In the small greenhouse, a powerful realization ignited in Char's mind, and his heart began to hammer against his ribs. He could plant ancient plants now. Compared to ordinary magical herbs, the level of rewards that ancient plants could provide was on another plane of existence, offering unique and special abilities, like the insights into ancient magic he had already found so invaluable.
The path was treacherous, he knew. The difficulty of getting started was high, and the process of practice demanded a dangerous infusion of natural will. But once achieved, the benefits were beyond considerable. If he hadn't harvested the ancient Elber tree and gained the insights of ancient weather magic, dealing with the mutant mushrooms contaminated by the temple's power would have been a far more troublesome affair. If he could plant another ancient plant now, ahead of schedule, the benefits he would gain upon its maturity were self-evident.
Thinking of this, his gaze became firm. "The sooner you plant, the sooner you can harvest. Getting this level of benefit even a little ahead of time could come in handy at a critical moment. Since I have this opportunity, I can't possibly miss it."
With that thought, he no longer hesitated. He took out another tube of the Quintaped's blood. The blood, which exuded a strong, evil aura, was dispersed into a fine mist by his Levitation Charm and spread into a field of glowing mushroom mycelium. Immediately, the mycelium that absorbed the blood began to grow strange, red hair.
Char's face remained an emotionless mask. He sliced open his palm and squeezed out a puff of his own blood mist. The vital, sublimated blood was absorbed by the mutant mushrooms that had just begun their transformation, and it had an incredible effect. The process, which should have taken some time, was completed almost in an instant. An area of mutant human-faced glowing mushrooms, no less in size than the previous ones, appeared again in the small greenhouse.
This time, the mushrooms had not yet matured. The cold voice that had dissipated earlier began to be heard again, intermittently. But his voice was now filled with confusion, shock, and a rising anger. "What are you trying to do?" It seemed the owner of the voice had never imagined this. Char had just put in so much effort to get rid of them, and now he had planted a whole new crop?
The cold voice spoke tentatively, a strange, malicious laugh echoing in the air. "Do you regret it? I invited you before. The power of the temple was at your fingertips, but you rejected me. It's not impossible to change your mind now. But you'll have to give up the ancient weather magic." The sinister laugh clearly showed it was extremely wary of the lightning spell. It added another sentence. "And tell us where exactly you got this ancient weather magic from. Otherwise, you can't—"
But at this moment, a sneer appeared on Char's face. He didn't even bother to pay attention to the voice. His wand began to wave again. As the magic nodes were constructed along with the runes, and lightning crackled and began to surge again at the tip of his wand, the sinister laughter paused for a moment. It said with horror, "No? You planted another batch just to destroy it again?"
Before it could finish, Char waved his wand downwards. A flash of lightning surged, immediately enveloping these new mutant mushrooms. The sinister laugh turned into an angry, shrill roar. "I'll remember you! You little Hufflepuff, you're going to regret what you've done!" The next second, its sound was drowned out by the rumbling thunder. All that was left were piles of gray ashes.
Looking at the amount of ash, however, Char frowned slightly. It was much less than what he had gotten last time, less than one-tenth. He was collecting these ashes mainly to cultivate ancient plants, but with such a small quantity, even if he used all the remaining Quintaped blood on hand, he was afraid it would be far from enough. What was the problem?
He fell into thought. "This ash was created when my ancient weather magic collided with the ancient dark magic of the mushrooms. Perhaps because of this, the wills of the two magics canceled out, leaving only pure ancient magic, which helps the cultivation of ancient plants. The amount of ash produced this time is far less than last time. Could it be because the mushrooms had just transformed and hadn't matured yet, so they contained less of the temple's power?" If that was the case…
His eyes fell on Demeter's Silver Cup. This alchemical item, from the Olympian-era fertility goddess, allowed for a full ritual magic approximately every three months. The soil affected by the ritual had the strange effect of accelerating the maturity of plants. It had been well under three months since he had last used it, but due to the power of faith he had gained from various channels, the interval had been shortened. The ritual magic had cooled down. He originally wanted to use it to ripen plants like the Guardian Tree and Shadow Thorn. Now, there was another choice.
"What if we use this opportunity on the mutant mushrooms and force them to ripen?" he estimated, his eyes lighting up. Counting it down, it seemed to be quite profitable. After all, the last time he had used the Silver Cup, the amount of special soil produced was quite limited. But if he used this soil to ripen the mushrooms, and since his own blood could greatly lower the threshold of their metamorphosis, the ripening effect would be very significant. Then the effectiveness of the ancient ash obtained would far exceed that of the special soil. Of course, this was based on the premise that his conjecture was valid. But even if the guess was wrong, all he would lose was one use of the Silver Cup. He could also get some ancient ash in the process. It wasn't really a loss. If he succeeded, he would make a lot of money, and if he failed, he wouldn't lose anything. Of course, he had to take the chance.
