Chapter 92 Draw the sword and kill!
"Hahaha, look at Neville, a single snake has him trembling with fear." Malfoy laughed without restraint, his tone full of contempt.
"Exactly, Harry probably isn't doing much better." Crabbe, Malfoy's crony, echoed, a smug smile on his face.
"It seems Gryffindor isn't all that this year. Aside from Ron, everyone else is just a rookie."
Other Slytherin students also voiced their opinions, their words filled with disdain for Gryffindor.
"That's right, that's right, Gryffindor is destined to be defeated by us this year."
Other Slytherin students also joined in the jeering, as if they had already foreseen Gryffindor's defeat.
Watching Neville's nervous and timid reaction to the black snake on stage, the Gryffindor students couldn't help but worry for him.
This black snake looked so fierce; could Neville really handle it?
Harry couldn't help but ask anxiously, "Ron, do you think Neville will win?"
Ron chuckled lightly and said, "Don't worry, Harry. Neville's strength is more than just this."
You know, in the original story, Neville could even cut off Lord Voldemort's great snake, so why would he be afraid of this little snake?
The small snake in front of Neville made his heart pound.
He widened his eyes, watching the black snake slowly slither towards him, a surge of fear rising in his heart. He felt his legs weaken, as if he might collapse at any moment.
The scales on the black snake's body shimmered with a cold light under the illumination, sending shivers down one's spine.
It opened its mouth, revealing sharp fangs, and hissed, as if threatening Neville.
Goyle looked at Neville's panicked expression and laughed mockingly, "How's it going, little Neville? Scared already?" His tone was full of sarcasm and provocation.
Neville took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down.
He remembered the "Sword Draw Slash" that Ron had taught him last night.
Although that magic was simple, it contained Ron's profound mastery.
He closed his eyes, recalling Ron's words and actions from last night.
Last night.
Ron smiled and said to Neville, "Neville, today I'm going to teach you the Sword Draw Slash."
Neville asked with some confusion, "What is the Sword Draw Slash? Am I learning swordsmanship?"
Ron smiled and shook his head, explaining, "No, my Sword Draw Slash, anything can be used as a sword. All things in the world, I can cut them down with one sword!"
Neville was stunned by Ron's words. He had never imagined magic could be used in such a way.
Ron continued, "The Sword Draw Slash is about cultivating a sword momentum within your chest. Sword momentum, as it's called, describes the aura a sword projects. Your sword momentum reflects the kind of person you are."
"So, what should I do next?" Neville asked Ron curiously, filled with anticipation for the magic he was about to learn.
Ron smiled and continued to explain, "The next step is cultivation. You must constantly cultivate the sword momentum within your chest, as if a vast and righteous energy is surging within it. Remember, 'With a vast and righteous energy in the chest, a thousand miles of wind across the heavens and earth feel exhilarating!' This is the essence of the Sword Draw Slash."
Neville was deeply shaken by Ron's words. He seemed to see Ron's broad mind and extraordinary spirit.
A feeling of admiration surged in his heart, and at the same time, he became even more eager to learn this magic.
"Ron, how should I practice?" Neville asked impatiently.
Ron gently raised his hand and placed two fingers on Neville's forehead. A warm power instantly flowed into Neville's mind.
Neville felt a clear sensation surge through him. He seemed to see the image of that vast and righteous energy in his heart and understood how to cultivate it.
"Thank you, Ron!" Neville said gratefully.
Ron smiled and nodded. He knew that Neville had understood the mystery of the Sword Draw Slash.
Neville slowly opened his eyes, deeply pondering everything Ron had taught him last night.
At that moment, he seemed to grasp the true meaning of magic.
Even though he held only a magic wand in his hand, in his heart, it had transformed into a sharp longsword.
The "Sword Draw Slash" taught by Ron was not just a magical technique, but also a cultivation of the mind.
Neville was to treat his magic wand as a longsword, and anything he saw, he would cut down with one strike, making it invincible.
"Sword Draw Slash!" Neville whispered softly, his voice full of confidence and determination.
He was going to completely release that vast and righteous energy in his chest, allowing the magicwand in his hand to unleash unprecedented power.
Goyle didn't hear what Neville was saying. He laughed mockingly, "Kid, speak louder! I didn't hear you! Hahahahaha, a coward is a coward!"
The boos from the crowd grew even more piercing. The Slytherin students jeered, seemingly convinced that Neville would lose this match.
"Get down already, don't make a fool of yourself!"
Malfoy also added fuel to the fire, whistling and looking utterly disdainful.
Harry looked at Neville on the stage, his heart tightening even more.
He worried that Neville wouldn't be able to withstand such pressure and would lose confidence in this match.
However, Ron gently patted Harry's shoulder. He smiled and said, "It's okay. As long as you believe in me, Neville will win."
Ron's words were like a warm current, slowly flowing into Harry's heart.
He believed in Ron's judgment and Neville's strength. Encouraged by Ron, Harry's uneasy heart gradually relaxed.
As Neville's words fell, his magic wand instantly transformed into a gleaming longsword, its blade shimmering with dazzling light, as if containing endless magic.
This scene startled Professor Snape, who was serving as the referee.
He had initially thought the match would quickly end in Neville's defeat, but now he saw an unexpected turn of events.
Neville gripped the longsword tightly and pulled it out sharply, the blade leaving its sheath with a crisp sound.
Goyle's originally mocking expression gradually turned solemn. He muttered, "This is… this is…" He seemed unable to believe his eyes or understand what was happening before him.
Immediately after, a dazzling sword light flashed like lightning before everyone, moving so fast that people couldn't react.
With a "swish," the white light flashed, and the once arrogant black snake was instantly pulverized into dust by the sword energy, dissipating into the air.
The sword energy was so powerful that even Goyle was affected.
His fat body, under the impact, was instantly sent flying, landing heavily on the other side of the rectangular platform.
The entire venue fell silent. Everyone was stunned by Neville's astonishing performance.
Professor Snape also showed a surprised expression. He secretly sighed, "This kid, he has such magictalent?!"
He felt that the move Neville had performed, with its immense power and speed, was in no way inferior to his own self-created "Sectumsempra."
The Gryffindor students cheered and rejoiced at Neville's outstanding performance.
Meanwhile, the Slytherin students exchanged glances, unable to believe that their perceived strong opponent had been defeated by a "weakling" they had always looked down upon.
Chapter 93 Dean No. 8 appears!
When Professor Snape witnessed Goyle being mercilessly struck down by his opponent, he was momentarily stunned.
Goyle, the student who prided himself on his strong physique, now lay as if all his strength had been drained, completely unable to get up.
Then, Professor Snape regained his composure and slowly announced, "Gryffindor, Neville wins!"
The Gryffindor students immediately erupted in cheers, embracing and jumping, celebrating their victory.
However, Professor Snape's gaze turned to Goyle lying on the ground, his eyes revealing a complex emotion of disappointment.
He frowned slightly, his tone carrying a hint of sternness: "Two Slytherin students, take him to the Hospital Wing."
