Ancient Wizards Return to Hogwarts...

Chapter 460 Death is a Gift

The second dragon roar was only half-sung before it abruptly stopped.

With a grim face, Rice unleashed a powerful attack spell that struck the dragonman's throat precisely, silencing his roar.

The next second, dark red blood gushed out from the gaps between every scale on the dragon's body.

Helga and Rowena, watching Rice's expression on stage, both changed color.

"How dare this guy?" Helga felt like she was about to unleash a torrent of profanity.

That idiot is finished. And things have gotten this far, it's probably going to be very difficult to control. Salazar is completely enraged, and even she and Rowena aren't confident they can calm him down.

Rowena, however, remained completely unfazed. She simply stood there with her arms crossed, as if she were a spectator.

Seeing this, Helga couldn't help but nudge her best friend on the shoulder.

"Royna, use your brain and think of a solution!"

Rowena gave Helga a strange look.

"What method are you thinking of?"

"We can't just watch him kill that child, can we? Murder is illegal in the modern magical world!" Helga said in a low voice, speaking rapidly.

She was a little worried that Salazar might kill Jack on the spot and attract the attention of the Ministry of Magic. It was obvious to her that expecting Salazar to obey the law and go to Azkaban was like hoping the sun would rise in the west.

Salazar's trip to Azkaban could only mean two things: he was interested in the Dementors of Azkaban, or he needed the prisoners of Azkaban as experimental subjects.

In short, once things reach that point, the impact on their plans will be enormous. The identity of "Rice Lint" will definitely be unusable, subsequent matches will be affected, and it may even damage Hogwarts' reputation.

Rowena looked at Helga with even more strange eyes.

"Why do you think that monster will die?" Rowena glanced disdainfully at the dragon-man on the dueling platform, who had become like a small fountain. Paying such a high price for such a small improvement seemed like a terrible loss. However, for modern wizards, this was already a potion beyond imagination.

"Salazar isn't that kind." After mentally criticizing Jack a couple of times, Rowena continued to express her opinion.

"Kindness?" Helga was taken aback for a moment before she realized what she meant.

Indeed, Jack has offended Salazar too much; Salazar certainly won't let him off easily.

For Jack, death was a relief.

The dragon-man on the stage became extremely ferocious. He opened his mouth, but only made a few hissing sounds like a balloon deflating—Rice's spell pierced the scales on his skin and shattered his vocal cords.

"Abandoning the identity of a wizard, willingly degenerating into a beast, ha!" Rice looked at the dragonman in front of him, his eyes devoid of any emotion, as if he were looking at a lump of raw meat.

Upon hearing Rice's voice, the dragonman's eyes darted around, and he stared intently at Rice, veins bulging on his face, clearly having been somewhat taken aback by what Rice had said.

The muscles beneath his scales bulged, clearly gathering strength. Even more astonishingly, perhaps due to intense stimulation, two large bulges appeared on Jack's back, and with a piercing tearing sound, a pair of bloody wings sprouted from his back.

At this point, Jack's appearance had changed drastically. He now looked more like a dragon than a human.

"Resistance is futile." Faced with Jack, who looked increasingly frightening, Rice shook his head, completely unconcerned.

The water vapor in the air, combined with the blood that had just burst out of Jack's body, quickly condensed into thin, cicada-wing-like blades, which, under Rice's control, slicing towards Jack.

Jack tried to dodge, but with the help of Rice's magic, the blades were much faster and more agile than him. So, Jack didn't dodge a single one of the hundreds of blades; they all hit him squarely.

The blade formed from congealed blood is extremely sharp, but it is not known for its impact force. Therefore, Lester deliberately changed the angle so that the blood blade did not pierce, but rather sliced.

In a single exchange, Jack had hundreds of scales scraped off by Rice, along with much of the skin beneath them, instantly rendering it unable to resist.

Rowena, sitting in the audience, narrowed her eyes. She felt that the scene in front of her looked familiar. Salazar seemed to have borrowed her most proficient attack method, only replacing the wind blade with the blood blade.

