Robert held his breath as he looked at the sprouting Guardian Tree seed in his hand.
Transplanting the Guardian Tree seed from the Potion directly into soil was the most challenging step. But once it succeeded, the subsequent cultivation process would be far easier. Even without watering it with the Holy Tree Magic Potion, if lucky, the Guardian Tree could still mature—its growth would just be less ideal.
Although Robert had never actually performed this final step before, he had simulated the entire process in his mind countless times. Every precaution, every small detail, surfaced sharply in his thoughts.
The thrill he had felt earlier, when his Lumos and night vision abilities had been upgraded to Platinum Level, had completely faded. All that remained was an ice-like clarity. Time seemed to slow. Robert entered a flow state again.
All distractions fell away. Nothing mattered now except the Guardian Tree seed he had poured endless effort into nurturing.
Click.
The Extinguisher activated. All surrounding light—no matter how faint—was sucked into it, plunging the area into absolute darkness. But Robert, with his new Platinum night vision ability, was unbothered. In fact, he was in his element.
The world before him was sharper and clearer than ever. He could even see the subtle magic light points emanating from the Guardian Tree seed, glowing with a sacred aura.
Robert gently lowered his head into a transparent water tank. The water enhancement took effect instantly. On his system panel, a golden glow shimmered alongside the silver luster of the "Magic Perception Enhancement" line. His Magic Perception ticked up once more.
The Magic inside the Guardian Tree seed became exceptionally clear.
Without hesitation, Robert moved into action.
He lightly tapped the reagent bottle with the tip of his wand. His Magic vibrated through the liquid, awakening the dormant Guardian Tree seed sealed within.
This step was reminiscent of earlier stages in handling the seed but far more intricate. Now, Robert's own Magic, the sacred Magic of the seed, and the Potion's Magic interwove in complex harmony. Through his enhanced perception, he could see the three different magical essences intertwining in a delicate dance.
He had to slowly dispel the Potion's Magic without disturbing the balance between the seed's sacred Magic and his own. It was a razor-thin edge he had to walk.
The upgrade to his night vision proved crucial. Without it, his Magic Perception wouldn't have been nearly enough to manage this level of intricacy.
Despite the boost, Robert was anything but relaxed.
Every wand tap increased the complexity of the magical web.
He had to monitor every micro-shift, every ripple of energy, with unwavering focus. Each flick of his wand was both calculated and exhausting. Fine beads of sweat soon dotted his forehead.
And this was only the beginning.
As minutes ticked by, the Magic within the Guardian Tree seed became more and more unstable. Each action required more effort than the last. Robert's temples throbbed, his mental reserves dwindling rapidly.
He hadn't felt this mentally exhausted in years.
Finally, when he sensed that the magical balance was reaching its most harmonious state, Robert seized the opportunity. With one more precise wand tap, he reached into the Potion and touched the seed.
Its roots were now alive with sacred vitality.
There was no hesitation left in Robert. He aimed his wand at the test plot ahead. The Soil Loosening Spell flowed out from him effortlessly, the result of countless drills and repetitions—even while fighting through a splitting headache.
The soil churned.
Robert gently placed the Guardian Tree seed into the earth, watching it become covered as the soil settled over it.
His spirit was stretched to its absolute limit.
Had it worked?
Had he failed?
A moment passed.
Then—ping—a soft golden light glimmered over the soil. A system prompt appeared before Robert's eyes.
"You have successfully planted the Guardian Tree." "Reward: Defense Against the Dark Arts Comprehension Enhancement (Bronze Level)." "Upon maturity: Upgrades to Defense Against the Dark Arts Comprehension Enhancement (Silver Level) + Minor Dark Arts Resistance (Iron Level)."
The tension in his chest released. He had succeeded.
The planting was done. Now, he only needed to brew the Holy Tree Magic Potion and water the seed regularly. After some time, the Guardian Tree would mature.
A deep sense of accomplishment filled Robert's heart.
He had once planted the elber tree, which offered higher-tier rewards, and also managed the Piranha Algae, but those had relied on system perks—not his own Herbology knowledge.
This success was different. It marked a genuine milestone in his Herbology journey.
