But Tom had completely caught Quirrell off guard. The man hadn't taken him seriously at first, and by the time he realized his mistake, he had no chance left to fight back.

The hooded figure lay sprawled on the ground, motionless—like a corpse. Tom didn't hesitate. With a flick of his wand, several invisible blades sliced through the air, cutting the massive serpent into chunks. Then he pointed his wand at Quirrell.

"Reducto Maxima!"

"Fool!"

The curse shot forward like lightning, but Quirrell moved.

With a strange, serpentine twist of his body, he slithered away from the spell and then suddenly snapped upright.

Tom's expression hardened.

This was Quirrell… but the one in control now was most certainly Voldemort.

A chilling bloodlust began to permeate the forest. Despite the warmth of early spring, with the air nearing twenty degrees, frost began to form on the bushes and treetops.

"Die, boy!"

A beam of pitch-black light erupted from Quirrell's wand, surging toward Tom with terrifying force.

The killing intent locked onto him completely—Tom could feel it in his bones. A deep, primal intuition told him: No matter how I dodge, I'll be hit.

"Let me handle this!" Andros bellowed from within the Learning Space, requesting full control.

"Then take it!" Tom didn't hesitate. Without flinching, he activated Embodiment Mode—giving Andros direct access to his body.

In that brief moment—eyes closing, then reopening—Tom's entire presence shifted. His aura transformed completely. Without even raising his wand, a radiant white light burst forth from his left hand. The black beam slammed into it—

BOOM!

The forest lit up like day. Fire exploded into the air. Shockwaves blasted outward, shaking trees and earth. The sheer pressure rumbled through the woods with deafening force.

Beneath his hood, Voldemort's eyes widened in disbelief.

What in Merlin's name—?!

He'd just swapped into direct control of Quirrell's body, and suddenly Tom had transformed too? What the hell was this kid?

…

Elsewhere in the Forbidden Forest, Hagrid was leading his boarhound Fang and two terrified first-years—Harry and Ron—as they served their detention.

With Hagrid's enormous frame forging a safe path ahead, the two boys felt considerably more secure following behind.

"Look over there." Hagrid suddenly stopped and pointed to the right. "See that silvery stuff on the ground? That's unicorn blood. One of the unicorns in the forest's been injured. Even worse, last week, I found one dead."

"Merlin's beard…" Hagrid muttered gravely. "What kind of sick creature would attack unicorns? We've got to find the poor thing before it suffers any longer."

"Wait…" Ron's voice trembled. "If whatever hurt the unicorn finds us first… won't that be dangerous?"

"So long as you stay with me and Fang, no creature in this forest'll dare touch you," Hagrid reassured them as he pressed forward.

Just then—

BOOOOM!!!

A massive explosion tore through the forest. Even from far away, the shockwave rippled toward them, shaking the trees. Some of the thinner trunks even bent under the pressure.

"What was that?!" Hagrid's face paled as he broke into a run toward the source of the blast. Harry and Ron sprinted after him—and behind them came thunderous hoofbeats.

Dark silhouettes surged through the trees—centaurs.

"Hagrid!!" Ron's voice cracked in fear.

"Centaurs! Don't worry—they won't hurt you!" Hagrid shouted back without slowing down.

The rumbling didn't stop—explosions, gusts of heat, and magical shockwaves rolled through the forest like storms. When they finally burst through a row of ancient trees, the sight that met them made them freeze on the spot, mouths falling open.

"Tom?!"

All three shouted in unison.

They saw Tom facing off against a hooded man. But what truly stunned them was the battlefield itself.

The ground looked as if it had been struck by a meteor—lower than the surrounding forest, completely cratered and uneven. Everything ahead had been scorched and destroyed. The ancient trees behind them were the only things left standing. The forest in front of them had simply ceased to exist.

The charred scent of burning earth filled the air.

Even just looking at the aftermath made it clear—this was no ordinary duel. The level of destruction spoke of terrifying, nearly godlike power.

Tom heard Harry's cry—but didn't so much as glance back. He had already entered Transcendent Mode, mind and body fully focused on the battle between Voldemort and Andros.

"Watch carefully, Tom," Andros declared excitedly within his mind. "This is the true way to wield the Patronus—and the source of my title, 'The Invincible.'"

This wasn't like before—borrowing Tom's body for demonstration. Nor was it like the training duels in the Learning Space.

This was real combat—against an opponent worthy of him.

Andros's battle spirit, dormant for millennia, roared back to life.

Blinding white light burst from Tom's wand, illuminating the forest like a second sun had descended. The glowing aura surged toward Tom's body, enveloping him fully.

Then—like a human cannonball—Tom launched himself at Quirrell, fist raised high, glowing with radiant power.

Voldemort tried to maneuver Quirrell's body to dodge. The unicorn blood he'd consumed the week prior was nearly spent—and he was beginning to panic.

How was Tom this powerful?

It felt like he wasn't even fighting a student anymore… but a wizard on Voldemort's own level.

He managed to twist half his body to the side—barely dodging.

But at that moment, Tom roared—

"Petrificus Totalus!"

His wand didn't move. No incantation echoed. But the spell hit anyway.

Quirrell's entire body froze mid-motion. His eyes widened in horror as Tom's glowing fist—blazing like a falling star—slammed straight into his chest.

CRACK—!

His ribcage caved in visibly, and he was launched through the air like he'd been hit by a train. Trees snapped as his body plowed through them, and his scream echoed across the forest like a tortured banshee.

When he finally slammed into the ground, Harry caught sight of something horrifying—under the light radiating from Tom, the hooded man's body melted into a shadow, slithering around the base of a tree like a snake, and vanished into the darkness.

"…Was that thing made of slime?" Andros muttered in surprise. "How is he still moving after that hit?"

"Black magic modification," Grindelwald answered, having watched the whole battle in silence. "His body's been altered to absorb and nullify most physical damage. But your punch—fueled by magic—still invaded his internal system."

"So the Patronus can be used like that too?" Grindelwald mused. "Seems we need a serious discussion about this spell."

Tom ended Embodiment Mode. Andros returned to the Learning Space and immediately turned to Grindelwald, suspicious.

"You? A Dark Wizard? What's the point of talking about Patronuses with you? Can you even cast one?"

Grindelwald: "…"

Bloody hell. Why did ancient wizards have to be this blunt?

—

Back in the forest, Tom remained still, not because of exhaustion—but because Embodiment Mode hadn't fully worn off yet.

He was doing his best to retain the insights he'd gained from that battle—to commit every detail to memory for future refinement.

Only when he fully returned to his normal state did he finally turn around.

Behind him stood three shell-shocked students and one trembling dog. Hagrid raised a massive hand in horror.

"Y-you… don't come any closer, alright?!"