Sure enough, after the blood blade swept across, it spun around and returned, scraping off another large amount of scales and flesh from Jack's back.

Jack immediately knelt down, his mouth agape, but no sound came out.

Without hesitation, Rice continued to wave his wand like a conductor, causing the tornadoes formed by the blood-red blades to repeatedly swirl around Jack.

In just two or three seconds, Jack's newly grown wings were reduced to bare bones.

At the same time, Rice pulled a small medicine bottle from his pocket, threw it on the ground, and it shattered into pieces. The spilled liquid formed a short arrow, which shot out with a whoosh and pierced Jack's abdomen.

The onlookers thought it was Rice's attack, but Rowena and Helga could see clearly that it wasn't poison at all, but rather a very good healing potion!

This potion can enhance the body's self-healing ability and keep the mind clear; it is a very precious and complex magical potion.

Salazar's purpose in using this potion on Jack at this moment is obvious.

From the moment Jack dropped his wand to the moment Rice used the healing potion on him, less than half a minute had passed. Most of the audience had no idea what had happened, and Jack had already completely lost his ability to resist.

Rice showed no sign of stopping, the crimson tornadoes repeatedly swirling over Jack's body. By now, all of its scales had been scraped away. Without the protection of its scales, the tornadoes could more efficiently tear away its muscle, and in many places, transparent fascia and bone were visible.

Helga sighed as she looked at Jack, who was no longer recognizable as a human on the stage.

"Hopefully, it won't have any negative impact on Rice." Although she wasn't particularly opposed, Helga still felt that Salazar's methods were a bit too visually shocking, and she wondered if these modern wizards with their high moral standards could accept them.

"How could that be?" Rowena's lips curled into a mocking smile. "Is the modern magical world really that tolerant of alien species?"

She raised her voice for the second half of her sentence, so that everyone watching heard it.

Serafina's face immediately turned awkward.

The magical world has very little tolerance for wizards who can transform into other forms. Jack was already a Parsleyan, and with this new form, Seraphina was certain it would bring him trouble.

The moment Jack chose to transform into a dragon, his wizard label disappeared, replaced by a different kind of label, almost like a werewolf.

His behavior went against the mainstream values ​​of the wizarding world, and even the usually tolerant Ilfamoni found it hard to accept. Although Ilfamoni did not care about bloodlines, he still valued the identity of a "wizard" very much.

Serafina was disgusted by Jack's choice, but watching him die on the dueling platform didn't seem like a good idea. Seeing that Jack had already lost, she cleared her throat, preparing to intervene and end the duel.

Unexpectedly, Rice, who had gained the upper hand and seemed determined to fight to the death, suddenly stopped and even dispelled all the blood blades that Rice had created using "Transformation".

However, whether by coincidence or not, before stopping, several blood blades precisely sliced ​​through dozens of key tendons on Jack's body, causing him to completely lose control of his body and fall uncontrollably to the ground, unable to move even a finger.

Rice even went over to Jack and helped him up himself, showing great kindness.

He pulled out several medicine bottles from his pocket and sprinkled the healing liquid on Jack's battered body. The medicine worked very well; the bleeding from Jack's body stopped immediately—although there wasn't much blood left in his body either. A thin layer of tender flesh covered the wounds, making the "person" look pink and delicate, not so creepy anymore.

This series of friendly moves left even Serafina speechless, and she could only applaud Rice's act of kindness. She never expected that Rice Lint would actually stop fighting and even heal his opponent. This gentle attitude surprised Serafina, and she looked at Rice with new respect.

Dumbledore and the other audience members also applauded.

This scene perfectly aligns with the mainstream values ​​of the magical world.

After taking in everyone's reactions, Rice smiled slightly, while Jack, who had remained lucid, had eyes filled with deep despair and pain.

No one knew what had happened to him; they were even applauding the demon before them!

