As the final syllable of the incantation left his lips, a ribbon of pure darkness erupted from the tip of Char's wand. It hit the ground and coalesced, forming into a massive black viper, over three meters long. The snake hissed, its forked tongue flicking through the air as it reared up, coiling into a ready, aggressive stance.
At that exact moment, on his system panel, the words [Serpensortia] solidified completely. But it was different from when he usually learned a new spell. Instead of the dull luster of the Iron level, a distinct bronze light already covered a significant portion of the skill, placing it right on the cusp of a breakthrough.
A look of deep satisfaction spread across Char's face. "The improvement in my Transfiguration skill has definitely made learning new spells much easier," he mused. "This is the effect with just Iron-level Transfiguration. When I reach a higher level, maybe any new spell I learn will start at the Platinum level!"
His thoughts quickly returned to the matter at hand. He waved his wand again, and the black viper dissolved into a puff of smoke, vanishing into nothingness. Throughout the entire process, Char's focus was absolute, his senses straining to capture every minute detail. When the last wisp of smoke dissipated, a look of pure, unadulterated shock flashed across his face.
"Incredible," he whispered. "Simply amazing. This single spell contains a complete, self-contained transfiguration cycle. From nothingness into smoke, from smoke into a serpent, and from a serpent back into smoke and nothingness. The key is, even without understanding the underlying magical logic, just by reciting the incantation and performing the wand movements, I can execute the entire process."
He compared it to a computer program. He didn't need to understand the complex code; he just had to double-click the icon, and it would run. "It looks simple, but the technology behind it is incredibly advanced. The wizard who created this must have been a true master of Transfiguration."
Taking a deep, excited breath, he glanced at his own Transfiguration skill. It was still at the Iron level, but the bronze luster now covered most of it. He had a feeling that if he could just understand the core principles of the Snake-Summoning Charm, even just a fraction of them, he could easily push his Transfiguration skill to the Bronze level.
He began to practice again. Smoke exploded from his wand, and the hissing of serpents filled the small greenhouse. Char concentrated, feeling the intricate changes in the magic, the way the disordered power twisted and morphed in ways he couldn't yet comprehend, first becoming smoke, then condensing into a living creature. The sophistication of it left him dumbfounded.
After a long while, he finally came back to his senses, a bitter smile on his face. The complexity was staggering. To fully understand it all at once would be a monumental project. But a moment later, his expression calmed. He wouldn't try to master it all at once. He would break it down, piece by piece.
His focus returned, sharp and clear. "I'll begin with the smallest details. How are the venomous snake's scales formed? I'll just chew on it slowly, one bite at a time."
The sound of hissing snakes and exploding smoke once again echoed through the small greenhouse.
At that same time, at the end of the fourth-floor corridor, a hooded figure rushed through the trapdoor without a moment's hesitation. He landed in a room almost completely filled by a monstrous, three-headed dog. A hot, fishy wind blew in his face as the beast let out a low, menacing growl.
Quirrell stared at Fluffy, his palms sweating. This monster was a walking fortress of thick skin and immense strength, capable of tearing a troll to pieces. Worse, its defense against magic was ridiculously high. Ordinary spells couldn't even scratch its hide, and even the Killing Curse had little effect. A fire-breathing dragon would have been an easier obstacle.
He had suffered at the hands of this beast before. Now, he just had to hope the method he'd wheedled out of Hagrid would actually work.
As the three-headed dog lunged, Quirrell waved his wand. A violin appeared in mid-air, its bow beginning to move on its own, drawing a sweet, melodious tune from the strings. The effect was immediate. The massive dog's movements became slow and drowsy. In less than a minute, it was completely overcome by sleepiness, collapsing to the floor in a deep slumber.
Quirrell's heart began to pound violently. He kept the violin playing as he quickened his pace, rushing through the door the dog had been guarding. The Philosopher's Stone is within my grasp! Without the three-headed dog, what's left to stop me? Devil's Snare? One minute. In one minute, I can wipe these things out completely!
He stepped through the door and into a chamber of pure darkness, filled with writhing, entangling shadows.
"Just Devil's Snare," he sneered. "Get out of my way!"
A ball of fire erupted from his wand, sweeping into the darkness and enveloping the writhing vines. But the next moment, something completely unexpected happened. The Devil's Snare, which should have recoiled in terror from the flames, didn't react at all. In fact, it seemed irritated. The dense vines whipped toward him with furious speed.
Quirrell looked on, horrified. He quickly cast a shield charm, blocking the assault just in time. His mind raced. How can Devil's Snare be fireproof? He noticed a peculiar smell in the air. Lava grass juice! Damn it, they coated the vines! Why didn't he tell me that?!
The plant's greatest weakness had been nullified, increasing the difficulty of this obstacle tenfold. Still, he thought, the plant's main method of attack was strangulation. A simple lashing, while frightening, had limited power. He could withstand it and push through.
But as the vines slammed against his shield, a powerful force erupted, and the protective spell he had cast with all his might began to flicker and fail. His expression changed from annoyance to pure, unadulterated shock. This strength… is this a damn Devil's Snare?!
He finally got a closer look. The vines weren't just coated in juice; they had a strange, metallic luster, as if they were made of flexible steel. They were thicker, more aggressive, and far stronger than any Devil's Snare he had ever encountered. A guess that filled him with rage and terror flashed through his mind.
"Damn it all! This is a mutated subspecies! A breed cultivated for enhanced aggression!" His eyes were practically popping out of his head. This was not what he had expected. The rest of the obstacles weren't supposed to be this difficult! If they had all been upgraded like this, his plan was a complete failure.
