With the upgrade of the Demeter ritual magic, a realization dawned in Char's mind. Of course. The occasion for this magic was a celebration in honor of Demeter, the goddess of fertility. He had only been focused on the "magic" and had completely ignored the "ritual." He hadn't held the solemn yet joyful feeling of a celebration in his heart, nor the strong desire for a good harvest. He had just been reciting the spell and waving his wand like it was any other charm. How could he have brought out its true essence that way?
As Char figured this out, the bronze sheen on the magical words of Demeter's ritual grew increasingly intense. A new line of text slowly extended from it, just as the words "Frequency Light Spell" had appeared on the system panel before. [Demeter's Blessing], also exuding a bronze luster, materialized behind the ritual magic.
Char's eyes lit up. "Demeter's Blessing? Is this the change brought about by the advancement of the ritual magic? What effect does it have?"
However, although the new ability glowed with a bronze luster, the handwriting was illusory. It seemed that some necessary condition was missing before it could be used. Char pondered for a moment and naturally thought of the small silver bucket—or rather, the Silver Cup of Demeter. The ritual magic required the cup to unleash its power; otherwise, it was just a prayer. He reasoned that Demeter's Blessing must also require the cup to be effective.
He immediately returned to Hogwarts and touched the silver cup stored in his small greenhouse. As expected, as he held it, the words [Demeter's Blessing] on the system panel immediately solidified.
Char wasn't in a hurry to cast the new magic. Based on his last experience, the cup was too broken, and the power it could mobilize was quite limited. After creating some soil with ancient magic, it had gone dormant, and he hadn't been able to use the ability again since. If the trolls hadn't contributed some faith, accelerating its recovery, the time would have been even longer. Casting this new blessing would probably result in a similar situation. He would have to wait a while before he could use it again. He couldn't waste it. It was best to check the relevant legends first to determine its general effect.
With this in mind, Char got up and went to the library, searching for details about Demeter, the fertility goddess of the Olympian era. Surprisingly, there were quite a few legends about her. Perhaps because Demeter's silver cup was so famous in history, and because of the successful imitation that was the Hufflepuff Cup, research on Demeter had never stopped, even in modern times.
Some said that Demeter was the true founder of Herbology, that it was only after her that it became a formal discipline. Others claimed she had gained infinite knowledge from a tree, which was how she possessed such amazing magical powers and attainments in Herbology, enough to affect the growth and decline of the earth itself.
Char flipped through the legends, shaking his head slightly. The Olympian era was so far in the past, shrouded in rich mythology, and these studies only made the myths more profound. The information was so confusing that it was hard to tell what was specific information and what was just legend.
He focused his attention on the rituals, celebrations, and sacrifices of Demeter. He was relieved to find that the records in this regard were much more reliable. Perhaps it was because even after the Olympian era ended, those sacrificial rituals continued to be passed down for a long time, even becoming a reference for many ritual magics in later generations. He carefully read the contents, and soon found the word he was looking for: blessing.
"Blessings of abundance." "The grains of the ears are shining."
He flipped through several books in a row, all with similar descriptions. The effect of Demeter's Blessing gradually became clear in his mind. "I used to think that the effect of the blessing was targeted at people, like bringing good luck. Fortunately, I checked. It turns out that the blessings bestowed at Demeter's celebrations have always been for the crops that are about to be planted. According to the records, blessed seeds often produce stronger crops. Both the yield and quality will be much higher than those without the blessing!"
Char's eyes lit up. Perhaps to others, this so-called blessing was very useless—the blessings of Athena and Ares, for example, could actually improve one's strength. But for Char, there was no blessing more suitable. For him, plants with higher quality and higher yield were priceless.
His eyes were full of anticipation. He immediately returned to the small greenhouse. This time, he didn't hesitate. His expression was solemn. The scene of the celebration on Sprout Island came to his mind: the joy of cultivating the land, the anticipation for a good harvest. All kinds of emotions surged in his heart. He was like a priest at a celebration. He waved his wand and recited the mantras. In that moment, the ancient spell echoed in the small greenhouse, and the silver cup began to emit a series of metaphorical sounds.
He tapped the silver cup with his wand, repeating a prayer from the ritual magic. "Cantate ovantes, seges alta viret! Blessings of abundance. Singing and thriving in the fertile soil, the crops will thrive!"
The next moment, on the system panel, the words "Demeter's Blessing" were filled with a rich bronze luster, as if they were alive and shining brightly. A vague pattern also lit up in the small silver bucket. Then, points of light appeared, little by little, inside the cup. On the system panel, even though he still held the cup, the words of the blessing became empty again. Char understood. Just like before, he wouldn't be able to use this blessing again for some time.
His eyes fell on the spots of light in the small silver bucket. The power of the blessing was here. After taking a deep breath, he waved his wand, and a few light spots were attracted out and immersed themselves on several plants in the greenhouse. At the same time, his eyes were always paying attention to the changes in the reward light balls above these plants.