Yes, in Jack's eyes, Les Lint was an absolute demon. The moment those unknown potions were dripped onto his body, they robbed him of control, paralyzing all his remaining muscles and robbing him of the ability to communicate with the outside world.

The medicine poured on him then made him feel as if he were being bitten by tens of thousands of insects. Combined with the medicine that was initially injected into his body, he became fully aware of all of this.

From the outside, however, Jack appeared to be simply lying quietly in place receiving treatment.

"Go to sleep," Rice whispered to Jack in a gentle tone, while feeding him some medicine.

One of the effects of the newly fed potion is that it temporarily suppresses the effects of the healing potion, causing Jack to faint.

After Jack passed out, Rice fed him several more potions before returning him to Serafina, saying that Jack would recover after resting for a while.

Seraphina didn't want to linger there for even a second. After giving Rice a few perfunctory words, she hurriedly led her students away from the scene. She then entrusted Jack to Madam Pomfrey of Hogwarts.

She was too lazy to bother with this student who had gone astray anymore.

Once she reached the outside of Hogwarts Castle and saw that there were no outsiders around, she stopped and solemnly admonished her students.

"I don't know if any of you had the same extraordinary encounter as Jack in that place. But I want you to remember one thing: you are wizards. Never abandon your original identity in pursuit of power. We are wizards, the most perfect species in the world!"

Under the old headmaster's stern gaze, all the students of Iphamoni nodded, indicating that they would keep the professor's teachings in mind.

At that very moment, an uninvited guest arrived at the dueling arena.

"Professor Gryffindor, you've arrived." Dumbledore smiled kindly at the red-haired man who appeared at the classroom door, while Professor White and Professor Arius silently retreated behind the students and lowered their heads.

Their presence instantly diminished to a minimum.

Godric walked to the dueling platform and stared at the wand in Rice's hand.

"I never thought I'd see this wand again in my lifetime. It brings back so many memories." His gaze swept across Rice's face for a moment before focusing on the wand he was holding.

"Can I have this wand? I really miss my old friend. I'm willing to pay any price," he asked softly.

The classroom fell instantly silent. To the unsuspecting students, Rice seemed to have no reason to refuse; who in the classroom was more suitable to wield that wand than him?

This was the first time Rice had the opportunity to observe the man up close.

Yes, from any angle, he's an impeccable guy.

"I refuse." Rice's voice wasn't loud, but it was loud enough for everyone present to hear clearly.

"This is my wand," Rice said. "I just snatched it back from that monster."

Rice could feel the wand trembling slightly in his palm, as if it were overjoyed to be back in his hand.

Gryffindor laughed.

"You're right, I was too impulsive. I woke up from a hangover to the sound of my old friend's wand reappearing, which threw me off balance. This wand truly belongs to you now." He gave Rice a serious look, left those words, and then departed from the dueling room.

"You and Salazar are very similar. You have his shadow in you."

……

"What did that guy mean by his last words?" In the office, Helga frowned, repeatedly reviewing everything that had just happened in the dueling room.

"He probably smelled a familiar scent on me, which is normal." Rice didn't take his first direct conversation with the imposter to heart. He sat on a stool in the corner of the office, toying with the wand that had been returned to its rightful owner.

"What if he...?" Helga was a little worried that Salazar's identity would be exposed.

"Then how come he still has the courage to stay here?" Rice chuckled.

He wasn't particularly concerned about whether his identity had been exposed by the imposter. There were advantages to not being exposed, and there were also benefits to being exposed.

However, sometimes appropriate changes can force the other party to change their course of action and expose more weaknesses.

"What did you do to that idiot?" Rowena's question was completely different from Helga's. She knew very well that Salazar hadn't killed Jack, which meant he must have done something worse than death to Jack.

"It's nothing, just letting him experience the dueling ring all the time." Rice shrugged. "Of course, I'm very careful to keep it under control; no one will notice anything unusual."

Hearing Salazar say this, Helga breathed a sigh of relief and felt a sense of satisfaction: Salazar has grown up too!

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

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(End of this chapter)