"Now, a defensive demonstration!"

Snape's reaction was astonishingly fast.

He drew a perfect circle with his wand in front of him, and a silver Shield Charm instantly formed. The flock of birds crashed into the shield, erupting in a continuous series of bangs and sparks.

But Lockhart, beside him, was not so lucky.

The magical birds struck him like stones, sending him scrambling, hands over his head.

His screams mingled with the birds' squawks. His meticulously styled golden hair became a complete bird's nest, and his face quickly turned bruised and swollen.

"The core of defense lies in neutralizing threats," Sagres's voice cut through the clamor. "From protective spells to counter-spell systems, the specific choice depends on the situation. While defending, you must also accumulate strength, or else you'll fall into endless passive defense—"

Professor Snape, across from him, drew a circle with his wand, and a powerful surge of magic gathered behind the circular shield. A ruthless glint flashed in his eyes as he thrust his wand forward, sending a stream of spell light toward Sagres.

"Lastly, offense!"

With that, Sagres casually flicked his wand, tracing a silver arc in the air. The aggressive spell was immediately blocked by the magical barrier he had effortlessly set up.

"Offensive spells do not simply refer to damaging spells, but are a general term for all magic that can dismantle defenses and create opportunities in battle." His voice echoed clearly through the Great Hall as two thick red spell lights burst from the tip of his wand.

Snape's pupils suddenly contracted.

He furiously waved his wand, barely managing to block one of the spell lights. His black robes billowed wildly from the surge of agitated magic.

But Lockhart, beside him, was not so lucky.

He was struck by the spell light once again, spinning through the air like a rag doll.

"Expelliarmus can disarm an opponent, but remember—"

As Sagres spoke, he flicked his wand and pulled Lockhart back mid-air to his original position. "A wizard without a wand is still dangerous. For example, graduates of Uagadou in Africa all pass their assessments through wandless casting."

With that, he continued waving his wand. Two more spell lights shot out, the casting speed so fast it seemed like no incantation was required at all.

"Petrificus Totalus and Stupefy," his explanation flowed perfectly with his attacks, "can restrict movement but are non-lethal, making them excellent tools for controlling the battlefield—just right for you Young Wizards."

Snape was forced to interrupt the counter-spell he had been preparing and hastily raised a Shield Charm.

The shield and the spell light collided with a burst of dazzling sparks, and the impact drove him half a step back.

But Lockhart, beside him, was not so lucky.

This time, he couldn't even scream.

The moment the spell light struck him, his entire body instantly froze into a ridiculous pose: one leg comically raised, arms exaggeratedly stretched forward, and his face locked in an expression of terror—like a clumsy piece of modern art.

The Young Wizards in the Great Hall stared wide-eyed, their eyes shining, some even forgetting to breathe.

They had never seen such a dazzling magic duel—spells blooming onstage like fireworks, each one accompanied by precise tactical explanations.

Many students unconsciously mimicked the wand movements, only to sheepishly retract their hands when they caught sight of Lockhart's bruised, swollen face and disheveled hair.

Sagres's wand was like an inexhaustible spring.

He calmly explained as he casually unleashed a torrent of colorful spells.

Snape struggled within the storm of magic. His black robes flapped like the wings of a distressed bat, and the few counter-spells he managed to cast were effortlessly neutralized by Sagres.

"Pay attention," Sagres's voice cut through the roar of spells, calm and emotionless. "Professor Snape is demonstrating various dodging techniques and defensive spells—this will be a major focus in your future studies. Although it may look a bit messy, it's both effective and practical!"

Before the words had even faded, he lightly tapped his wand, and the stage floor suddenly rose to form a stone wall, perfectly blocking Snape's hastily cast Stupefy.

In the next motion, the stone wall dissolved into a sky full of butterflies, scattering glittering scales and obscuring the view.

Snape used a Scouring Charm to blow away the scales, but the swarm of butterflies before him suddenly transformed into a barrage of sharp spikes, rapidly launching toward him.

He cast Protego again, but his wand hand had begun to tremble slightly. Still, Sagres did not pause; he gently twirled his wand, and another crimson light shot out on a diagonal.

Snape awkwardly lunged to one side, taking cover behind an obstacle.

That obstacle happened to be Lockhart—still petrified, standing like a ridiculous statue in the path of the spell.

"Transfiguration is not just about turning teacups into mice," Sagres continued, as the raised walls constantly shifted form in the air. "If used well, every brick and stone on the battlefield can become a powerful tool for both offense and defense."

Finally, he thrust his wand forward.

A torrent of transformed bricks roared out, erupting with an earth-shattering blast at the center of the stage.

The Young Wizards screamed and covered their ears as two silver, snake-like ropes shot out from the smoke and dust, binding the exhausted Snape like a mummy—and incidentally adding a layer of "insurance" to the already petrified Lockhart.

When the smoke cleared, Sagres was already straightening his sleeves, as if the duel had been nothing more than a casual exercise.

"Remember," his voice rang clearly in the ears of every stunned student, "wizard dueling is not a static exchange of spells, but a three-dimensional game of movement, evasion, defensive neutralization, and offensive suppression. Victory depends on three aspects—"

Sagres slowly walked across the stage. He ignored the grim-faced Snape and instead glanced over the excited Young Wizards, then slowly raised a slender finger:

"First, magical power, which determines whether you can sustain high-intensity continuous casting."

After speaking, he raised another finger:

"Second, spell repertoire, which determines whether you can adapt to the rapidly changing battlefield."

Finally, he raised one more finger:

"Third, tactical foresight, which will determine whether you are the hunter or the prey."

He stopped at the edge of the stage, looking down at the eager Young Wizards below, and said earnestly, "But you must remember—true dueling masters often blur the lines between the three types of magic. Their spells combine offense and defense, constantly shifting. Of course, that is still a long way off for you..."

As Sagres spoke, he casually tapped Lockhart's petrified forehead with his wand. A faint glow flickered, and Lockhart immediately reverted to human form—only for his legs to give out, dropping him to his knees.

"I will apply to Dumbledore to take over this club," he said calmly from the stage. "If approved... I will teach you some real skills."

Then, ignoring the cheering crowd, he gracefully knelt down and lightly drew his wand across the necks of the two Professors.

Though it drew no blood, the throat-slitting gesture sent chills through every Young Wizard present.

"The final lesson for today," Sagres said, his voice not loud but crystal clear, "Always remember to finish them off."

His wand paused briefly at Snape's temple, and he added quietly, "Especially when facing someone who wants to take your life."

Ignoring the other man's angry glare, Sagres stood and snapped his fingers. The ropes binding the two Professors vanished instantly.

"Heh~ I hope I'm the one to teach you that lesson... and not your enemies."

______

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