As soon as he finished speaking, several Slytherin students exchanged glances, appearing somewhat unwilling.
But under Professor Snape's authoritative gaze, they had no choice but to brace themselves, carefully lift Goyle, and take him to the Hospital Wing.
Professor Snape once again scanned the Slytherin students, his eyes conveying a warning.
The students felt his gaze and lowered their heads, secretly trembling, afraid of becoming the next target of his reprimand.
Then, Professor Snape's gaze shifted to Neville, and in that instant, a hint of almost imperceptible approval flickered in his eyes.
The Professor, known for his strictness, now showed a rare sign of recognition for Neville.
Professor Snape secretly marveled:
He never expected Neville, at such a young age, to be able to create such a unique spell. It's truly remarkable. He recalled that he himself had only barely invented Sectumsempra, a Dark Arts spell, in his fifth year.
The power of the Sectumsempra spell is immense; once cast, it tears large wounds in the victim's body, and these injuries cannot be healed by any means, including healing magic.
The stealth and malevolence of this Dark Arts spell are chilling.
Because it is Dark Arts, such power is normal.
Is Neville's move White magic?
But the move Neville displayed seemed to transcend the realm of White magic, containing an indescribable righteousness.
In that instant, Neville seemed to transform into a master swordsman, towering above everyone else.
Looking at Professor Snape's approving gaze, Ron couldn't help but feel a surge of satisfaction.
He thought: It seems Professor Snape was also shocked by Neville's move. However, he probably didn't expect that Neville's move wasn't actually a magic spell at all, but merely a self-created set of ordinary sword techniques.
Soon, Neville finished his match and stepped off the stage.
He came to Ron and his other roommates, his face full of excitement and anticipation, and eagerly asked:
"How was my performance just now?"
Although Neville had exhausted his magic due to the stunning "sword draw" just now, his spirit remained very high.
Ron looked at Neville and nodded with a smile:
"Good, you played very well. The most important thing now is to rest well and recover your magic. For the upcoming matches, as long as you follow my strategy, there will be no problem."
Hearing Ron's affirmation and encouragement, Dean, who was scheduled to appear in match number 8, also relaxed a lot.
He chuckled easily, "That's right, we'll all win our matches."
Ron was also full of confidence.
He understood that as long as his roommates could successfully win their matches, the school would strengthen their training and attention.
This way, they would gain more resources and opportunities to further enhance their strength.
Resources, for them, were everything.
As long as they had enough resources, their strength would also increase significantly. Now, they just needed to move towards their goals step by step.
On the other hand, Draco Malfoy's face was so gloomy it looked like it could drip water.
He squinted at Crabbe beside him, his tone carrying a hint of threat:
"Crabbe, I don't want to see you lose this match. If you dare to lose, then your father's dream of promotion will be completely out of the question."
Upon hearing this, Crabbe's face instantly turned pale, and a fine layer of cold sweat broke out on his forehead.
His body trembled slightly, and his voice also had a tremor: "Okay… Okay… I understand, I will definitely win."
Crabbe approached Malfoy simply to use his influence to elevate his family's status.
In his opinion, relying on the House of Malfoy was the simplest and most direct way.
Wiping the cold sweat from his forehead, he cautiously probed, asking:
"Boss, can you… can you help me out?"
Malfoy glared at him, saying with a look of displeasure:
"Useless thing, do I have to personally help you?"
However, Crabbe heard a glimmer of opportunity in Malfoy's words.
His heart rejoiced, and he quickly pressed: "Then, Boss, are you…?"
Malfoy took something out of his pocket and quietly slipped it into Crabbe's pocket.
He leaned close to Crabbe's ear and whispered, "You do this… this way… and you're guaranteed to win."
After hearing Malfoy's instructions, Crabbe suddenly understood, and a triumphant smile appeared on his face: "So that's it, I understand."
The two exchanged a look, their eyes gleaming with cunning.
"Next up is match number 2," Professor Snape said.
As his words fell, two students from Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw slowly walked onto the stage, their steps and faces showing a hint of nervousness.
After they bowed to each other, the match officially began.
However, the ensuing duel was quite anticlimactic.
The two small wizards seemed to be new to magic; their magic lights intertwined in the air, but they always failed to hit each other.
The audience shook their heads; such a duel was simply too boring.
Nevertheless, after some entanglement, the Hufflepuff side surprisingly won the match with a slight advantage.
The Hufflepuff students immediately erupted in enthusiastic cheers, while the Ravenclaw students appeared somewhat dejected.
The next few magic duels were equally uninspired.
They were either clumsy exchanges between novices or one-sided demolitions, completely lacking any highlights.
Professor Snape also looked speechless, clearly disappointed with such matches.
"Next up is match number 8," Professor Snape announced again.
Harry gently nudged Dean beside him, signaling that it was his turn to go on stage.
Dean looked back at his roommates, smiled slightly, and then confidently walked to the front of the stage.
And his opponent was none other than Malfoy's minion, Crabbe.
Crabbe, like Goyle, was corpulent, but at this moment, his face wore a sneer.
Seeing Dean step onto the stage, he scoffed, "Don't worry, I'll make sure you lose miserably."
Ron heard Crabbe's words and couldn't help but frown. He thought: Where does this guy get his confidence?
Chapter 94: Bull Body Refining Technique
Watching Crabbe's arrogant display on stage, Malfoy couldn't help but feel pleased.
He thought to himself, 'Hmph, it seems what my father gave me is truly extraordinary. With just this, Crabbe can sweep through all the first-year students. This time, our Slytherin is truly secure!'
Malfoy's smugness was evident; he seemed to already see Crabbe winning the match and standing on the podium, basking in everyone's attention.
And Professor Snape, watching Crabbe's performance, also revealed a satisfied smile.
He thought, 'That's right, this is how our Slytherin students should be! Brave, confident, and exceptionally strong. It seems Slytherin will shine brightly in this competition again.'
However, Dean stood on stage, looking at Crabbe's smug expression, and couldn't help but feel a bit puzzled.
He thought, 'Crabbe, this guy, although usually arrogant, his strength is only so-so. Why is he suddenly so confident today? Does he have some trump card?'
Dean began to be vigilant; he knew this match wouldn't be easy.
Below the stage, the audience's mood was a different scene. Harry looked at Malfoy and Crabbe's smug and unrestrained demeanor, and couldn't help but feel a sense of confusion.
He quietly asked Ron:
"These two seem very confident. Did we underestimate them?"
Although Neville was weak at the moment, the competition on stage had already given him a lot of experience.
He carefully observed Crabbe's expression, his brows furrowed, and his heart was also full of doubt:
"Something's definitely wrong. Crabbe's expression shouldn't be that of a loser. He looks very confident. Does he really have some trump card?"
Ron, however, seemed relatively calm. He chuckled:
"Don't worry, everyone. The move I taught Dean is almost impossible to break easily. Dean's defense is quite strong. Just relax and watch the match; I believe he will definitely be able to show his strength."
Hearing Ron's words, his roommates all nodded, and their worries eased a bit.