He fetched Demeter's Silver Cup. At the same time, he took out a tube of Quintaped blood to induce a new batch of mutant mushrooms. The cold voice sounded again, a sharp tinge of anger in its tone. "You're still coming?!" Then, it seemed to realize what Char wanted to do. "You damn little one. You actually want to use the power of the temple as nourishment? You are blaspheming. You have committed the sin of disrespect, and you will be punished by the gods!" At the same time, the red hairs on the mutant mushrooms immediately seemed to be suppressed and became less active. The cold voice became more and more intermittent, cursing him viciously. Seeing this, Char frowned. The power of the temple was beginning to converge, trying to prevent him from getting too much nourishment.
The next moment, a cold look flashed in his eyes. "Is that up to you?" He slammed his wand against Demeter's Silver Cup. A clear and pleasant sound, like a bird's song, began to echo in the small greenhouse as he recited the incantation for the ritual magic. "Proscindite glaciem, vomere fulgente!" The sound of the silver cup breaks the frozen ground, and the plowshare shines! As the first incantation was recited, the Silver Cup began to emit an increasingly crisp hum. At this moment, a cold voice came from the mushrooms, as if it was scared. The voice trembled, seeing something incredible. "This is… Demeter's ritual magic? Demeter's Silver Cup?! How could such a thing be in your hands!" It felt like its entire worldview was about to be shattered. First, there was the Shadow Thorn, then the ancient weather magic. Now, even the Silver Cup of Demeter appeared in the hands of this little boy. What kind of family fortune was this? Next time, wouldn't he just take out the World Tree?
Immediately, it realized something was wrong. The magic of Demeter's Silver Cup was almost absolute in its effect on plants. No matter how strange this plant was, no matter what power it contained, if it grew on the earth, it had to obey the magic of the goddess of fertility. As luck would have it, the power of the temple at this moment was trying to pollute him through these very plants. It was over.
At this time, Char knocked twice on the Silver Cup. "Spargite grana auri, paleasque territe!" Ring the silver cup twice, sow the golden ears, and grind the chaff! "Cantate ovantes, seges alta viret!" Ring the silver cup three times, the land will be fertile and the crops will flourish!
Accompanied by a bright light, the soil placed in the cup was soaked in silver light, immediately turning into special soil that could ripen plants. He picked up a strand and dropped it on the mushrooms. Immediately, regardless of whether the forces involved were willing or not, the mushrooms became energetic, and as if the fast-forward button had been pressed, they moved towards maturity like a rocket. The power of the ancient dark magic began to grow continuously. There was panic in the cold voice. "Wait, wait, I didn't mean to give any more power! You can't snatch it! You're not allowed to snatch it!"
While harvesting the reward light balls, Char waved his wand again. Lightning flashed, and he chopped down at these mature mushrooms. In an instant, they turned into large puffs of ash. This quantity was much larger than the previous batch. His eyes lit up. He had confirmed his guess. The goal was to let the mushrooms mature so that he could get more of the temple's power, and only after using his own ancient weather magic to hedge against it could more ashes be obtained.
Since the guess was feasible, his eyes fell on the remaining soil in the Silver Cup, his gaze suddenly becoming more scorching. He couldn't help but lick his lips. "Shall we continue then?" In only a moment, under the combined power of his blood and the Silver Cup, another batch of new mutant mushrooms was grown. The cold voice was now emitting bursts of a tragic sound. "Stop! Stop it! You are no longer a thief, you are a robber! How can there be a Hufflepuff as small as you?"
He grinned. Without hesitation, he cast another ancient weather magic. Another large amount of ash was collected. Immediately, another new batch. The cold voice began to plead. "Misunderstanding. This is all a misunderstanding. I haven't done you any harm, yet you've already drained so much of my strength. Can we just end this?" He was not moved at all. Flashes of lightning, one after another, were exchanged for batch after batch of ancient ashes. To the end, the cold voice had become weak. It simply started cursing bitterly. "You damn little one. And damn Demeter. Her things couldn't be left to anyone else, they had to fall into the hands of a scourge like you! Wait until I come out—"
He waved his wand impatiently. The cold sound disappeared, transformed into warm ancient ashes. He wanted to make another batch, but it turned out that the special soil in the Silver Cup had been used up. Not only that, but only a small amount of the Quintaped's blood remained. He shook his head regretfully, having no choice but to give up. But soon, when he saw the harvest, the little regret in his heart disappeared. First was the system panel. After harvesting batch after batch of the mushrooms, his achievements in curse studies and Quintaped Transfiguration had made great progress. The original Gold-level curse science had directly crossed the bottleneck and reached the Platinum level. The original Bronze-level Quintaped Transfiguration had reached the critical point between Silver and Gold.
Of course, this was just the most insignificant gain. The real big deal was the ancient ashes piled high in front of him. The ancient magical aura emanating from it was particularly strong. Looking at this pile, his gaze was as if he was looking at some rare treasure. "That's enough. These ancient ashes should be enough to support the initial growth needs of an ancient plant. It's more than enough for planting." The only problem was which ancient plant to try. World Tree roots? Vulcan seeds? These two mythical existences were first eliminated. Mythical plants were too special; this ash might not be enough. That left the one seed obtained from Porgy Charman and the Whomping Willow branch he had had for a long time, a gift from his aunt.
