In the Slytherin stands.
Malfoy watched the match intently, paying particular attention to the broom used by Ravenclaw's Seeker.
As the match continued, his eyes grew brighter and brighter.
"Faster speed, outstanding maneuverability, and that short but explosive vertical climb… Lucien really has successfully improved the Eurus broom!"
Just as Malfoy was immersed in excitement, a large figure shoved through the crowd and stopped beside him. A rough, booming voice rang out.
"Did you see that, Draco?"
Flint jerked his chin toward the direction the Eurus had just flown, a domineering smile spreading across his face.
"Now that's a real broom. Go talk to your friend Lucien and get seven of those for our team."
Color immediately rushed into Malfoy's pale face as he shouted in disbelief,
"I already donated seven brand-new Nimbus Two Thousand and Ones to the team! Those are the best brooms currently on the market!"
"They were."
Flint waved dismissively, interrupting him. His voice lowered, carrying undisguised menace.
"The only reason you made it onto the team was because the brooms you provided could make us faster, enough to crush Gryffindor and their antique junk. But now the Eurus has appeared!"
He stepped forward, his tall shadow completely enveloping Malfoy.
"Listen carefully, kid. I can find students who are better Seekers than you. Don't think the team can't function without you."
It was blatant intimidation.
Malfoy understood perfectly well that during Flint's detention period, he had temporarily organized several team practices himself. That likely made the captain, who was used to absolute authority, feel as though his position had been challenged.
Now Flint was simply using this as an excuse.
Anger and frustration surged inside Malfoy, but he still did not openly argue back.
He always felt that his own strength was insufficient, nowhere near enough to deal with someone like Flint, who was stupid but undeniably powerful.
The next day.
After thinking it over all night, Malfoy finally forced himself to find Lucien and awkwardly explain the situation in a hesitant voice.
Lucien listened quietly, absentmindedly rubbing a Thunderbird feather in his hand that flickered faintly with blue arcs of electricity. He remained silent for a moment.
Typical school bullying.
Slytherin truly lived up to its "reputation."
Speaking of which, Malfoy truly loved Quidditch. Did he simply want to remain on the team… or did he not want to lose this platform where he could compete against Harry?
Lucien suddenly asked a seemingly unrelated question.
"What is the most important requirement when selecting Quidditch team members?"
Malfoy was briefly stunned before instinctively replying,
"Flying skills, physical fitness, reaction speed…"
Lucien gave a slight nod.
During their previous flying lessons, he had already confirmed that Malfoy at least possessed decent flying talent and genuine enthusiasm for Quidditch. In that regard, he was not merely some rich kid with a temporary interest.
"Your position is Seeker."
Lucien looked at him calmly.
"Then based on your own judgment, among everyone currently eligible and willing to compete for the Slytherin Seeker position, where would you rank?"
Hearing this, Malfoy froze.
He had genuinely never considered the problem from that angle before.
"I…"
He hesitated.
"Actually, very few upper-year students still participate in Quidditch. On one hand, they're busy preparing for their O.W.L. and N.E.W.T. exams. On the other hand, anyone who truly wanted to join the team already has."
"And first-years aren't even eligible to join the team, so they don't count. It's unlikely another exception like Potter will suddenly appear…"
Following the train of thought Lucien had guided him toward, Malfoy continued analyzing aloud.
"So my actual competitors are mainly students from second to fourth year…"
Hogwarts did not have that many students to begin with, and Slytherin certainly was not the largest House.
Malfoy's thoughts rapidly ran through the names of his possible competitors.
His flying was agile, and his physique was well suited for the Seeker position.
Most importantly, the resources of the Malfoy family allowed him access to far more training, and much better training at that.
Although Slytherin was full of wealthy pure-blood families, not every pure-blood heir was passionate enough about Quidditch to personally play the sport.
Not to mention competing specifically for the position of Seeker, which demanded exceptionally high individual skill.
After thinking it through carefully, Malfoy realized that his ability as a Seeker was actually quite outstanding within Slytherin.
Seeing the growing light in Malfoy's eyes, Lucien knew he had understood. Only then did he speak calmly, his voice steady and confident.
"So instead of constantly using Galleons to buy yourself an unstable position, why not focus your efforts on continuously improving your own Quidditch skills?"
"As long as you become Slytherin's irreplaceable Seeker, as long as your House team still wants to win the Quidditch Cup, then it won't be you begging them. They'll have to beg you instead, because you'll be indispensable."
Lucien leaned forward slightly, a sharp glint flashing through his dark green eyes.
"After all, a Seeker can catch the Golden Snitch in a single match, instantly securing one hundred and fifty points and determining the outcome of the game. I don't need to explain how important that is, do I?"
Malfoy stood frozen in place.
The panic and resentment caused by Flint's intimidation gradually faded away, replaced by a new and far more solid ambition slowly taking root inside him.
...
Inside the Box World.
"Roar…"
Norbert's massive body lay sprawled across the ground, releasing a low, restrained growl.
Its pitch-black scales reflected a cold metallic sheen. Upon closer inspection, countless delicate golden patterns spread across the dark scales, faintly flickering in rhythm with Norbert's heavy breathing.
Standing beside the dragon, Lucien looked tiny by comparison.
His expression was focused as his wand lightly traced patterns through the air, remotely pointing toward specific locations along Norbert's spine and wings.
With every tap of the wand, nearly invisible ripples of magic spread outward from the tip, and the golden patterns lit up faintly in unison, as though responding to the spell.
"Relax, Norbert. Just one final step."
Lucien softly reassured the slightly restless dragon, his voice calm and steady.
He was using the Magic Weaving Technique to reorganize and optimize the dragon's innate magical pathways.
Once completed, Norbert's strength would surpass that of ordinary Norwegian Ridgebacks of the same species.
However, this final step was halted by a crucial material known as the "Heart of Divined Poison."
________
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