"Ah?"
The little wizard being tied up finally showed a trace of panic on his face. As the magic runes ascended from the ground, he started to visibly melt into a puddle of sludge.
Regarding this.
The young Albus Dumbledore did not feel surprised. He seemed to have already known that Ian, who he had battled with, was not the true Ian, and remained calm and composed.
Clearly.
The young Albus Dumbledore pretended not to see through it for a reason.
He saw, along the path Dumbledore previously walked, mysterious runes began to float up from the ground. These runes shimmered with a deep glow, like the brightest stars in the night sky, or the magical symbols recorded in ancient literature. They were arranged intricately, forming a complex and mysterious pattern.
Emitting a powerful magic fluctuation.
The young Albus Dumbledore turned to look towards an inconspicuous corner.
There.
The sand on the ground was stirring.
"Just like my earlier assessment of you, you little brat are really cunning and devious." He watched a disheveled figure crawling out from the sand.
"I was hidden eighteen meters underground, yet you still found me!?" Ian was extremely frustrated. He shook off the sand on his body without retrieving his magic wand from his waist.
"Your transformation technique can bestow magic power on inanimate objects, which is truly a talent that makes one envy." The young Albus Dumbledore also put away his magic wand at this moment.
His tone was earnest, indeed carrying a hint of admiration.
"Useless, you still got me out."
Ian sighed helplessly.
"Compared to my eyes, I trust my intuition more. I must say, your exceptional skills truly amazed me, though, unfortunately, your control over magic power is not as meticulous as mine."
"Of course, it's not your fault, you clearly haven't delved into magic for long, and I can imagine, simply with your overpowering magic power, you're nearly unbeatable." The young Albus Dumbledore spoke first with a thoughtful tone, then looked at the puddle of mud that Ian's stand-in had become.
"The one thing I can't understand is, you already possess overwhelming magic power, why did you develop such a combat style? This truly baffles me."
The young Albus Dumbledore's expression turned somewhat peculiar.
"Cautiousness is never wrong; as someone born and bred in England, you probably don't understand that, without the ability to fight against the world single-handedly, people like me will always exercise enough caution." Ian's soul did not belong to this land, so the philosophy he adhered to was evidently not easily understood by most of the people from this land.
The young Albus Dumbledore simply chuckled lightly upon hearing this.
"Then your caution clearly hasn't reached the necessary level." His gaze carried a sense of profound meaning, and also an implication that made Ian's scalp numb with a sudden sense of danger.
"Cough, cough, let's not say it out loud, we're still good brothers." Ian's expression was quite awkward, to be honest, ever since adopting this combat style, this was the first time someone truly found his real body.
"Do you concede?"
The young Albus Dumbledore asked with a smile.
"Of course not."
The little wizard responded without hesitation.
"Oh?"
This was somewhat unexpected for the young Albus Dumbledore.
"Still have a trump card?"
He curiously examined Ian.
"Isn't it just the forbidden magic domain? I'm very familiar with this." Ian glanced around at the magic runes on the ground, he felt somewhat sentimental realizing others also love studying this kind of thing.
The collapse of his "stand-in", and his embarrassing crawl from underground, were all because the domain created by some kind of ritual sealed the function of magic power.
If not.
He would have emerged with a much more impressive demeanor...
"My magic power can't function well, and neither can yours, rounding it up a bit, the competition now is truly fair." Ian tidied his hair that would shed sand even with a slight shake.
"Seems like you really have studied such rituals, well, it's quite reasonable, however, given you know the current situation, I suppose you haven't forgotten my identity?"
The young Albus Dumbledore smiled radiantly.
"You have many identities, which one are you referring to?"
The little wizard was not nervous.
He watched as the youth opposite him lifted his robe.
"Of course, it's the identity that I'm most proud of at this moment... Brat, let me introduce myself, I am Albus Dumbledore... from Gryffindor College."
Speaking of which.
This handsome youth then shamelessly drew out a sparkling longsword, though not Gryffindor's Sword, from the sharp edge and ornate design, it was evident it was crafted by a master.
The sword's edge was sharp, chillingly cold.
"I said, I won."
Dumbledore gripped the sword handle tightly, arm muscles slightly bulged, showcasing his hidden strength.
The longsword in his hand seemed to have taken on life, its tip lightly trembled, seeming to respond to its owner's will, it began swiftly to close in on Ian's neck accompanied by the actions of its owner.
This was Albus Dumbledore's little-known swordsmanship and the reason Albus Dumbledore dared to forgo magic; when unable to defeat Ian with magic power, he opted for the strategy most advantageous to himself.