By the end of the school year, the Guardian Tree would mature, and Robert would harvest the rewards. His Defense Against the Dark Arts comprehension would improve, along with his resistance to Dark Magic.
"Heh…"
"Hahahahaha—"
A laugh burst from Robert, filled with joy.
But it lasted only a few seconds. Exhaustion took over. His laughter faded into rhythmic breathing. He had drained himself completely.
Too tired to move, Robert fell asleep where he stood—in the Greenhouse.
The moonlight bathed the glass roof in a silvery glow.
Soon, a figure rushed into the Greenhouse.
It was Professor Sprout.
She had come to collect herbs to treat the scabs on Professor Quirrell's body. Only certain plants could heal injuries caused by the Giant Devil's Snare, and nighttime was the optimal time for brewing such potions.
Opening the door, she saw Robert standing still in the test plot.
A look of alarm flashed across her face.
"This child—still working at this hour?"
She quickly approached him.
"Robert," she said gently. "Don't stay here. You need to rest."
But Robert didn't respond.
When she touched him lightly, he collapsed forward—right into the test plot.
Professor Sprout gasped.
But a moment later, she heard his soft snores and breathed a sigh of relief.
"How did he push himself this far?" she muttered.
Even she, a lifelong Herbology expert, had never seen Robert this exhausted.
Curious, she examined the area where he had worked.
The instant her magic senses brushed the plot, her eyes widened.
The sacred Magic brewing beneath the soil astonished her.
"This is—?!"
She stood frozen, speechless.
Then emotion overwhelmed her.
A tearful, joyful sound escaped her lips.
"The Sprout family…"
"We have an heir."
"My Robert… truly has the potential for greatness."
She gently moved him to the lounge inside the Greenhouse, wiping the dirt from his cheeks.
As for Quirrell?
"He'll have to wait."
"He can suffer a little. I won't leave Robert like this."
Meanwhile, in the Medical Ward, Quirrell was enduring another kind of suffering—itching, burning pain from Biting Cabbage wounds and the Giant Devil's Snare.
In his mind, he cautiously reported his progress to Lord Voldemort.
Voldemort's voice cut through like a blade.
"You've failed to pass the first hurdle guarding the Philosopher's Stone?" "And today, tricked by Weasley twins? Pathetic."
Quirrell trembled.
"Master," he pleaded, "I've found a solution. That boy Robert Sprout—he must have half-Giant blood. I can use him to deal with Cerberus."
Voldemort grunted at the mention of half-Giants.
"Another Hagrid… Filthy bloodline. But useful."
He didn't reject the plan. Half-Giants were easy to manipulate. Even Voldemort knew that.
Quirrell felt relieved… until the pain kicked in again.
He grit his teeth, resisting the urge to scratch.
Especially not his head—where Voldemort resided.
"Why is Sprout so slow?" he groaned. "The treatment time is passing!"
Outside, Snape, grimacing at the stench from the ward, frowned deeply.
"Pomona must've been delayed."
He left to prepare the potion himself.
Back in the Greenhouse, he found Professor Sprout fussing over Robert.
"Pomona," he said irritably, "That's not the herb we need. Quirrell's treatment window is closing. You know what Dumbledore wants."
But Sprout beamed.
"Severus, Robert made a breakthrough. He passed out from mental strain. I was going to brew a recovery potion for him. Help me?"
Snape paused, surprised.
He glanced at Robert, pale and sleeping soundly.
A flicker of emotion passed over his face.
He remembered how Robert had once cut his finger to heal his Cerberus wound.
Thinking of Quirrell's whining, Snape sighed.
"Let him suffer."
"I'll help with the recovery potion."
Meanwhile, in the ward, the hours dragged on.
Quirrell's itch grew unbearable.
He waited. And waited.
But no one came.
"Didn't they say they'd be back soon?!"
In despair, he appealed to Voldemort again.
"Master—please help me…"
Voldemort's voice returned, oddly gentle.
"It's Dumbledore's test." "If I act, he'll notice." "Endure it, Quirrell." "Oh, I'm going to sleep now. You'll bear my pain too."
Then silence.
Quirrell stared at the ceiling.
"???"
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