Hermione, next to them, was still engrossed in Neville's sword strike, somewhat unable to extricate herself, and she was constantly pondering that move in her mind.
Ron chuckled, "What, Hermione, do you want to learn this move too?"
Hermione was a bit confused; she was very puzzled by Neville's strength.
Logically, Neville shouldn't have such strong strength, so why is it so strange?
At this moment, Hermione had a bold idea: "Ron, did you teach him all of this?"
Ron nodded slightly and smiled, "That's right, it was me."
Hermione, next to him, was still immersed in Neville's stunning 'Sword Draw Slash.' Her eyes showed a strong interest in that move, and she was silently pondering its mysteries in her mind.
Seeing this, Ron chuckled and teased:
"What, Hermione, do you want to learn this move too?"
Hermione snapped back to reality and looked at Ron with some confusion. She was very puzzled by Neville's sudden display of great strength.
She frowned and thought, 'Logically, Neville shouldn't have such strong strength. What exactly is going on?'
Suddenly, a bold idea flashed through Hermione's mind.
She widened her eyes and looked at Ron, asking tentatively, "Ron, did you teach him all of this?"
Ron smiled slightly, nodded, and candidly said, "That's right, I taught him."
Hearing this answer, Hermione immediately let out a sigh of relief, and the doubts in her heart vanished.
Only then did she understand that Neville was able to display such powerful strength because there was an expert like Ron guiding him behind the scenes.
She leaned into Ron's ear and whispered:
"Ron, did you forget something?" As she spoke, she lightly stepped on Ron's foot.
Ron suddenly realized, remembering that he had previously promised Hermione to teach her a few spells.
He chuckled awkwardly:
"I'm sorry, Hermione, I almost forgot. I'll definitely teach you tomorrow, but for now, let's watch the match on stage. Dean's move, you've definitely never seen it before; it's very exciting."
Hermione then removed her foot from Ron's, her beautiful eyes looking expectantly at Dean on stage.
She was looking forward to seeing more exciting duels.
On stage, Professor Snape gave the command: "Let the match begin."
As his words fell, the two contestants bowed to each other, and then the match officially began.
Crabbe went all out from the start. He raised his wand high and chanted, "Incendio!"
Immediately, a scorching fire surged forth, like a fiery snake dancing wildly.
The power of the flames was blinding, and the entire arena seemed to be enveloped by this heatwave.
Facing Crabbe's fierce attack, Dean remained calm and composed.
He quickly raised his wand and softly chanted, "Ice Binding Curse!"
A rapidly forming ice shard shot straight towards the flames.
The ice shard collided with the flames, instantly erupting in a piercing sound.
Under everyone's gaze, the flames were gradually suppressed by the ice shard and eventually extinguished completely. The entire arena also became cool under this frosty power.
"Is that all? It's not as impressive as Seamus's explosion spell!" Dean smiled easily, seemingly unconcerned by Crabbe's offensive.
"Don't rush, I still have this move!"
Crabbe roared, his face filled with fury. He was clearly unwilling to be underestimated by Dean like this and decided to use more powerful magic to suppress his opponent.
He took a deep breath and loudly chanted:
"Expelliarmus!"
As the spell was cast, a strong magical energy shot from Crabbe's wand, heading straight for Dean.
Dean hadn't expected Crabbe to suddenly use this move. He didn't have time to react, and his wand was struck by this powerful energy, instantly falling to the ground.
"Haha, I wonder how you'll play without a wand?" Crabbe laughed triumphantly.
Malfoy was also ecstatic beside him, thinking:
I didn't expect the victor to be decided so quickly? Crabbe truly didn't waste my trust in him.
Professor Snape also nodded slightly, expressing his approval of Crabbe's performance.
Indeed, "Expelliarmus" is a powerful spell that can quickly decide the outcome of a match.
However, the match did not end there.
Crabbe had no intention of giving Dean any breathing room. He quickly pulled something out of his pocket and threw it fiercely at Dean.
Dean was currently focused on walking forward to pick up his dropped wand, completely unaware of Crabbe's actions.
"It's over!"
Harry couldn't help but exclaim, feeling a cold sweat for Dean.
Just then, a loud bang suddenly erupted, and a huge explosion instantly enveloped the entire arena.
A strong shockwave swept through, causing the surrounding spectators to retreat repeatedly.
After the explosion, black smoke rose from the arena, and dust filled the air, making it impossible to see what was happening inside.
Crabbe laughed triumphantly, mocking, "Hmph, won't you still lose?"
Malfoy below the stage also jumped up excitedly. He whistled, as if he had already seen Dean's defeat.
The other spectators anxiously watched the thick smoke on the arena, their hearts filled with anticipation and unease.
They all wondered what kind of situation would emerge once the smoke cleared.
However, when the thick smoke finally cleared, everyone was stunned.
Dean was still standing in place, unharmed.
Even more astonishing, a huge phantom of a bull appeared on his body!
Chapter 95: Just a Punch
Crabbe stared at Dean with unblinking eyes; he had witnessed the scene amidst the deafening explosion, yet Dean seemed unaffected, completely unharmed.
At that moment, Crabbe felt a chill run down his spine.
He involuntarily took two steps back, trying to distance himself from the unbelievable sight.
"How is this possible?!" Crabbe cried out, his face filled with bewilderment.
"This is a Malfoy family prop, and its power is no joke!"
Professor Snape had already prepared to rush over and drag Dean to the infirmary, but when he saw Dean completely unharmed, he too was stunned.
He carefully observed Dean, suddenly noticing the faint, flickering phantom of a Raging Bull around him, and a surge of surprise and doubt rose within him.
"This is... Body Tempering Art?" Professor Snape murmured to himself, "Body Tempering Art, hasn't it been lost?"
The audience below displayed various expressions, full of curiosity.
The appearance of that enormous Raging Bull phantom immediately sparked heated discussion among the small wizards.
"Wow!"
A small wizard couldn't help but exclaim, his eyes wide.
"This is too cool!"
Another small wizard excitedly patted his friend next to him, his face full of admiration, clearly shaken by the power displayed by the Raging Bull phantom.
"This move, the Professor didn't teach us!"
A somewhat confused small wizard muttered to himself, scratching his head.
"No, buddy, who taught you this move?!"
A curious small wizard directly shouted at Dean, his face filled with a thirst for knowledge.
In the crowd, Harry said to Ron:
"Ron, this move you taught is too strong! The defense is incredible!"
Hermione also looked at Ron with envy: "Ron, teach me a couple of moves too!" She shook Ron's arm, her eyes sparkling with anticipation.
Ron chuckled softly and comforted her:
"There are no useless divine abilities, only suitable ones. What I've given you are what's most suitable for you; you don't need to envy Dean."
At this moment, Ron leaned close to Hermione's ear and whispered, "Don't worry, I'll teach you an even more powerful move in a couple of days!"
This made Hermione's cheeks flush slightly, and she softly said, "Okay, thank you."
On the other side.
Malfoy's heart was enveloped by an inexplicable fear; he furrowed his brow, deep in thought.