A moment later, a look of disappointment appeared on his face. He shook his head slightly. It wasn't that the blessing had no effect. The reward light balls of the plants that had received the blessing did indeed expand, but the change was too weak. If he hadn't been watching the whole time, he might have missed it altogether. At this rate, even if he guided all the light spots into a single Silver-level reward plant, there was no way to upgrade its reward tier to Gold.
Or is it that the silver cup is too broken? he wondered. The power of the blessing it can provide is too little. He sighed slightly but wasn't discouraged. He was mentally prepared that the blessing wouldn't be very effective on the Silver-level plants. Besides, the plants he had chosen had already grown to a certain stage, some not far from maturity. The effect of the blessing would probably be further reduced.
According to historical records, even back in the Olympian era, such blessings were generally only used on seeds, and were rarely used on grown plants. There should be similar reasons. Char pondered for a moment. Perhaps I should use this blessing power on seeds as well. It's best to choose seeds that have relatively lower reward levels. That way, the effect should be more obvious.
And at that moment, he happened to have seeds that met the requirements. He flipped his hand and took out a bag of Chalati seeds that he planned to plant on Sprout Island. When mature, Chalati grass could provide a Black Iron-level spiritual enhancement reward. It was just right to use the power of the blessing to strengthen it. There was anticipation in his eyes.
He once again guided the power of the blessing into these Chalati grass seeds. This time, the magnitude of the change was a world of difference. The influx of each blessed light spot made the black iron luster in the Chalati grass reward information become visibly richer. Char's eyes lit up. After just a moment's consideration, he made his decision. The effect of one Bronze-level reward Chalati grass might be better than the combined effect of ten Black Iron-level grasses. And when the reward levels were piled high, the decay would be less. Then of course he had to concentrate the power of the blessing to create a batch of higher-level seeds.
He waved his wand, attracting the blessed light spots to continue to flow in. Soon, on the first Chalati grass seed, the black iron luster turned into a dull bronze luster. Then the second, the third… By the time the fifteenth seed was upgraded to a Bronze-level reward, the blessing power in the silver cup was finally exhausted.
Char's face was filled with an unsatisfied look. If only the power of the blessing could have been more, enough to upgrade all the seeds in the bag to Bronze level. But a moment later, he calmed himself down. Don't be too greedy. It's a pleasant surprise to have these improvements. His eyes fell on the system panel. The illusory state of "Demeter's Blessing" seemed to have recovered a little compared to before. At this rate, it seemed that he would be able to use the blessing again in about a month. The recovery speed was much faster than the time it took to generate the ancient magic. Although a blessing once a month was still not enough, it was better than nothing.
He carefully put the silver cup back in its place, its importance having increased several levels in his mind. If there's a chance, he thought, I still need to collect more legends about Demeter. And I need to find out if there's a reliable way to repair the Silver Cup. If it works, even if it can't be completely repaired, it will be of great use to me.
He had spent another night in the small greenhouse. The climate was gradually getting warmer, and the sun rose earlier and earlier. The sky had brightened again. He hesitated slightly, wondering what the plan for the day was. Just then, the sound of an owl's flapping wings was heard. Professor Sprout had sent a letter.
"Dear Char. I know you've been busy reclaiming the land lately. Although I have already asked for leave for you for those days, try not to miss classes in the castle."
Char smiled bitterly. It was true. He had been skipping classes for almost half a month. If it weren't for his aunt asking for leave, he would have been drowned in letters from various professors. That's the case. Anyway, the first batch of fields on Sprout Island had been cultivated, and his legendary abilities had reached a bottleneck. In the short term, there was no area where he could continue to improve. Why not take a long-awaited class? Just treat it as a way to relax. That's right. What class is today? He reviewed his schedule. It seems so… Defense Against the Dark Arts?! A strange look flashed in his eyes. This was a good opportunity to find out what the two-faced man had been doing recently.
He walked towards the Great Hall. It was breakfast time; he would see if there had been any changes in the Hufflepuff common room. Halfway there, three familiar figures came into view. It was the long-lost savior trio. When Harry and the others saw him, they were stunned at first, then quite surprised.
"Char? I heard you were sick," Harry said. "Professor Sprout gave you a lot of days off. Are you healed?"
Because Char had previously told them about Nicolas Flamel and the Philosopher's Stone, they firmly believed that he was still on the side of justice, just being "coerced" and "abused" by Snape. Their attitude was naturally sympathetic. After a few pleasantries, Char remembered that Harry's invisibility cloak had been with him for quite some time. He brought it up. "Can I borrow your Invisibility Cloak for a few more days, Harry? I'll return it to you intact in no more than a week."
