Snape's fingertips still trembled uncontrollably, and the muscles in his arm beneath his robes spasmed from overuse.

He had never so clearly felt the sensation of magical depletion—like a drained swamp, where even the simplest Lumos was difficult to cast.

Although a boiling, ceaseless anger still surged in his chest, cold reason reminded him: this crushing duel had completely exposed the insurmountable chasm between them.

Perhaps even years ago, when the opponent had still been a Hogwarts student, he had been no match for him, Snape thought gloomily.

Only today's public execution-like duel truly made him grasp the opponent's terrifying strength—that fluid casting rhythm, effortless control of magic, and the unnerving mastery of seamlessly blending teaching with practical combat.

He narrowed his eyes, as if suddenly realizing something.

Such strength… was more than enough to become the third Dark Lord. Yet Sagres had chosen to return to Hogwarts as a Professor?

Snape's gaze swept over the fanatical Young Wizards below the stage, and a vague suspicion gradually formed—was he starting here to build a faction and slowly seize power in the wizarding world?

Or was there something in this ancient, thousand-year-old school worth plotting for?

…

On the other side of the stage, Lockhart lay "unconscious" in an exaggerated posture. If not for his eyelids occasionally twitching, his pale face could have passed for that of a corpse.

Sagres casually cast a detection spell, then raised an eyebrow at the school healer on the sidelines. "Heh~ Madam Pomfrey, it seems we need some special energizer."

The school healer blinked knowingly and pulled a bottle of potion bubbling with eerie green foam from deep within her medical kit.

When the pungent smell of rotten eggs filled the air, the "unconscious" Lockhart immediately began coughing violently.

At last, the Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor was led aside for treatment, and Snape also returned to the Professors' table to rest.

Sagres remained standing on the stage, nodding to the eager Young Wizards as he announced, "The demonstration ends here; the practical session begins."

The Young Wizards cheered in unison, and the Great Hall instantly turned into a hive of activity. After watching for so long, they could finally try it themselves.

Sagres lightly tapped his wand against his palm, looking down at the cheering students with a faint smile.

"First, I must warn you—anyone who turns a duel into a street brawl…"

Sparks suddenly burst from the tip of his wand, and the noisy Great Hall instantly fell silent.

He didn't say what the consequences would be, but everyone knew they wouldn't be pleasant.

Then he traced several patterns in the air with his wand, and the floor of the entire Great Hall rippled like water. Under the effect of magic, the space expanded several times, and stone pillars rose from the ground, dividing it into dozens of duelling platforms.

"Slytherin versus Gryffindor! Ravenclaw versus Hufflepuff!"

His voice echoed clearly into every corner. "Form your own teams—take your positions immediately!"

The Young Wizards erupted as if they had been struck by a cheering charm.

Harry and Ron immediately paired up, while Malfoy grabbed Crabbe and Goyle by their robes. Hermione was demonstrating standard duelling stances to Neville, and Luna had already pulled Astoria toward the designated area.

"First lesson." Sagres stepped onto an invisible staircase, ascending into mid-air, his black robes flowing like a shadow in the candlelight.

"Casting and dodging are not two separate actions, but a single breath's rhythm." He paced back and forth on the suspended central platform. "I don't expect you to use incredibly intricate magic in the first lesson, but I have one requirement: do your best—aim at the target, cast the spell, and then dodge the attack."

"But Professor…" a Hufflepuff student timidly raised a hand, "we know too few spells…"

Looking at the somewhat stunned Young Wizards, Sagres said calmly, "I know Hogwarts' curriculum, but I also know that all of you have a few nasty little jinxes tucked away—feel free to use them. Today is the perfect time to test them."

He paused. "Of course, if you truly can't attack, then at least learn to dodge as nimbly as a rabbit."

"But… what about the rules of duelling?" Penelope Clearwater, the Ravenclaw Prefect, raised her hand. "We're not even very familiar with the formal bowing procedures…"

"Rules? The purpose of the Duelling Club is to give you the ability to face danger, not to teach you how to perform." He flicked his wand, and a red light shot past the questioner's ear. "Discard all rules—because on a life-and-death battlefield, these flashy gestures will only turn you into corpses…"

A quiet murmur came from the corner: "But Hogwarts is so safe, why learn these things…"

"Hogwarts might not be as safe as you imagine!"

Sagres replied calmly, and with a flick of his wrist, released a giant snake made of magical smoke, which slithered swiftly through the crowd.

The Young Wizards stirred for a moment but quickly settled down when they realised the giant snake was merely an illusion, without substance.

"I spent two years at Durmstrang… In that school, duelling and the Dark Arts are essential skills for every wizard. In this regard, you are already far behind."

As he spoke, the magical giant snake opened its massive maw again, swallowing each student like a greedy predator, before dissolving into smoke and vanishing.

"But it doesn't matter… I'm now giving you an opportunity; you can prove to me that you are not useless."

…

On the field, over thirty teams had formed spontaneously—some in groups of three to five, others fighting alone. The moment Sagres waved his wand to announce the start, the Great Hall erupted.

The Young Wizards became like a disturbed hornet's nest, flinging spells at their opponents without a care for accuracy, aiming only to hit the crowd.

"Scourgify!" a first-year Hufflepuff screamed, casting a cleaning spell. A Ravenclaw girl opposite him instantly began bubbling all over, a strange film of soap coating her clothes.

"What kind of attack is that?!" someone nearby roared.

"I—I only learned that!"

Harry, Ron, and Hermione stood back-to-back, surrounded by several older Gryffindors.

Hermione was hesitant at first, but when a Densaugeo jinx whizzed past her hair, she completely erupted.

"Expulso!"

"Stupefy!"

"Incarcerous!"

"Petrificus Totalus!"

"Rictusempra!"

"Expelliarmus—!"

Her wand became a blur, spells firing toward the opposition like a machine gun.

But her fierce assault immediately drew retaliation.

Three jinxes shot toward her at once. Harry, quick as lightning, pulled her out of the way, but Ron wasn't so lucky—his broken wand gave a sharp snap and exploded in a puff of green smoke, deflecting the spell straight into his own face.

"Ugh—" He doubled over, slugs spewing from his mouth.

"Ron!" Hermione shrieked, but the next second she was forced to roll aside to dodge, a Tarantallegra curse exploding where she had just been.

…

Sagres had deliberately widened the space between the warring parties, wary that it might otherwise devolve into close-quarters brawling.

However, he underestimated the Young Wizards' "creativity"—several Slytherins and Gryffindors somehow managed to charge straight into each other, instantly escalating from a spell duel to a physical fight.

"Take that—a kick!"

"Ow! Why are you pulling my hair?!"

"Let go! Who's choking me?!"

Sagres's mouth twitched, and with a light tap of his wand, several silver flashes burst forth, forcibly separating the brawling students.

Finally, amid the chaotic scene of panting, crooked wands, and dishevelled robes, he waved his hand, calling a halt to the duelling.

Glancing around, he raised an eyebrow—better than he had expected.

At least eighty percent of the students had remembered his requirement to cast spells while moving, rather than standing still like targets.

"Not bad," he said slowly, a hint of satisfaction in his eyes. "At least you didn't blow up the Great Hall."

Beside him, Ron gave another "blech" and spat out a slug.

Sagres waved his wand, and healing spells shot from its tip, curing the students who had been struck by jinxes one by one.

______

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