The Wind and the Wings of Hogwarts

He looked excited and curious, as if he wanted to see the trump card that Scott had specially brought out.

Scott stepped forward and, using a standard throwing motion, hurled his spear.

Like a golden streak of light, the spear reached Slytherin's eyes in the blink of an eye.

The sharp tip of the gun was pointed directly at his forehead.

At this critical moment, time seemed to pass exceptionally slowly.

Scott stared at Slytherin, his eyes wide with surprise.

He suddenly retreated, dodged, and tried to block, but to no avail.

The tree-branch-like spear relentlessly pursued him like a persistent leech, making it impossible to shake him off.

No matter what Slytherin tried to block it, the lance would pass through the object like a ghost, leaving no trace.

Even the black flames, more ferocious than the Fiery Blaze, could not destroy the spear that resembled a withered tree branch.

Under Scott's watchful eye, Slytherin, despite his best efforts, could only hold out for a few seconds before the spear pierced his chest and pinned him to the ground.

This was also because he dared not let the spear pierce his head, and at the last moment he barely managed to adjust himself, using his chest to meet the spearhead.

At that moment, Scott had already grasped another long gun in his hand.

Of course, it's not the special "Gungnir" combined with "Yuktrashir", but the pure "Gungnir".

The instant Slytherin was hit, Scott threw his spear again.

This time, Slytherin was unable to dodge and was pierced through the head by the golden spear.

The black flames gradually died down, and black blood flowed beneath the body.

At the same time, black smoke billowed from King Arthur's mouth and nose, forming an illusory image of a large, bald, bearded man in the air.

"So this is Salazar Slytherin after all."

Scott looked at the head floating in the air and nodded in agreement.

Why does a clearly ugly old monkey need to put on the appearance of a young and handsome one?

Tut tut...

Scott glanced at the gruesome corpses nailed to the ground.

I'm so sorry, King Arthur.

If anyone's to blame, blame Salazar Slytherin.

Chapter 566 The Mystery of Origin

"I never imagined there was such magic."

Slytherin looked down at Scott.

Scott was also on high alert, maintaining the highest level of vigilance.

Even though Slytherin's situation has taken a sharp turn for the worse, and his millennia-long plan has been thwarted, he still shows no sign of being furious.

He didn't even show much emotional fluctuation.

How could Scott not be wary?

"Father."

At that moment, Medea looked up at Slytherin's head, which was made of black mist.

"Should we leave now?"

"leave?"

Slytherin looked away from Scott and at Medea.

"What are you thinking, my daughter?"

Medea did not avoid his gaze.

She said softly, "Father, I think we still have plenty of time to rearrange and plan."

"Rethink the plan?" Slytherin nodded. "You have a point."

He floated down from the sky and landed beside Medea.

"Are we just going to let them leave like this?" Savannah asked Scott, unwilling to give up.

Scott smiled and shook his head.

"I don't think Mr. Slytherin will leave easily."

“I think so too,” says Ravenclaw in the painting.

"Oh?"

The Slytherins over there laughed.

His gaze swept past the Ravenclaw frame and landed on Scott.

Why would you think that?

“Maybe it’s intuition,” Scott said. “My intuition is usually very accurate.”

As he spoke, the two spears that were embedded in King Arthur's body were suddenly pulled out and returned to Scott's side at an extremely fast speed.

Slytherin instantly transformed into a wisp of black mist and flew toward the corpse at an incredible speed.

Unfortunately, it was too late.

The ground suddenly split open, like a gaping maw of an abyss, swallowing King Arthur's body.

When the black mist that Slytherin had transformed into arrived, runic circuits on the ground lit up, and a pillar of blazing flame shot into the sky.

The scorching temperature caused the surrounding air to distort.

When the pillar of fire fell and disappeared, the ground was covered with bright red cracks and charred marks, and countless black particles were still falling in the air.

Slytherin, now a black mist, was not afraid of the heat of the flames, so he was not harmed by being hit directly by the pillar of fire.

But at this moment, he could no longer maintain his previous indifferent attitude.

The black mist condensed once more into an illusory head, and Slytherin's originally jet-black eyes turned slightly red.

“You ruined that body,” he said.

Although he was trying his best to be patient, Scott could still detect a hint of madness in his voice.

Scott wasn't afraid of his madness; rather, he was more excited about Slytherin's inability to remain calm and wise.

“King Arthur has been dead for over a thousand years,” Scott said. “Let the legend live on in the legend.”

"very good."

Slytherin's long beard fluttered.

"So, to the magical world today, I, a wizard from a thousand years ago, am best just a legend."

"Actually, I don't really care about this kind of thing."

Scott was telling the truth.

"As long as it doesn't involve me, I don't care whether you are resurrected or not."

But Slytherin wanted to use him as material for a magical ritual, so naturally, they were locked in a life-or-death struggle.

"I understand."

Slytherin suddenly calmed down.

His long beard drooped down again, and his eyes turned black once more.

He looked Scott up and down several more times.

"I have to say, it's all too much of a coincidence."

He said, frowning.

"I mean, your existence, your special status, is there really no one manipulating things behind the scenes?"

"Who knows?"

Scott, who knew the truth, remained calm and shrugged.

"Even if someone really did manipulate all of this, the person who could do such a thing is beyond my ability to comment on."

"Too."

Slytherin nodded in agreement.

"I knew long ago that the world is not as simple as we think it is."

His words clearly piqued Scott's interest.

Scott then asked directly, "How so?"

Slytherin glanced at the Ravenclaw in the painting.

“Royna must know this problem too,” he said. “A wizard who has reached our level can no longer go any further.”

Scott looked puzzled.

He doesn't feel that way yet.

"Because you are still improving."

Slytherin's tone was flat.

"But your progress is merely acquiring more knowledge, learning more magic, and more spellcasting techniques. In essence, you can no longer go any further."

Scott asked, "You mean magic?"

Slytherin nodded. "A wizard's control over magic is limited, as is the efficiency with which he uses magic when casting spells. Of course, a wizard's lifespan is also limited. But this differs from the descriptions in ancient texts."

Scott understood. "You mean those gods?"

Slytherin said, "God is just a more powerful wizard."

Scott seemed to be deep in thought upon hearing this.