"How is this possible?"
He muttered to himself, his voice revealing incredible doubt.
"My father said this Dark Arts bomb was specially designed for younger students, powerful enough to make them unable to resist. But... but why was Dean able to resist it so easily?"
Malfoy's mind was in chaos; he tried to find answers, but everything before him seemed to be beyond his comprehension.
He couldn't help but start to wonder if his plan had gone wrong, if something had been overlooked.
"Damn it, damn it!"
Malfoy cursed under his breath, his mood becoming exceptionally irritable.
However, just then, his hand accidentally touched something in his pocket, which brought a sense of relief to his heart.
"It's okay, it's okay, I still have several trump cards, it's fine, it's fine..."
Malfoy mumbled to himself, trying to calm his inner panic in this way.
He exhaled deeply, trying to compose himself.
Then, his gaze fell upon the smiling Harry Potter.
A surge of anger burned in Malfoy's heart; he stared intently at Harry, as if trying to see through him.
"You better not let me catch you, or you'll be in a lot of trouble."
Malfoy said softly, his voice full of malice.
His anger had reached its peak, seemingly ready to erupt at any moment.
Back on the stage, the atmosphere instantly became even more tense.
"This is... what is this?"
Crabbe looked at the massive Raging Bull phantom in front of Dean, his face showing a mix of fear and confusion.
That huge figure seemed to contain endless power, giving him an unprecedented sense of oppression.
People are always afraid of the unknown, and Crabbe was no exception.
Facing this sudden change, he subconsciously took two steps back, trying to maintain distance from this mysterious power.
Dean, however, stood calmly in place; he lightly shook his wrist and let out a long breath.
At the same time, the Raging Bull phantom on him also moved slightly, as if synchronized with his breathing rhythm.
In fact, before going on stage, Dean wasn't entirely confident.
To be safe, he had specifically applied several Qi Shield Technique talismans to himself, adding an extra layer of protection.
And after getting on stage, he had been secretly activating the Raging Bull phantom on him, which was the Raging Bull Body Tempering Art taught to him by Ron.
When Ron taught them the technique, he also specifically said something to his roommates:
"When facing an enemy, one must control others and not be controlled by others."
This sentence was deeply imprinted in Dean's heart.
He understood that when engaging with an enemy, one must strike quickly, seize the initiative, and not give the opponent the slightest chance to breathe.
Just like earlier, being hit by Crabbe's Expelliarmus was actually just a deliberate opening he showed.
The real killing move was the Raging Bull Body Tempering Art hidden behind it.
Dean took a deep breath, then slowly exhaled; his steps were firm and powerful as he moved forward.
The Raging Bull phantom on him echoed his movements, also moving forward.
"Well, Crabbe, the power of your bomb move truly isn't small!"
Dean had a hint of a provocative smile on his face, seemingly not taking the previous danger to heart.
"Since you know this move is powerful, how dare you walk so close?"
Crabbe tried to remain calm, but a hint of panic was evident in his voice.
His feet also involuntarily stepped back, wanting to create distance from Dean.
"Don't rush, I'm not complimenting you," Dean chuckled sarcastically. "I just want to see what other moves you have besides this bomb?"
"Don't come over here, I have plenty of trump cards!"
Crabbe gripped his wand tightly, trying to threaten Dean with words.
At this moment.
Crabbe noticed that Dean didn't have a wand in his hand, which made him feel a sense of triumph.
"Without a wand, how can you make a move?" Crabbe mocked.
The small wizards below also noticed this, and they began to whisper:
"Dean doesn't have a wand, is he going to fight bare-handed?"
These voices reached Crabbe's ears, making him even more confident.
He felt that he had gained an absolute advantage, and as long as he remained vigilant, he would surely be able to defeat Dean.
However, Dean merely smiled faintly, not taking these discussions to heart.
He suddenly accelerated, charging towards Crabbe.
His figure moved swiftly on the stage, like an unstoppable Raging Bull, full of power.
One punch!
"Bang!"
Before Crabbe could even use a spell, he fell far away like a kite with a broken string.
Chapter 96 Harry Potter vs. Draco Malfoy
"What? He fell with one punch?"
The small wizards below the stage exclaimed in surprise, hardly believing their eyes.
"That was too fast. He instantly defeated his opponent with one punch. There's nothing to say!" Someone sighed.
"Exactly! Crabbe is a Wizard after all. How can his physical strength be so weak?" Another person asked, puzzled.
"Hmph, you don't understand, do you?" Harry suddenly interjected. He was also filled with shock watching Dean's feat of instantly defeating Crabbe with one punch.
"This isn't an ordinary Wizard; this is a close-combat mage!"
"Close-combat mage? What the hell is that?" A small Wizard completely didn't understand what Harrywas saying.
"A close-combat mage refers to Wizards who are skilled in magic attacks and also possess powerful physical strength."
Harry explained, "Dean is this type of Wizard. His physical strength is very formidable, allowing him to easily defeat opponents."
"Oh, I see!" Everyone suddenly understood.
"But how could Dean possess such powerful physical strength?" Someone else raised a question.
"I guess Dean might have Giant blood!" A small Wizard whispered, guessing, "Only that can explain why he has such powerful punch strength."
"Hmm, that guess makes sense too." Someone nodded, "Dean's physical strength is indeed very formidable. Maybe he really does have Giant blood."
"However, don't forget that Dean's height isn't particularly tall, and his skin is only slightly darker." Another person countered, "Can that be considered Giant blood?"
"Maybe he hasn't grown tall yet?" Another small Wizard argued, "Maybe he'll turn into a real Giant in the future!"
Everyone laughed at the remark.
Watching the small wizards chattering and exchanging thoughts, Ron couldn't help but cover his eyes, feeling a bit helpless.
He thought to himself: These people are really making it more and more exaggerated. It's not that incredible.
Actually, the Raging Bull Body Tempering Art is just a cultivation method I casually created. It's not that magical.
That's right, the Raging Bull Body Tempering Art, created by Ron, was indeed derived from the Dragon Elephant Body Refining Art.
But in terms of power, it doesn't even reach one-tenth of the Dragon Elephant Body Refining Art.
The difference lies in the fact that each layer of the Raging Bull Body Tempering Art is only equivalent to the power of one raging bull.
Whereas each layer of the Dragon Elephant Body Refining Art contains the immense power of a dragon and a Giant elephant.
More importantly.
The Raging Bull Body Tempering Art has a cultivation limit of only ten layers, while the Dragon Elephant Body Refining Art can be cultivated to thirteen layers.
The difference between them is like heaven and earth.
Ron sighed, thinking:
In that case, ten layers of the Raging Bull Body Tempering Art are roughly equivalent to the power of two layers of the Dragon Elephant Body Refining Art.
However, the combined attack of ten raging bulls should not be underestimated.
As for Dean, his Raging Bull Body Tempering Art is currently only at the first layer, with a long way to go before reaching full layers.
Ron plans to teach Dean some more advanced cultivation methods after he cultivates the Raging Bull Body Tempering Art to full layers.