He couldn't help but roar in anger. Even Voldemort's voice hissed in his mind. "Dumbledore! It must have been him! That old fool who plays with people's hearts! Give me the chance, and I will dig up his grave!"
At that moment, the Devil's Snare surged forward, its vines no longer just lashing out, but coiling to entangle and crush him. His shield, already faltering, collapsed completely. If he hadn't reacted instantly, he would have been caught, and the outcome would not have been simple suffocation. His bones would have been ground to dust.
He cast another shield, but it lasted less than a second. His face was pale. "Master!" he screamed in his mind.
Voldemort's magic flooded into his wand. A wave of dark flame erupted, forming a wall of fire that blocked the oncoming vines. Seizing the opportunity, Quirrell fled, scrambling back through the trapdoor and out into the cold night air. The wind did nothing to extinguish the fire of his fury.
"I went through so much trouble to find a unicorn, drank its blood, and for what? All the strength I worked so hard to regain has been completely wasted!" His heart bled with the loss. He had risked everything and gained nothing but a cursed life.
He took several deep breaths, forcing himself to calm down. No, I have gained something. I now know just how insidious that old man Dumbledore is. None of those levels are easy. The memory of the mutated Devil's Snare made him shudder. He would have to find its weakness. He felt the exhaustion and weakness surging back into his body. He had to find another unicorn. He had to be fully prepared. The next attempt had to be a success.
He shook his head, dispelling the dizziness, and turned back toward the Forbidden Forest.
At the same time, Char's own mind was spinning, a tired, throbbing pain pulsing at his temples. He sat on the ground, rubbing his head. He had cast the Snake-Summoning Charm hundreds of times, even pushing its proficiency to the Bronze level, but he had made no real progress in understanding its fundamental nature. He had focused so intently on the microscopic changes in the magic that the world in front of him had seemed about to dissolve into a blur of smoke.
He finally let out a long breath, his senses returning to normal. "This is too complicated. It's unrealistic to try and figure it all out in one go. I have to take it step by step."
His eyes turned to the fields of his small greenhouse. "Time to take care of the plants and clear my head."
He walked over to the Devil's Snare and let out a soft cry of surprise. The first batch he had planted, the ones he had cut with his Shadowless Curse, had finally grown new branches. A look of pure delight spread across his face.
"New branches," he whispered. "This means the secondary node has appeared. It can be processed further." He examined the new growth. It was covered with a black, metallic luster. He touched it and felt an incredible texture, like flexible steel.
His eyes lit up. "Every time a new branch grows, it's stronger than the last. The mutation induced by the Shadowless Curse makes this even more pronounced. These new branches are like steel. This means… its effect on practicing the Shadowless Curse will be much stronger than before!"
He looked at his system panel. His Silver-level [Sectumsempra] was his most powerful spell, but its progress had been slow since he'd achieved the Silver level over the holiday. He was still more than halfway from the Gold-level node. He had estimated it would take longer than his three-week confinement to reach it. But now… with these new, tougher branches to practice on, perhaps he could reach the Gold level before his detention was over.
The thought eased the sense of crisis that had been lingering in his heart. He already felt the plot of the world changing around him, and a part of him had been anxious. But seeing this new path to power, the anxiety washed away. His heart finally settled. There was no point in worrying about the future. He would farm, he would build his strength, and with enough power, he could face whatever came.
He smiled and focused on the new branches. "Sectumsempra!"
This time, there was no feeling of a hot knife slicing through butter. The spell hit the new branch and felt like it had struck resilient steel, leaving only a shallow wound that healed in the blink of an eye. Char's eyes widened. He had thought the plant's strength when it attacked Porgy was its final form. He had been too conservative. This was its true, mutated power. The toughness was on a completely different level.
This also meant that dealing with the later cultivation nodes would be significantly harder. But as his brow furrowed in thought, his eyes fell back to his system panel. The silver luster on the [Sectumsempra] skill was visibly brighter than before. The increase was even greater than he had expected.
His eyes began to burn with an eager fire. "At this rate… Gold level is not too far away!"
He began to cast again, and again, the invisible blades of the Shadowless Curse falling tirelessly on the resilient vines, the silver luster of the spell growing more and more intense.
Before he knew it, dawn was breaking.
Quirrell, his face pale and gloomy, quietly returned to the castle. He had found no new unicorn. He had no new plan. Everything was terrible. But as he was walking through a corridor, he overheard some students discussing the events of the previous day.
"Have you heard? A so-called master from the review board was knocked unconscious in Char's greenhouse. They say it was some kind of mutated Devil's Snare that Char bred himself."
"Professor Snape said Char's talent in herbology is incredible!"
Quirrell's steps suddenly stopped. Finally, some good news. He had assumed Professor Sprout had bred the plant. But it was the boy's doing? He took a deep breath, a look of surprise and dawning hope in his eyes. Getting information from Professor Sprout would be impossible. But a young wizard, a first-year? How cunning could he be? Getting the plant's weakness from Char would be much easier.
His eyes narrowed. "And he just happens to be in detention. Three weeks of confinement. Everyone knows how difficult that is for a young wizard. He must be miserable. Angry. Perhaps he's even crying, desperate to escape."
A slow, cruel smile played on Quirrell's lips. Under Voldemort's influence, his own skills in Legilimency and manipulation had grown. He felt as if he already had the boy in the palm of his hand.
"I'll wait," he thought. "Wait until his discontent reaches its peak. Then, it will be my chance."
Time flew. In the blink of an eye, three days had passed.