A blacksmith must forge its own tools. Relying on others for protection isn't sustainable—especially not for Cassandra and the others. They had no intention of remaining helpless under someone else's shield.
So, over the next few days, Blake dedicated himself to training them. He considered inviting friends like Fleur Delacour and Cho Chang to join their practice sessions, but due to "force majeure," he postponed that idea. For now, his focus was entirely on Cassandra, Hermione, Luna, and Nagini.
Thanks to Blake's attentive coaching, the girls' dueling skills improved noticeably. Yet Blake remained uneasy. He had seen true dark magic—what real danger looked like—and knew they weren't ready.
That unease prompted a change in his approach.
In late July, Blake returned to the private training island Newt had lent them. Cassandra was hard at work, casting his enhanced weather spell. Her target, already torn to shreds, proved she'd made impressive progress. Hermione sat nearby reading, having finished her summer homework a week early. Luna, meanwhile, wasn't practicing or studying. Instead, she cheerfully fed Porgy the Niffler and the Bowtruckle.
Nagini, recently returned, was also present. Although her strength was already impressive, Blake had something new to teach—something even she might find useful.
"Bah bang bang!" Blake clapped his hands to gather their attention. Cassandra, drenched in sweat, turned to him.
"You're late today," she said.
"Yeah… I needed time to prepare a few things." Blake placed a small cloth bag on the table nearby. "Let's get started."
"You said yesterday you'd teach us a new spell today," Cassandra said, eyes lighting up. "And you wouldn't say what it was—so, what is it?"
Blake smiled. "This one's different. Up to now, I've taught you offensive spells. You've grasped most of them—it's just a matter of practice now. But today's spell isn't for attack. It's to save your life."
Four pairs of eyes locked on him.
"The Iron Armor Curse?" Cassandra guessed.
Blake shook his head. "No. That spell isn't good enough for what I'm about to show you. Plus, I wouldn't need all these preparations if that were the case."
He continued, "Not long ago, I had an… enlightening exchange with a rather 'amiable' vampire. From him, I learned a unique spell—one that lets you evade most magical attacks. Even the Killing Curse can be dodged."
Gasps followed.
"But it's not perfect," Blake warned. "It doesn't protect against extremely high temperatures—like Fiendfyre. If you run into that, don't be a hero. Just run."
Turning to a charred practice dummy, Blake gestured to Cassandra. "Hit me with your weather spell."
Cassandra hesitated. "But… my lightning is hot too—"
Blake waved her off. "It's nothing compared to Fiendfyre. Trust me."
Still unsure, Cassandra raised her wand. Thunderclouds formed instantly overhead.
"CRACK!"
A bolt of lightning as thick as a bowl slammed toward Blake—
—and passed right through him.
His form shimmered translucent for a moment as the lightning sailed harmlessly through his chest and struck the dummy behind him.
Cassandra's jaw dropped. "How… how did you do that?"
[Ding! Four shock waves detected!
Ding! Congratulations to the host for getting two golden treasure chests!
Ding! Congratulations to the host for getting two silver treasure chests!]
Smiling at the system's chimes, Blake said, "That's the spell I'm teaching you. It lets your body become temporarily intangible. Unless it's intense heat-based magic, you can avoid almost anything."
Hermione leaned forward, fascinated. "What's it called? Did the vampire say where it came from? A magic book?"
"No idea. He said it was passed down through his family." Blake shrugged. The truth? He'd stolen the spell using the Ruyi Wand and didn't even know the vampire's name.
Hermione sighed. "A spell like that… I'd love to see the book it came from."
"We'll call it the Hidden Mist Curse," Blake said.
"Misty Curse?" Hermione raised an eyebrow. "That sounds made up."
"Maybe. But don't worry about the name—focus on the technique."
Blake explained the spell in detail, then had the girls begin practice. The Mist Hidden Curse was high-level, even with the Ruyi Wand's help.
Cassandra and Hermione, though talented, took two full hours to produce even a momentary misted form—and it lasted only a second.
Luna hadn't succeeded yet, but Blake sensed she was close.
Nagini, unsurprisingly, had mastered it an hour ago—then prepared lunch for everyone. Her skill didn't surprise Blake. After all, she wasn't a typical witch—she was a magical serpent.
Cassandra and Hermione, unaware of Nagini's background, were visibly annoyed. Blake, however, thought their frustration was a good motivator.
Luna, in contrast, remained entirely unbothered. She munched lunch contentedly, her wand tucked behind her ear.
Blake finally called a break. "Magic like this takes time. Let's eat. After lunch, I'll teach you an escape spell—much easier than the Mist Curse."
Later, standing at the center of the field, Blake raised his hand and drew a glowing circle in the air. A portal sparked open, showing the interior of his room.
"Is this… your teleportation magic?" Hermione asked.
"Exactly," Blake confirmed. "When it comes to escaping, nothing beats this."
This was supreme magic—a power tied to the crack in space within Blake's consciousness. Strictly speaking, it shouldn't be used repeatedly. But Cassandra and the others could tap into it freely, so long as Blake allowed it.
He was the source. The Wi-Fi hotspot. As long as they stayed connected to him, they could use supreme magic. If he ever severed that link, the power would vanish.
"Before you learn this," Blake said, "I need to explain where this magic comes from."
He told them everything: otherworldly origins, the space crack, the concept of gods.
The girls, stunned, offered up all their daily treasure chest chances just to process the strangeness.
After sipping honey water and letting them digest it all, Blake was caught off-guard by Cassandra's next question.
"You're saying… is it possible you're from another world too?"
"Pfft!" Blake choked, spraying honey water—and soaking poor Dabao, who was eating cake on the table.
"Zhizhizhi!!!" Dabao squeaked angrily, scolding his cheapskate boss for getting him wet.
Blake pressed Dabao down and blinked at Cassandra. "I… don't think so?"
She was eerily close to the truth, but Blake wasn't ready to admit anything.
"Why not?" Cassandra continued, but Hermione jumped in.
"That's ridiculous," she said. "Just because he knows otherworldly magic doesn't mean he's from another world. Blake grew up in an orphanage—how would that make sense?"
Hermione didn't know about soul transmigration, of course…
Blake coughed. "Ahem. Let's not speculate. Let's get started."
If he didn't stop them, they'd start guessing the color of his underwear next.
As the girls quieted, Blake handed Dabao some Galleons to shoo him away, then returned to the small cloth bag from earlier. He upended it on the table.
Inside were several uniquely shaped rings.
"These are hanging rings," Blake said. "I made them this morning in a rush. You'll need them when you start learning supreme magic."
Blake didn't need them himself anymore—but the girls would.
"Alright, gather around," he said.
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