After all, the simpler the cultivation method, the faster the cultivation speed.
Ron estimated that Dean would probably need about three months to cultivate the Raging Bull Body Tempering Art to perfection.
By then, his physical strength would surely undergo a qualitative leap, making him a true close-combat mage.
Watching Crabbe being directly sent flying out of the arena by Dean's unstoppable punch.
Professor Snape stood aside, a bewildered expression on his face.
He muttered to himself:
What on earth is going on? I clearly wanted you to use spells to defeat your opponent, but how could you just punch him flying like that?
This is practically a boxing match, not a magic duel!
Professor Snape felt a bit at a loss. He had clear expectations and plans for this duel, but now they were disrupted by Dean's sudden action.
However, he also knew that Dean hadn't violated any rules.
In this duel, there was no rule against using physical strength.
It's just that everyone usually preferred to use magic to solve problems.
Helplessly, Professor Snape could only announce loudly:
"Gryffindor, Dean wins!" His voice carried a hint of helplessness.
Amidst the cheers of the crowd, Dean calmly walked off the stage.
A slight smile played on his face, satisfied with his performance.
The audience, meanwhile, discussed the unexpected duel, looking at Dean's strength with new eyes.
On the other side, Crabbe was dragged to the infirmary by several small wizards.
He lay on the hospital bed, his face pale, clearly badly beaten by Dean's punch.
The infirmary teacher was examining his injuries, while Crabbe kept his eyes closed, still reliving the thrilling moment he had just experienced.
Seeing Dean return to his seat with a smile, Harry, Hermione, and others congratulated him.
Dean was exceptionally pleased; the duel earlier was just a small game for him to showcase his strength.
Ron sat nearby, stroking his chin, his eyes revealing his approval of Dean's strength:
"Dean, you held back, didn't you!"
Dean was slightly stunned, then scratched his head and laughed:
"That's right, I used about ten percent of my power to attack him. I was afraid of killing him with one punch."
Upon hearing this, everyone except Ron was dumbfounded.
They had no idea that the move Dean had learned was so powerful.
Ron explained with a smile:
"After all, one layer of the Raging Bull Body Tempering Art has the offensive power of one raging bull. Imagine, can you stop a mad raging bull charging at you?"
However, Ron's tone suddenly shifted, and he said to Dean:
"But, Dean, when you blocked the Dark Arts bomb just now, you must have used eighty percent of your strength, right? You still need to keep practicing!"
Dean nodded in agreement:
"Ron, you're spot on. His Dark Arts bomb was indeed quite powerful. If I hadn't had this move, I might have just passed out."
Then, Dean turned to Harry and advised:
"Harry, you need to be careful in the upcoming matches. If your opponent is Malfoy, be especially wary of his Dark Arts."
Harry nodded seriously.
As the matches continued, one duel after another seemed unremarkable, gradually causing the audience, who had been expecting fierce battles, to lose interest.
Professor Snape stood by, watching the weak and ineffective magic attacks displayed by these small wizards, feeling a sense of disappointment.
He thought to himself, if these small wizards could duke it out with their fists like Dean just did, at least it would be somewhat interesting to watch.
But the reality was that their magic attacks lacked power and precision, making people yawn.
Just then, Professor Snape's voice rang out:
"Next up, number 25!"
Everyone's gaze turned to the stage, anticipating the appearance of the next contestant.
Harry slowly walked to the front of the stage, a hint of determination on his face.
And on the other side, as expected, Draco Malfoy also walked onto the stage!
Chapter 97 Five Thunders Righteousness
Hogwarts Castle, Great Hall.
And in the center of the Great Hall was the eye-catching arena.
At this moment, Harry and Malfoy stood on the arena, their figures appearing even taller under the candlelight.
The audience watched nervously, their eyes wide, at the upcoming match.
This match was undoubtedly the most anticipated one by everyone.
Harry, the Boy Who Lived, his courage and wisdom had long been a legend at Hogwarts.
And Malfoy, the strongest first-year of Slytherin, the proud son of Lucius Malfoy, his magic talent was also not to be underestimated.
Now, Ron's roommates, including Hermione, all believed Harry would win.
After all, under Ron's careful guidance, Harry had mastered many powerful magic techniques.
They believed these techniques were enough for Harry to stand out in the match.
However, other first-year small wizards did not have such strong judgment.
They might not have a deep enough understanding of magic, nor were they familiar enough with the rules of the match.
But they still watched the match with great enthusiasm, looking forward to seeing a spectacular contest.
Purely for entertainment.
Other older students had a more unique view of this match.
Hufflepuff's model student, Cedric Diggory, and Gryffindor's senior student, Percy Weasley, stood among the crowd, and their conversation attracted a lot of attention.
Cedric, the student known for his handsome appearance and outstanding talent, now beamed with excitement as he eagerly asked Percy:
"Percy, who do you think will win this match?"
Percy frowned slightly, seemingly not entirely confident in the answer:
"That's a difficult question to answer. After all, the results of matches are often unexpected. We'll have to see the specific circumstances of the match before we can make a judgment."
Cedric didn't seem surprised by Percy's answer and continued to press:
"Harry is the pride of your Gryffindor. You should have a deeper impression of him, right?"
Percy nodded, and after a moment of thought, replied: "
Harry is indeed a very talented Wizard, and his magic abilities are not to be underestimated. But having said that, I think he might still be slightly inferior to Malfoy. Of course, this is not to say that Harry has no chance of winning, but from the current situation, Malfoy seems to have some advantage."
Cedric heard this, and a meaningful smile appeared on his handsome face:
"Your analysis makes a lot of sense. Actually, the lower-grade magic courses are indeed relatively simple, and their competitions often lack sufficient suspense. Just like the previous match between Neville and Dean, although the process was thrilling and exciting, overall it was still within reason. However, I am still very much looking forward to seeing the strength and potential they display."
Percy also smiled and echoed:
"That's right, the phantom of the bull on Dean was truly impressive, that sense of power was simply awe-inspiring. But having said that, Neville's sword talent is truly astonishing. When he swung that sword, it seemed as if even the air was torn apart, and even we, the fourth and fifth-year students, would probably find it difficult to easily block it. I am very much looking forward to his future performance!"
Cedric asked curiously, "So, in the end, who do you think will win, Harry or Malfoy?"
Percy smiled slightly, seemingly confident: "Then I'll guess Harry will win!"
Cedric's eyes flashed with a hint of challenge upon hearing this:
"Oh? Since you chose Harry, then I'll bet on Malfoy! The House of Malfoy has always been known for its magic talent, and he certainly won't disappoint us in this match."
Their conversation quickly spread around, attracting widespread attention from the older students.
They gathered around, joining the heated discussion, with anticipation and tension written on everyone's faces.
On the stage, Professor Snape, as the referee, watched Harry and Malfoy with deep eyes.
He thought to himself: Harry, how much of your father's strength can you display? I'm really looking forward to it. And Malfoy, don't disappoint me either. I've always looked forward to seeing you show powerful strength in this match and defeat Harry.