It required almost no thought. He locked onto his target. He took out the Whomping Willow. Because it was cut from the original and properly processed by Professor Sprout, its activity was much higher than the other seed. With high activity, the survival rate would naturally be much higher. What's more, there had been a lot of research on the Whomping Willow. The Shadow Thorn and Devil's Snare cultivation he had done were all subtopics of it. He had accumulated a lot of experience. What he lacked was how to create an environment where ancient plants could take root and sprout through sophisticated magic control and potion configuration. This was the most difficult part of any ancient plant cultivation project. Many Herbology masters had devoted their entire lives to developing simpler methods with higher success rates. But fortunately, he had these ancient ashes. He could have easily bypassed this most difficult issue. In this way, the success rate would skyrocket.
The thoughts in his mind became clearer. He looked at the Whomping Willow in his hand, and his heart beat faster involuntarily. He had expected to make some progress on this in his fifth year. The goal for his first year was simply to cultivate the Guardian Tree to maturity. But now, this subject that countless masters had struggled with their entire lives, that he had thought was out of reach, seemed to have opened a crack in its door for him.
Taking a deep breath, his Occlumency kicked in, and he held his breath, blocking out all distracting thoughts. Calm. Calm. Now, all he thought about was each day and night he had spent trimming the magic nodes of the Devil's Snare, taking care of the details of the Shadow Thorns. Countless times of practice were the reason he dared to try. His hand was extremely steady. A flick of his wand, and the layers of magical protection wrapped around the Whomping Willow branches dissipated. The branches, emitting a lush green color, were revealed. He waved his wand, using the Pruning Charm to remove the leaves from the lower middle part of the branch, retaining only those on the upper part. This was because in the early stages, the most difficult thing was whether the branches could absorb nutrients. The leaves would compete for them. Therefore, the lower leaves had to be removed so that the absorbed nutrients could be transported to the top. The reason for retaining the top leaves was to take advantage of their ability to enhance the absorption of nutrients from the soil. The number of leaves retained had to maintain a delicate balance based on the amount of magic in the branches. And this was just one of countless details.
According to Professor Sprout's paper, he completed each step in an orderly manner. Until all the preconditions had been met, his solemn gaze then fell on the root of the branch. The most critical step was here. The next moment, he chanted the spell for the Divine Edge Shadowless Curse. The sharp magic power roared out, cutting the magic nodes at the root with crisp and clear strokes. In this way, the magic power and nutrients from the outside world could be absorbed into the branches to the greatest extent. And at the moment of completing this step, he didn't even lose a moment's delay. The processed branches were immediately inserted into the soil of the small greenhouse, mixed with the ancient ash. Just half a second slower, and the channel for absorbing nutrients might be contaminated by alien magic, causing the branches to be unable to absorb enough for their growth. This detail could be fatal.
Doing all this, his forehead was already covered with beads of sweat the size of soybeans. His spirit was even more tense than when he had first faced the mutant mushrooms. His eyes were fixed on the Whomping Willow branches planted in the soil without blinking. He took a deep breath, waiting patiently for the branches' reaction. Whether it was cuttings or grafting, you just needed to observe whether the branches began to absorb magic power. You could immediately determine whether the operation was a success or a failure. As long as he could start absorbing magic, there were still countless problems to be overcome. But at least the first step would be successful. However, this process, in addition to the operational details, also depended on luck. Even for a master of Herbology, a 30% success rate at this step was already very remarkable.
"I have done what needs to be done. I hope it can survive—" Just as time passed by, minute by minute, gradually approaching the limit recognized by the Herbology community, his gaze also sank downwards little by little. His palms were slightly clenched. Still failed? Which step did I not do well? Or is it just plain bad luck? A moment later, the limit had passed. Theoretically, the branches had not yet absorbed any magic from the soil. It was impossible. Even if he had already prepared himself mentally, at this moment, he couldn't help but feel a sharp pang of disappointment. He shook his head slightly. But just when he was about to taste the bitter fruit of this failure, the Shadow Thorn came to the side of the Whomping Willow branch. The next moment, its sharp thorns pierced the surface of the branch, infusing it with an ancient magical power.
Seeing this, Char's eyes suddenly widened. The Shadow Thorn was a well-known sub-species of the Whomping Willow, meaning their magical properties were quite similar. Now, was the shadow helping the Whomping Willow absorb magic power? It was like a patient who was no longer able to eat actively but could be given glucose directly through a syringe. A similar principle. In that case, maybe there was still hope.
He suppressed his racing heartbeat. Even his breathing seemed to have stopped. He quietly watched the scene in front of him. A moment later, the sharp thorns of the Shadow Thorn broke free from the branches. A little while later, a magical reaction was heard from within the Whomping Willow's branches. The ancient magic in the soil began to be slowly absorbed by them.
He suddenly clenched his fists. It's starting? The first step is completed? He still couldn't believe it. His gaze subconsciously dropped towards the branches of the Whomping Willow. Then, a flickering reward light ball appeared in his eyes.
This moment, he was stunned at first. Then, he stood up suddenly, swung a fist through the air, and let out a triumphant, guttural roar.
"It's done!"