After a brief moment of disbelief,
Robert's face lit up with joy.
Even he hadn't anticipated this.
A sudden flash of inspiration had caused an unexpected mutation in the Devil's Snare roots under the influence of Sectumsempra.
The result? Two Silver-tier rewards—one of which was close to Gold-tier.
A reward orb approaching Gold-tier would be nearly twice as effective as a standard Silver-tier orb.
It could dramatically shorten the transition from Gold to Platinum-tier.
If Robert cultivated Devil's Snare on a large scale, then by the time it matured,
his skill [Increased Chain Casts for Binding and Control Charms] might very well ascend directly to Platinum-tier.
There was even the faint possibility of achieving the Diamond glow!
In addition, the Silver-tier reward [Fire-Resistant Skin] could greatly enhance his defensive strength.
With both of these combined, the benefits of cultivating Devil's Snare had essentially multiplied fourfold.
Currently, no other plant Robert could grow in bulk came close.
Not the Guardian Tree, nor the Piranha Algae.
Robert took a calm breath, satisfaction glowing in his eyes.
But just then, he noticed a faint additional line in the Devil's Snare's reward information:
[Dark Arts Enhancement (Bronze-tier)]
However, the text flickered faintly, wavering between illusion and reality.
It had seemingly formed with great difficulty.
Had Robert not looked closely, he might have missed it entirely.
A soft sound escaped his lips as a peculiar expression appeared on his face.
"There's a third reward—Dark Arts Enhancement?"
"Is it because Devil's Snare is inherently aggressive, and mutated under the effects of Sectumsempra?"
"Is that why this new reward appeared?"
Moments later, Robert clenched his fist in excitement.
Whatever the cause, the Dark Arts Enhancement was undeniably useful.
Even if he didn't practice other Dark spells, Sectumsempra could still benefit from it.
If he stacked this reward to a higher tier and combined it with his existing cutting-charm boosts,
the resulting power might surpass even Snape, its original creator.
The only downside was that this reward had emerged under strenuous conditions.
It barely reached Bronze-tier and would be difficult to upgrade.
Still, the transformation in Devil's Snare left only one thought in Robert's mind:
"This is a massive gain!"
Immediately, Robert shifted his focus to the many untouched nodes on the Devil's Snare roots.
His eyes shimmered with expectation.
With determination, he raised his wand once more.
"Sectumsempra!"
Another Sectumsempra sliced open a root, revealing a glowing magic node.
A magical barrier formed over the incision—just like before.
But this time, something was different.
The root didn't attack the barrier in a wild rush.
Instead, it slowly accumulated magical energy.
Robert blinked in surprise.
"Devil's Snare… has intelligence?"
He quickly applied a few drops of potion.
The plant greedily absorbed the nutrients, enhancing its magical output—
But again, it didn't attack.
It waited.
Gathering power like a dam filled to the brim.
Then—
BOOM!
The magical force surged forward with overwhelming strength.
Crack!
The barrier shattered!
Another node processed.
Excited, Robert repeated the process.
One cut after another.
Potions ran low fast.
But with each use, Sectumsempra's silver glow intensified.
Silver-tier was now within arm's reach.
Meanwhile, at the Ministry hearing venue,
Professor Sprout had arrived.
The moment she stepped in,
reporters descended like piranhas sensing blood.
Flashbulbs popped.
Questions fired from all directions—
"Professor Sprout, is The Daily Prophet's report true?"
"Are you involved in an academic scandal?"
"What about your nephew getting exclusive Greenhouse privileges?"
"Has Hogwarts lost all academic fairness?"
Sprout frowned deeply.
Before she could speak, a stern voice cut through the crowd.
A figure stormed forward like an angry lioness.
Professor McGonagall.
Her eyes burned with fury.
"Pomona, this is utter slander."
"These vultures don't care about the truth. All they want is headlines."
Sprout shook her head.
"No, Minerva. This isn't just the press."
"There's a larger force at play—trying to bring down Dumbledore."
McGonagall nodded gravely.
"We all suspect the same. This hearing won't be fair."
"Dumbledore's trying to find a solution—"
But before she could finish, a sickeningly sweet voice interrupted:
"Excuse me, Professors."
"I can't let you chat for too long before the hearing begins."
A short, toad-like woman appeared—
clad in pink, adorned with lace and a velvet ribbon.
She looked utterly revolting.
But she smiled obliviously and extended a plump hand.
"I'm Dolores Umbridge.
Senior Undersecretary to the Minister for Magic,
and head of the new Hogwarts Academic Injustice Investigation Unit."
Sprout and McGonagall gave her nothing more than a disgusted glance.
Umbridge retracted her hand with an oily chuckle.
"Well, Professor, if you'll follow me to the lounge…"
Her gaze was predatory.
Full of undisguised malice.
Back at the Greenhouse,
Robert continued working with Sectumsempra,
but his potion supply had dwindled drastically.
Each potion allowed for processing only a few nodes.
Compared to regular pruning charms, the cost was ten times higher.
Sprout had left enough potions for second-tier node processing.
Yet after only ten first-tier nodes, the supply was nearly exhausted.
Still, the rewards were worth it.
On the system panel, Sectumsempra shimmered—
the last trace of bronze was nearly gone.
Only silver light remained.
But this final step seemed immovable through practice alone.
Robert reflected quietly.
"Sectumsempra is a Dark Art. And like all Dark Arts, it depends on emotion."
"To master the Killing Curse, one must truly desire death."
"To deepen Sectumsempra, one needs… pain."
Real pain.
Loss.
His heart wasn't there yet.
He would wait.
Power would come.
Suddenly, Robert noticed something—
Sprout had been gone a long time.
It was already dark.
Where was she?
He headed to the living room.
There, on the table, lay a letter.
In it, Professor Sprout simply said she had business to attend to and left in a rush.
But something felt off.
Her tone didn't match her usual calmness.
Robert frowned.
He called for Lis.
"Lis."
Lis appeared nervously.
"Yes, Little Master?"
"Where is Professor Sprout?"
Lis looked away.
"Dinner is ready! Burgundy stew, Wellington beef, even Stargazy Pie—"
Robert narrowed his eyes.
"You're dodging."
His voice turned firm.
"Lis, are you lying to your master?"
"Do you want to be fired?"
Lis burst into tears.
"Lis would never lie! But Lis was ordered not to tell—"
Robert's tone softened.
"You don't need to speak."
"Just point to where I can find out."
Trembling, Lis pointed to a drawer.
Robert opened it—
Inside: a copy of The Daily Prophet and a stack of letters.
Reading the slanderous article, Robert's anger surged.
Sprout had cared for him like family.
Her reputation—dragged through the mud.
He looked at the journalist's name.
Rita Skeeter.
"You'll pay."
Among the letters was a Ministry summons—
signed by Cornelius Fudge, Dolores Umbridge, and others.
Now he understood.
She didn't want him involved.
She went alone.
Robert clenched his fists.
The Magical World wasn't a fairy tale.
Fudge—the same power-hungry minister who denied Voldemort's return.
A pawn of politics.
Umbridge—the most loathsome villain of all.
His heart filled with rage.
On the system panel, Sectumsempra suddenly gleamed—
the last bronze glint vanished.
[Sectumsempra (Silver-tier)]—Promoted!
But Robert barely noticed.
He had only one thought:
He had to act. Now.
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