Professor Snape cleared his throat and solemnly announced:
"Match start! Wands ready!"
After speaking, Snape even gave Malfoy a special look, as if to put some invisible pressure on him.
Malfoy felt Snape's gaze, and his heart trembled, but he quickly adjusted his state and cheered up.
He took a deep breath, raised his wand, and looked at Harry with firm eyes.
"Harry, I will definitely win this time!" Malfoy said with a sneer.
Harry gently adjusted his glasses, his eyes revealing determination and calmness:
"Malfoy, are you sure? Don't forget that I also have a certain level of strength."
Malfoy's mouth curved into a sinister smile: "Scared, Potter? Today is your doomsday!"
Harry showed no weakness, responding with a serious face: "You're dreaming! I will never let you succeed easily."
Both of them gripped their wands tightly, quickly turned around, and walked steadily to both sides of the arena, their eyes like torches, fully focused.
Professor Snape stood aside, ready to announce the start of the match. He slowly began:
"I'll say 1, 2, 3, and then you start."
Harry and Malfoy nodded to each other, quickly adjusted their postures, and prepared for an intense magic duel.
Their wands were both pointed at each other, and a tense atmosphere filled the air.
Professor Snape began to count: "1, 2..."
However, just as he was about to shout "3", Harry and Malfoy acted almost simultaneously.
It turned out that all of this was the result of Ron's strategizing for Harry before the match.
Ron knew Malfoy's character and fighting style well.
He told Harry: "Malfoy is very cunning. He might not play by the rules, and might even make a move before he counts to 3. You must be careful."
Harry kept this in mind, so at the crucial moment of the match, he closely watched Malfoy's every move.
When Professor Snape counted to "2", Harry felt Malfoy's wand begin to move, so he unhesitatingly made the first move.
Almost at the same moment, Malfoy also unhesitatingly cast his magic.
The tip of his wand flickered with dazzling white light, and the spell gushed out with the breath from his mouth:
"Rictusempra!"
However, Harry, relying on his keen insight and Ron's reminder, had already prepared in advance.
He knew that the key to this match lay in speed and reaction.
Therefore, he unhesitatingly unleashed his ultimate move.
"Five Thunder Incantation!"
Harry shouted loudly, and at the same time, the tip of his wand also erupted with dazzling silver light.
This move was specially taught to Harry by Ron before the match. He knew that the power of this move was immense, enough to give Harry an advantage in the match.
As Harry completed the spell, a thick bolt of lightning instantly shot out from the wand, like a silver giant dragon, roaring through the air and charging towards Malfoy.
And Malfoy's white light also met it at the same moment, and the two collided fiercely in the air!
Chapter 98: Boring, really boring!
Harry's eyes were firm, and he unleashed the 'Five Thunder Righteous Law' without hesitation.
As he waved his wand, a thick bolt of lightning instantly shot out from it, like a silver giant dragon roaring through the air and charging towards Malfoy.
Although Malfoy's magic light was dazzling, it appeared so vulnerable in front of the lightning giant dragon Harry unleashed.
Almost instantly, Malfoy's silver magic light was completely annihilated by the lightning giant dragon, dissipating into the air.
Malfoy was struck by the lightning giant dragon, and he was sent flying by the powerful impact.
He arced a long trajectory through the air, finally crashing heavily at Professor Snape's feet.
Fortunately, Malfoy did not fall out of the arena.
He struggled to sit up, his face pale, his eyes revealing obvious fright and unwillingness. He looked up at Harry, his eyes flashing with anger and resentment.
Harry, on the other hand, looked at Malfoy coldly.
Although he felt a little smug, he was more cautious.
He knew that Malfoy was a cunning opponent, and he could not let his guard down.
Ron had once warned him never to relax his vigilance, or he would pay a heavy price.
Harry took a deep breath, his taut nerves relaxing slightly.
He knew he should have won this match, but he also understood that the real battle might have just begun.
He must continue to be vigilant and be prepared for any of Malfoy's hidden tactics.
Seeing Malfoy struck by the lightning giant dragon and falling to the ground in a sorry state, the audience below instantly burst into gasps of surprise.
"Wow, what new move is this? I've never seen it before!" a small wizard exclaimed, eyes wide with astonishment.
"This lightning is too fierce, Malfoy has no power to fight back at all!" another audience member marveled.
"As expected of the Boy Who Lived, this move can be deified in the lower grades!" someone shouted excitedly.
"Too strong, too strong, Harry is simply a genius!" the audience praised one after another.
"This doesn't look like a first-year student at all; it wouldn't be an exaggeration to say he's a fourth-year!" someone sighed.
Cedric looked at Harry on the stage, a hint of surprise flashing in his eyes:
"It seems Harry won this time. My previous judgment seems to have been a bit off; this is a complete crush!"
Percy shrugged and said:
"It's not over yet; let's wait and see. Maybe Malfoy still has some hidden moves that can turn the tide. Maybe I misjudged, and Harry might not necessarily win."
Amidst the clamor, a small wizard mumbled, though his voice was low, it was caught by those around him:
"It's really strange, how come all these people who use powerful magic are Ron's roommates..."
This sentence was drowned out by the crowd's discussions but caught the attention of some.
They began to recall the amazing performances in previous matches, which indeed seemed to be related to Ron's roommates.
On the stage, Professor Snape glanced at Malfoy, who was sitting at his feet, sighed helplessly, and reached out to pull him up.
He said to Malfoy in a deep voice, "The match is not over yet; continue the match, Malfoy. I hope you'll be more serious and not disappoint me again."
Malfoy stood up, dusted himself off, a hint of unwillingness flashing in his eyes.
He glared at Harry and said fiercely, "Potter, the match isn't over yet! You think you've won? It's far too early!"
Harry adjusted his glasses and calmly responded:
"I know the match isn't over; you don't need to state the obvious. Bring out whatever moves you have; I'm waiting."
Malfoy sneered, "Let's see if you can block this move of mine!"
Harry chuckled lightly and said dismissively, "Less talk, more action."
The audience below started whispering again.
"Malfoy seems to be using low-level magic; compared to Harry, he's miles behind."
"Exactly, that 'Grinning Howler' spell is just trash; how dare he use it. Harry's lightning is what we should be learning!"
Some small wizards began to yearn for Harry's powerful magic, as if they could easily learn it too.
However, they did not know that Harry's 'Five Thunder Righteous Law' was not something anyone could easily learn. It required a profound magical foundation and long-term practice.
Malfoy said to the people below:
"You all stop talking and watch this move of mine!"
With that, Malfoy raised his wand again, his eyes flashing with firm and resolute light.
He clearly did not intend to give Harry any more breathing room and was prepared to fully unleash new magic.
"Suspension Reversal!"
Malfoy growled, and a dazzling white light quickly condensed at the tip of his wand.
He aimed at Harry and released the spell without hesitation.
Harry, however, just chuckled lightly, seemingly not intending to resist at all.