He thought Harry would be hesitant, but he agreed readily. "Of course. After all, you've been absent from Defense Against the Dark Arts for a while. You still need the cloak to protect yourself."
Char was stunned for a moment. "Did you just say Defense Against the Dark Arts? What happened to Defense Against the Dark Arts?" If he remembered correctly, the class had been a total disgrace, with Quirrell playing the part of a timid, weak professor. Why, listening to Harry now, did it sound like things had changed?
Just after he asked, an excited Ron couldn't wait to show off. He waved his wand skillfully, and several rays of light whizzed past Char. Char raised an eyebrow, his expression puzzled. These were new spells, all combat-type. Quirrell started teaching the young wizards how to fight? he wondered. Of course, it made no difference to him. In his eyes, Ron's actions were still too immature; he hadn't even touched the edge of actual combat. But Ron obviously didn't think so. Seeing that Char didn't react to his spells, he had a faint sense of superiority.
"Look. This is what Professor Quirrell taught us. He must have been concentrating on dealing with Snape before, so he didn't have the energy for class. Snape hasn't been to the fourth floor for a long time now. Maybe he has given up. Professor Quirrell is finally showing his true abilities. Not only did he teach us combat spells, he also let us practice sparring in class." Ron was delighted, talking about how he had easily taken down a Slytherin last time.
Hermione had to interrupt him. She consoled Char, "It's okay, Char. Your house has Defense Against the Dark Arts today. With your foundation, you'll definitely catch up soon."
Harry suddenly remembered something. "Oh, no," he said, a bad look on his face. "Today, your house and Slytherin have class together. Char, you've caused them so much trouble before. If they know you're coming to class, they'll definitely take revenge on you through the sparring. Why don't you just continue to pretend to be sick and get through today?"
Char smiled. "Thank you for your concern, Harry. I'll make my own decision. I'll return the invisibility cloak to you later."
The trio checked the time and screamed. "Oh, no! Potions class! We have to hurry!" They ran off towards the Potions classroom. Along the way, Hermione glanced at Ron.
"Why do you keep looking at me?" he asked.
Her brow furrowed slightly. "Why are you in such a good mood today? Just when we left the common room, you said going to Potions class was a disaster. Why do you look like you're going on a picnic now?"
Ron snorted, a hint of complacency on his face. "That's because I was thinking about tomorrow's Defense Against the Dark Arts class. Hermione, last class, Professor Quirrell praised me as a genius. And did you see? Char didn't react at all to the spells I just cast. This proves that my defense is better than his. I have a strength that's better than others; shouldn't I be happy?"
Hermione snorted, a little unhappy for some reason. "Char will catch up soon. Don't be complacent for too long." Their conversation was soon drowned out by the depressing atmosphere of the Potions classroom.
Char, on the other hand, didn't care at all about the content of the class, or the so-called practical training. To take a few classes, to practice briefly, and think you could catch up with the strength he had honed with countless blood, sweat, and pain? His efforts, and the help of his planting system, were not so worthless. He was thinking about Quirrell's intention. Why is he suddenly revealing his true colors and stopping the pretense? Could it be that he's trying to divert attention from my 'exploration'?
He also noticed Ron's great respect for Quirrell. It was because Quirrell had praised Ron, who lacked recognition, as a "genius." His expression darkened slightly. Quirrell had inherited some of Voldemort's demagoguery. It would be easy for him to use his position as a teacher to influence students subtly. Ron must have been affected. But a moment later, his expression returned to calm. Dumbledore would guide the trio. It had nothing to do with him. He only cared about the students in his own house. Given Quirrell's nature, he probably looked down on them and wouldn't get too close. He breathed a sigh of relief and continued toward the Great Hall.
At the same time, at the Slytherin table, there was a slight commotion. Someone whispered, "Have you heard? Char Sprout is back in class." The name brought different expressions to the little snakes' faces. Some were still afraid, but some were eager to try. The shadow Char had cast on their house was strong. He had humiliated them time and time again, and in the last Quidditch match, he had directly defeated them, leaving a record that might never be broken. He was their public enemy.
Today, their houses had Defense Against the Dark Arts together. Char was back. For many of them, this was an opportunity. Having been absent for so long, he had missed the learning and practical application of the previous classes. How could he be their opponent? This was a good opportunity to deal with him in a practical sparring match.
On the fifth-year side, Marcus Flint turned his eyes away from a letter from his father. He fiercely tore into a bloody steak and turned to a third-year. "You're the TA for Defense Against the Dark Arts today, right? Don't go. Just say you have an upset stomach. I'll be the teaching assistant for this class."
The third-year looked at him. "What are you up to?"
Marcus Flint cracked his thick knuckles and showed a sinister smile. "Of course, I'm going to teach the little one who's been absent from school for so long. Help him catch up. But it's practical guidance. Getting injured, breaking a dozen bones, and spending a month in the infirmary… that's normal, right?"