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"Demonstration over! Now I will divide you into pairs. Professor Snape, if you would be so kind as to assist me..."
The hall instantly descended into chaos.
Rove was paired with a burly Slytherin student. The guy looked at the frying pan in Rove's hand with a mocking smile.
"Bringing kitchenware to a duel? Hufflepuffs really are useless eaters." The Slytherin raised his wand, his posture oozing arrogance. "Looks like I'll have to teach you what a wizard's battle is. Rictusempra!"
A beam of silver light shot straight at him.
> [Warning: Mental Interference Spell Detected]
> [Tactical Analysis: Unidirectional trajectory, lacks variation, casting motion too obvious]
> [Counter Strategy: Minas Tirith Shield Wall Tactic]
Rove flicked his left wrist, and the frying pan shielded his body like a steel buckler. Simultaneously, his right foot stepped back, sinking his center of gravity like an ancient tree taking root.
CLANG!
The silver light struck the bottom of the pan—which Rove had meticulously polished and coated with anti-magic grease—and ricocheted straight up to the ceiling, leaving a scorch mark on the gilded chandelier.
"What?!" The Slytherin student was stunned.
"First rule of the battlefield: Learn to raise your shield before you chant."
The next second, the wand in Rove's hand thrust forward sharply.
"Lumos!"
A ball of blinding light exploded instantly at the tip of his wand.
The Slytherin student instinctively squeezed his eyes shut and screamed, tears streaming down his face.
In that brief moment of blindness, Rove charged like a Ranger, closing the distance between them in two steps, his robes billowing.
"Staff-Sword Art: Percussion!"
Rove swung the frying pan in his left hand at a tricky angle, smacking the opponent's wand-wielding wrist.
"Ah!" The Slytherin cried out in pain, his wand flying from his hand.
Immediately after, Rove pressed down with the wand in his right hand, the tip stopping steadily just a centimeter from the opponent's throat.
> [Combat Ended]
> [Time Elapsed: 2.5 seconds]
> [Evaluation: That's right, fight like a true Maia. Magic is for clearing the path; steel is for finishing it.]
The Slytherin student stared pale-faced at the wand tip right in front of him, cold sweat pouring down, his Adam's apple bobbing.
"Once the wrist is disabled, you can't wave a wand. No matter how many profound spells you know, in that moment, you are just a lamb to the slaughter." Rove retracted his wand and frying pan, his movements fluid. "Remember, a wizard shouldn't be just a stationary turret."
By now, the surroundings were in total chaos. Green smoke filled the air; people were screaming, dancing, and trying to turn transformed mice back into their friends.
Rove quickly scanned the area, searching for Harry. On this chaotic battlefield, protecting the Ring-bearer was his primary mission.
He saw Harry and Malfoy standing in the center of the stage, the crowd automatically clearing a space around them.
"Since we're already dueling," Malfoy panted heavily, clearly having gained no advantage in the practice just now, his face flushed with anger and embarrassment, "then take a look at this!"
He raised his wand, eyes malicious, and shouted: "Serpensortia!"
With a loud bang, a long black snake shot out from the tip of his wand, landing heavily on the floor between them, then reared its head, flickering its tongue, ready to attack.
Rove's pupils constricted instantly, his heart skipping a beat.
In his System vision, the black snake's figure was magnified infinitely. Its black scales became hard armor, its faint hissing turned into a deafening roar, and hellfire burned in its yellow eyes.
> [Warning! Warning!]
> [High-Risk Creature Detected: Juvenile Smaug / Vanguard of the Dark Lord]
> [Race: Fallen Dragonkind]
> [Threat Level: Red (Extremely Dangerous)]
> [Description: A Dragon is the symbol of Emperors!]
"Dragon!" Rove shouted subconsciously, his voice cracking with fear and rage. "That is the descendant of an evil dragon! Harry! Run! Don't look into its eyes!"
He wanted to rush over, but the panicked, crowded mass of people blocked him like a thick wall.
Snape walked over slowly, a hint of amusement in his eyes: "Don't move, Potter, I'll get rid of it..."
"Allow me!" Lockhart, desperate to regain the face he lost earlier, shouted and rushed forward. He raised his wand and waved it at the snake. "Alarte Ascendare!"
Bang!
The snake was thrown high into the air, then smashed heavily onto the ground. The enraged black snake hissed furiously. It ignored Harry and turned its head, slithering toward the nearest crowd.
Justin Finch-Fletchley stood there, frozen in terror, unable to move a muscle.
The black snake reared its head, fangs glinting in the candlelight, poised to strike.
"No!" Rove pushed through the blocking crowd, his frying pan raised, ready to throw. "Justin! Get down!"
But he was too far away; he wouldn't make it in time.
At that moment, Harry moved.
He took a bewildered step forward, his eyes becoming empty and dazed, and opened his mouth at the snake.
A strange, hair-raising hissing sound came from Harry's mouth. It didn't sound like something a human could produce—cold, slimy, carrying an ancient and evil pressure.
But in Rove's ears, it wasn't hissing at all.
The world seemed to turn grey-white in that moment. The surrounding noise vanished, leaving only that voice echoing in his mind.
It was a whisper from the abyss of Mordor, the dark inscription carved on the inside of the One Ring, the forbidden language chanted by Sauron when he forged the Ring in Mount Doom.
> [Black Speech Detected]
> [Translation: Ash nazg durbatulûk... (One Ring to rule them all...)]
> [Translation: Ash nazg gimbatul... (One Ring to find them...)]
The originally berserk black snake seemed to hear its master's command. It became docile instantly, coiling on the ground, no longer attacking Justin.
But in Rove's eyes, this was ten thousand times more terrifying than an attack.
This meant Harry was already using the power of the Ring. He was communicating with the darkness, even commanding dark creatures.
Rove's heart sank to the bottom of the abyss. The frying pan in his hand fell to the ground with a clang.
The surrounding students looked at Harry in horror, as if looking at a monster. Justin's face turned green with fright; he turned and ran out of the hall.
Harry looked up, clarity returning to his eyes, staring blankly at Justin's retreating back. "What's going on with him?"
Rove stood in the crowd, feeling cold all over.
The current Harry, in his System vision, was shrouded in a thick black mist that formed the shape of a giant, burning eye.
> [Warning: Ring-bearer Sanity Decreasing]
> [Current Status: Corroded by Darkness]
> [Prophecy: If not stopped, he will become the new Witch-king of Angmar]