"Many witches and wizards have died on the path of seeking new magic. Young wizard, you don't want to leave this world before your parents, do you?"
Ollivander fixed his burning gaze on Dylan.
Dylan blinked.
In truth, he felt that if he really did start researching new spells, it might not be as dangerous as Ollivander said.
That confidence came from his max-level understanding of the three Unforgivable Curses.
As highly offensive spells, the Unforgivable Curses contained an enormous amount of knowledge and structure. If he could fully control spells as dangerous as these, how many others could possibly be more deadly than them?
Maybe a few—but definitely not many.
"I understand, sir. Thank you for the warning." Dylan nodded.
Even though he believed that studying new spells might not be quite as lethal as Ollivander implied, he had no intention of continuing before he had learned a complete magical system.
Because while Ollivander was talking, one phrase had caught his attention—magic has its own will.
And magic that was not under control would inevitably tilt toward chaos.
If he did not have the power to suppress and command that magic—
Prying and demanding too much might very well create an Obscurus.
"Those things aren't even afraid of the three Unforgivable Curses. I'd better play it safe."
Once Ollivander had Dylan's promise, he finally went back to searching for a suitable wand.
"You really are… hm, let me think… very brave. Yes, you truly are a very courageous young wizard."
He pulled three wand boxes from the rack, then went into the back and brought out seven more, lining them up on the counter.
"So, I might have figured out what kind of wand will suit you."
"Let's try these three first." Ollivander pointed to the boxes on the far right.
Dylan tried them one by one.
At the same time, Ollivander could not help saying, "Young wizard, do you know why I keep having you test different wands?"
"It should be so I can find one that suits me, that resonates with me, that can help stabilize the magic inside me, right?"
Dylan drew out a finely patterned wand and gave it a small flick. A faint popping sound echoed from a tiny explosion.
"Oh, very well said!"
Ollivander's eyes lit up. He gently closed the three boxes on the right.
"Try these over here."
"Everything you said is correct—compatibility is very important. But the true purpose of a wand is that it can greatly limit how much chaotic magic you can unleash."
As he spoke, Dylan tried two more wands, but Ollivander was still not satisfied.
"Please go on, sir."
"Young wizards, when they're unfamiliar with spells, always pour out their magic with no restraint at all."
Ollivander handed Dylan another wand. His tone grew complicated, his eyes drifting up toward the ceiling.
"If that wild, unfocused magic isn't guided in the right direction—through a proper spell—and you just keep doing what you were doing earlier, it can very easily lead to truly terrible consequences… No, this one still isn't right for you."
He passed over a fourth wand.
"So the key is this: before young wizards understand incantations, the wand can keep their magic from spewing out recklessly."
"I see." Dylan nodded and gave the wand a wave, only to trigger another chain of explosions.
Why did he feel like some kind of demolition prodigy…
"It's all right. There are still plenty of wands." Ollivander smiled and offered him yet another.
The moment Dylan took it—
His spirit stirred.
He could feel the magic flowing through his body grow livelier at the touch of this wand.
Almost without resistance, his magic poured into it.
After absorbing the magic, the tip of the wand suddenly spat out a mass of deep, abyssal black light.
The black radiance, like tendrils reaching up from the depths of hell, circled Dylan twice.
It scared him half to death.
For a second, he thought he had accidentally cast one of the Unforgivable Curses.
But the dark light dissipated quickly and did not last.
Seeing this, Ollivander raised his brows and flashed his teeth. "Hahaha. Thirteen and a quarter inches, yew, with a Thestral tail hair core… It seems that death and great power will walk at your side, young wizard."
"My guess was right. You really are the type with astonishing talent who could all too easily step onto the wrong path and walk it to the end."
"…"
Seriously? Saying that to a kid right to his face—did he think that was polite?
Dylan almost rolled his eyes.
But he held back.
"This is all the fault of those damned Unforgivable Curses! Just because I can use them doesn't mean I'm some extremist lunatic."
He had clearly only wanted to buy some stocks and spend his life lying flat after coming to this world!
"These days, Thestral tail hair is hard to come by. This one's from my younger days, and these as well."
Ollivander handed Dylan another wand.
"Back then, there were all sorts of strange rumors around me. That legendary wand gave me the inspiration to make these."
"It's just that after all these years, none of them have ever found a true master."
He sighed softly.
Dylan blinked.
A legendary wand?
The Elder Wand?
A glint flashed in his eyes as he asked casually, "Thestrals? Are they a kind of magical creature?"
"These wands aren't all made with tail hairs from the same Thestral, are they? Good grief, did you pluck one poor Thestral bald, sir?"
"Oh, hahaha! No, no."
Ollivander laughed, shaking his head.
"In fact, when I was young, I very much wanted to recreate the might of that legendary wand. So each of these has a core taken from the strongest tail hair of a Thestral at the very instant I killed it."
He added, "Of course, casual killing is forbidden nowadays. You mustn't follow my example, young wizard."
Dylan knew that, in the eyes of almost every wizard, magical creatures were nothing more than convenient raw materials for spellcraft.
It was only after they were excessively hunted that the wizarding world was forced to adopt "sustainable development."
Wizards who cared for magical creatures the way Hagrid did were rare.
Realizing that the wands he was trying were all imitations inspired by the Elder Wand gave Dylan a bit of a headache.
It was fortunate that none of them had done anything too strange.
Nothing freakish had erupted in his hands.
And they were not all made from the same Thestral tail hair.
Otherwise, he really would have had to start thinking about how to buy up every last one of them.