"You don't know English?" Robert said in surprise. "I thought you were just lazy and didn't bother responding to others, but it turns out you couldn't understand them?"
"Of course not," the white tiger licked its paw. "I can understand what you're saying, but I can't read the text. Actually, one of the reasons I followed you is to learn English."
Just as Robert was about to ask something, the white tiger continued, "As for my ultimate purpose in following you, I can't tell you that now, but..." It paused, sounding somewhat helpless, "Hasn't the UK opened any spirit realms in all these years? Why are your magical plants like this?"
It pointed at Robert's book, One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi. "Even though I can't read it, if I understand what you're saying, these are just ordinary plants!"
You must have some misunderstanding about ordinary plants!
Seeing his disbelief, the white tiger explained, "You know, in recent years, Flower Country has opened many spirit realms. As a result, the spiritual energy there is extremely abundant. The direct consequence is that plants grow wildly, and the potency of ordinary herbs has increased to levels only magical herbs could achieve before. They've even become aggressive. So, what you call Devil's Snare would probably just be... raw material for making hunting traps in Flower Country."
It licked its paw again, "Ordinary people can handle it without any threat."
"That impressive?" Robert was shocked. "Then how do they use magical plants in Flower Country?"
The white tiger thought for a moment and replied objectively, "Plants under 50 years old are protected, those under a thousand years old are used for medicine, and those over a thousand years old are basically everywhere. If they want to take on a human form, they need to register with the Mystic Association. Those who don't want to transform can find a place to settle down, and as long as they don't harm anyone, no one will bother them."
Robert was on the verge of tears. In the UK, many magical plants are usable after just one or two years. Meanwhile, the mystics in Flower Country don't even bother with plants under 50 years old.
"So, according to you, all plants can talk?" Robert said dejectedly. "But why isn't that written in the books?"
The white tiger looked puzzled. "That shouldn't be the case. British wizards should have a high level of expertise in life magic and animal transfiguration." It scratched its ear with its hind leg. "If you can't hear what magical plants are conveying, how do you achieve harmony with nature?"
Robert twitched his mouth, feeling speechless. "What are you talking about? We only have classes like Transfiguration, Charms, Potions, Herbology, Astronomy, History of Magic, and Defense Against the Dark Arts. What's life magic? As for animal transfiguration, that's advanced knowledge in Transfiguration, and we only cover it in detail in the sixth year."
"And that thing about harmony with nature..." Robert shrugged. "I've never heard of it."
The white tiger became even more withdrawn. After a long pause, it said, "What's going on? Hasn't your magical knowledge been passed down properly?"
"Well, this..." Robert hesitated. "It seems most magical knowledge is held by pure-blood families, so it's hard to say if certain knowledge has been passed down."
The white tiger jumped onto the soft cushion prepared for it by the bed, rolled over, and complained, "Why is there no sunlight here?"
"It's just a place to sleep, so isn't it better without sunlight?" Robert shrugged.
The white tiger sighed and continued, "I'm not talking about that kind of inheritance. The simple stuff that can be preserved outside, recorded on paper, is just basic knowledge."
"Uh... saying that would make a lot of wizards today feel pretty bad. Many of them only manage to pass when they graduate..." Robert was about to criticize such idiots but then remembered his father's transcript and instantly deflated.
Dear father, what on earth did you go through to achieve such "high" grades?
The white tiger's expression was complicated, but it waved its paw dismissively. "That's normal. Even in Flower Country, not many people master the basics thoroughly. Geniuses are rare, after all."
After a pause, it added, "The kind of inheritance I'm talking about only exists in spirit realms. You know, some advanced knowledge is either passed down orally or preserved through special means."
Robert nodded. He had heard Chen Xiang mention this before.
Moreover, rumors about grimoires possibly existing in the UK's spirit realms had already spread.
"Although I don't know why, the fact that your wizards are trying to forcibly close the spirit realms has a major drawback," the white tiger licked its paw. "It could lead to the UK's spirit realms not lasting long."
Robert was stunned and asked, "Can Flower Country's spirit realms stay open indefinitely?"
"What nonsense are you saying..." The white tiger gave him a look. "Did you forget where we met? That tree, the phoenix tree!"
Robert slapped his forehead in realization. "I was too surprised at the time, but now that I think about it, that was indeed a phoenix tree. But," he hesitated, "it was so big! And why were you living there? Shouldn't it have been a phoenix?"
"Phoenix, huh," the white tiger wagged its tail, avoiding the question about itself. "It hasn't shown up in a long time."
There really is a phoenix. Robert marveled at the thought.
"Probably if a large enough spirit realm opens, it might come out," the white tiger said matter-of-factly. "Of course, if a particularly large spirit realm appears in the UK, it might fly over here too."
"Wait a second, if phoenixes are real..." Robert suddenly thought of something and swallowed hard. "Does that mean things like the Eight-Headed Serpent, griffins, and sirens also exist?"
The white tiger gave him a strange look. "Isn't that obvious? I remember you mentioning something about a three-headed dog before."
"Uh, not a hellhound... just a regular three-headed dog," Robert explained. "Hagrid said he met a Greek man at the Hog's Head Inn who was short on cash and sold him a dog. It grew two more heads and became really fierce, but Hagrid seems to love it."
Then Robert became uncertain because... "I remember Fluffy... also falls asleep when it hears music, just like a hellhound?"
The white tiger stopped wagging its tail and scratched its ear. "Are you saying three-headed dogs aren't rare here?"
(End of Chapter)