He stood there, quietly waiting for Malfoy's magic to strike.
Instantly, the white light struck Harry like lightning, yet to everyone's surprise, Harry stood unharmed in place, as if the magic had no effect on him.
Malfoy's pupils instantly dilated, and an incredulous expression appeared on his face.
He muttered to himself, "What's going on? My magic didn't work?"
The audience below, seeing this, also began to laugh, discussing Malfoy's incompetence.
"Malfoy is truly useless!"
"It seems Harry has really won this time!"
Malfoy was enraged by the crowd's laughter; his face turned ashen, and he pulled out a pile of items from his pocket, throwing them at Harry without hesitation.
Immediately, smoke filled the air, fire splattered everywhere, and the entire arena instantly became chaotic.
The audience below also unconsciously took a few steps back, afraid of being affected.
Professor Snape also nervously prepared to rescue him; he knew that the magical items Malfoy used were quite powerful, and Harry might find it difficult to resist.
However, just as everyone thought Harry was about to fall into the predicament created by Malfoy's Dark Arts items...
Ron chuckled from below, taunting:
"Malfoy, look how desperate you are, you're even starting to use Dark Arts items. You're truly impatient!"
Malfoy's face instantly grew even darker when he heard Ron's taunt.
He glared at Ron furiously, consumed by anger.
"Ron, stop talking nonsense here! You just wait and see the scars on Harry's body!"
Malfoy said fiercely, his anger almost making him lose his mind.
As the smoke gradually cleared, Professor Snape stepped forward, ready to rescue Harry from the chaos.
Something unexpected happened.
A bright magical shield suddenly emerged around Harry, tightly enveloping him.
This shield emitted a dazzling light, as if it could withstand all attacks.
The magical shield around Harry was completely different from the Savage Bull phantom around Dean.
Dean's Savage Bull phantom was full of wildness and power, while Harry's shield appeared pure and resilient, as if condensed from pure magic.
Harry looked at Malfoy in front of him and chuckled lightly:
"Boring, truly boring!"
Chapter 99 This is the talisman!
As the smoke gradually dissipated, the small wizards below the arena coughed from the thick dust.
Neville hastily waved his sleeves, trying to disperse the smoke in front of him to see the situation on the stage.
"Cough, cough, cough!"
Neville looked up, his gaze eagerly fixed on the arena, wanting to know Harry's condition.
Harry stood on the stage, facing Malfoy, with a hint of disdain and contempt on his face.
Neville looked at Harry's composed demeanor and couldn't help but feel a shock in his heart.
Those seemingly powerful smokes had not caused Harry any harm!
Harry stood on the stage, full of vigor, as if the whole world was under his control.
His magic robe flapped in the air currents generated by the explosion, adding a touch of heroic spirit.
Ron also stood by, looking at Harry's performance, and nodded approvingly.
That's right, young people should have such arrogance and confidence.
One is not young without being wild!
Harry's performance truly lived up to the effort he had put into teaching him for so long, showing quite a bit of his own style.
On the stage, the atmosphere grew increasingly tense.
Malfoy stared at Harry, his eyes revealing deep unwillingness.
He personally saw the magical shield on Harry's body flashing with dazzling light, like an indestructible barrier, protecting Harry completely.
Malfoy's heart was filled with frustration.
He had almost given his all just now, using every Dark Arts item his father had given him, hoping to defeat Harry.
However, reality cruelly told him that all of it was futile.
Harry still stood there unharmed; all his attacks were but fleeting clouds.
Professor Snape had originally expected to see Harry in a sorry state, but at this moment, a look of surprise appeared on his face as well.
Who would have thought that Harry could be so composed under Malfoy's attack?
Malfoy was affected by the aftershock of the explosion from the magic items he had thrown out, and he fell to the ground. He felt a sharp pain spread throughout his body, as if all his bones were about to fall apart.
This truly was killing a thousand enemies at the cost of eight hundred of one's own.
He struggled to stand up, an unwilling glint in his eyes.
He didn't want to lose the match just like this!
But he had already used all his trump cards; what else could he do to turn the tide?
Malfoy's brain was working rapidly, desperately searching for a possible breakthrough.
Perhaps he could only find loopholes in the rules of the competition.
Malfoy suddenly had an idea. He turned his gaze to Snape and said eagerly:
"Professor, according to the rules of the competition, we can indeed bring our own magic items, but the rules also clearly state that magic items cannot be too powerful, so as not to disrupt the fairness of the competition. Look at Harry's magic shield; it's practically indestructible, which clearly exceeds the scope allowed by the rules!"
As Malfoy said this, he was actually playing a trick in his mind, betting on Snape's favoritism towards him.
After all, as the Dean of Slytherin, Snape would always show some care for his students.
Snape listened to Malfoy's words, his brows slightly furrowed.
He thought to himself: This kid's Dark Arts items aren't exactly weak either, and now he's actually biting back, saying Harry's magic item is too strong. However, since I am the Dean of Slytherin, I should at least save some face for my student.
Clearly, Malfoy had gambled correctly this time.
Snape cleared his throat and slowly spoke:
"Potter, your magic shield is indeed excessively powerful, and this does violate the rules of the competition."
As soon as these words were spoken, a chorus of boos immediately erupted from below the stage.
Many students knew that Snape's favoritism as the Dean of Slytherin was an open secret.
But they could do nothing about it; after all, Snape was a Professor, and his words carried weight.
Snape glanced at the audience below, and the entire venue instantly fell silent, the students daring not to speak their anger.
He nodded with satisfaction in his heart, feeling that his authority had been upheld.
Malfoy, on the other hand, secretly rejoiced, feeling that he had narrowly escaped this time.
Harry maintained his calm and composed demeanor, and he responded unhurriedly:
"Professor Snape, I remember that there is indeed a rule that explicitly states that self-created magicitems are not restricted. Therefore, this magic shield I am using is precisely something I created myself."
When Malfoy heard Harry's words, he immediately became exasperated and quickly retorted:
"Stop talking big here, Harry! How could a mere youngster like you invent such a powerful magic item? This is simply a fantasy!"
Snape nodded slightly, his brows tightly furrowed, seemingly pondering whether Harry's words were true.
After a while, he also slowly spoke, with a hint of doubt in his tone:
"Potter, are you sure this magic shield was created by you? This is no small matter; you need to provide evidence."
As Snape's words fell, murmurs also began to rise from below the stage.
"That's right, how could Harry have invented such a powerful magic item?"
"Maybe it really is an heirloom left by his parents; such an item certainly can't be considered his own invention."
"If Harry also violated the rules, then this match would be meaningless, at most a draw."
Listening to the surrounding discussions, Ron and the others, however, seemed nonchalant.
They had long anticipated such doubts, and this was precisely the effect they wanted.
Next, it was Harry's turn to showcase his strength and use facts to silence everyone.
Harry unhurriedly pulled out a few talismans from his pocket, his gaze firm and confident.
He took a deep breath and slowly spoke:
"These are the talismans I personally created, named 'Qi Shield Technique'. It has the ability to resist most damage, and this talisman is not a secret. You can verify it with the Weasley brothers—Georgeand Fred. They sell them in their shop for 2 Galleons each."
Saying that, Harry gently tossed a talisman towards Snape.
Snape took the talisman and examined it with a puzzled expression.
He checked it repeatedly, then tried to activate the talisman, and a magic shield instantly appeared around him.
When Snape stopped activating it, the shield also disappeared.
Snape frowned and asked doubtfully, "Who can prove that this talisman was indeed invented by Harry?"
At this moment, Fred Weasley stepped forward, cleared his throat, and said loudly:
"That's right, Harry is absolutely correct! This 'Qi Shield Technique' talisman can indeed be bought at our Weasley Black Gold shop. Everyone is welcome to come and purchase, and support Harry's creativity!"
Fred finally understood Ron's previous intention at this moment.
It turned out that as long as Harry demonstrated the power of this talisman on stage, it would pique everyone's interest and desire to buy.
Although Snape was somewhat displeased with Fred, in the face of the facts before him, he could only admit:
"Since that is the case, then the winner of this match is Harry!"
As Snape's words fell, a tsunami of applause erupted from below the stage!
Chapter 100 Intermission
"How was it, Malfoy? Are you satisfied with my performance? Do you concede?"
Harry grinned at Malfoy, a smug smile playing on his lips, his tone full of playful taunting.
Malfoy glared at Harry, his face a little grim, but he didn't lash out. He just snorted coldly: "Hmph, next match, we'll have a proper showdown!"
With that, he turned and strode off the stage, secretly vowing to get his revenge next time.
Harry watched Malfoy's retreating back, a sense of triumph swelling within him.
He had originally intended to make a similarly grand exit, but then he remembered Ron's earlier advice and decided to seize the opportunity to promote his talismans.
He cleared his throat, raised the talisman in his hand, and announced loudly to the crowd:
"Classmates, if any of you are interested in this talisman, you can find George and Fred to purchase it. Mention my name, and you might even get a discount!"
After speaking, Harry calmly walked off the stage.
Snape, though looking displeased, didn't say much, as Harry hadn't violated any rules.
As soon as Harry stepped down, the other small wizards immediately swarmed around him.
They excitedly chatted, filled with curiosity and longing for the talisman in Harry's hand.
"Harry, I want to buy one to try too, but 2 Galleons is a bit expensive!" one small Wizard said hesitantly.
"Haha, well, the price is certainly worth it!" another small Wizard laughed dismissively. "If you think it's too expensive, then I'll buy 10 to test the waters. Of course, if it sells well later, then pretend I didn't say anything."
"Your talisman is indeed powerful, but the price does make one hesitate," another small Wizard sighed.
Harry listened to their discussions, secretly pleased.
No matter what, his talismans had already attracted everyone's attention and admiration.
Harry smiled, "Everyone, don't rush. If you have any questions, go find the Weasley Twins first. I'm just a talisman drawer, not a talisman seller."
Snape watched the small wizards below, their laughter and lively conversations only deepening his mood.
His brows were tightly furrowed, his face grim, clearly extremely displeased with their relaxed atmosphere.
He spoke in a low voice:
"Twenty-minute intermission. When I return, I expect no more chattering." His words conveyed clear authority and displeasure.
With that, Snape waved his black robe and turned to leave the Great Hall.
He let out a soft hmph as he left, seemingly expressing his dissatisfaction with the small wizards.
Malfoy, on the other hand, also seemed quite unhappy.
He planned to go to the infirmary first to check on his several henchmen, as they were all injured.
After seeing Snape leave, the small wizards seemed even more relaxed. They all gathered around the Weasley Twins and began discussing the price of the talismans animatedly.
Ron, meanwhile, picked up a cup of tea, sat on a nearby chair, and silently observed everything.
He exhaled, secretly congratulating himself:
Finally, my business plan has begun. From now on, I won't need to act personally; everything will unfold naturally.
Money will flow into his pockets like water, and when the time is right, that will be Lord Voldemort's end!
The small wizards over there were still enthusiastically discussing, and even the usually composed Percy had curiously come over to watch.
"Fred, your price is outrageous! 2 Galleons for one talisman, that's practically robbery!" one small Wizard couldn't help but complain.
"Yeah, yeah! A wand is only 7 Galleons, and one of your talismans costs 2 Galleons? That's too expensive!" another small Wizard echoed.
Fred smiled and explained:
"There's a reason for the high price. Look at Harry just now in the arena; if he didn't have this talisman, how could he have so easily defeated his opponent? This talisman is a lifesaver at critical moments!"
George added:
"And all our talismans are made by genuine White Wizards, so the quality is guaranteed. Malfoy's Dark Arts items, while they seem powerful, also carry great risks when used. Our talismans are both safe and practical, absolutely worth the price!"
A small Wizard asked curiously:
"Besides the 'Qi Shield Technique,' what other talismans do you have?"
Fred grinned proudly:
"Of course we do! We also have the 'Fireball Spell,' only 1 Galleon each. And an even more powerful 'Great Fireball Technique,' 5 Galleons each, and its effect can last for 5 to 8 uses! Buy one, and you won't have to fear losing the upcoming arena matches!"
A small Wizard hesitated for a moment and said:
"The 'Fireball Spell' price is acceptable. I'll buy one to try."
"I want to buy the cheapest talisman too!"
"I'll take one too!"
A senior student thought for a while and said:
"I'll take a 'Qi Shield Technique.' I feel like it could be useful in the arena."
Fred and George happily said:
"Don't rush, don't rush, everyone take your time! We have a wide variety of talismans here; there's always one that suits you!"
Watching their busy figures and the steadily increasing amount of Galleons, both their faces were beaming with satisfied smiles.
No matter what, they had finally made some money! And judging by this momentum, business would only get better from now on!
Ron sat on a nearby chair, sipping hot tea, and leisurely said:
"Dean, Seamus, Neville, you guys go help out too. Harry, come sit here; let's chat for a bit."
Dean and the others immediately responded to Ron's command and walked over to the Weasley Twinsto assist them with the talisman sales.
Harry walked to the chair next to Ron and sat down, and the two began to converse.
Ron lightly tapped the table, his eyes sparkling: "Harry, I told you, as long as you spend time making talismans, they will definitely sell well!"
Harry also responded with a smile: "Yes, Ron, this time Malfoy finally got a taste of defeat. He used to be so arrogant, and now he's finally my defeated opponent."
Ron smiled: "Harry, which talisman do you think sells well?"
Harry pondered for a moment: "It should be the 'Fireball Spell,' after all, it's cheap."
Ron shook his head: "Look, those who buy the 'Fireball Spell.' Which age group is more prevalent?"
Harry looked for a while and said: "They're all below fourth year, right?"
Ron smiled: "Exactly, only the lower grades focus on offense, while the higher grades care about defense. The competition has just begun; don't rush."
Ron stood up, leaving Harry still in a daze.
Harry didn't quite understand what Ron was saying, but he just had to trust him, and everything would be fine.