem was, just when you figured out how good you have it, something happens to disturb that nice state of bliss. He just had to figure out where it was going to go wrong and hopefully ride it out without dying too soon.
Where did this sudden acknowledgment of mortality come from you ask? Ironically, it probably had something to do with the fact that somebody finally established numbers for the whole Naruto universe. The allied shinobi army was 80,000 strong. The enemy had 100,000 Zetsu clones and a plethora of dead and live A to S class ninja. And so he got thinking.
Everyone dies. Peace is a prelude to war. If you have skill, somebody is going to wind up testing it.
And also, what were the numbers for the wizarding world, an armed society if ever there was one? How many S class combatants lurked around here, like Voldemort or Dumbledore? Who else in this often twisted realm possessed such power, quite literally in the palm of their hand? It made you wonder.
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État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone