Hermes glanced at the strange-looking object in Regulus's hand, feeling dismissive.
He acknowledged the importance of foundational magic and admitted that Regulus's fundamentals were terrifyingly solid.
But he stubbornly believed that in real combat, the key to victory lay in having powerful magic that could instantly decide life or death.
The tricks taught in Transfiguration and Charms class were nothing more than fancy juggling acts in the face of real Dark Arts.
He couldn't see the point of Regulus's current practice, nor could he comprehend the terrifying potential represented by that microscopic reconstruction of a substance's essence—a potential on an entirely different level.
In his view, it was just making a stone harder or brighter. What practical use was that?
In a duel, would you use a hardened stone to hit someone?
Absurd.
He ignored Avery's attempt to signal him with his eyes to be quiet, deliberately making his footsteps heavier.
He walked to his bed, placing an old book with a blank cover heavily on the nightstand with a dull "thud."
The sound was particularly jarring in the quiet dormitory.
This dull thud finally pulled Regulus completely out of his deep thought and practice.
He slowly dissipated the magic around the graphite, and the stone returned to its original form, falling back onto the desk.
He looked up, his grey eyes calmly turning towards Hermes, the source of the noise.
"Something the matter?" Regulus's voice betrayed no emotion.
Hermes turned around, leaning against his bedpost, his face wearing its usual gloom and a faint hint of provocation.
"Nothing. Just thinking it's a shame some people spend their time on… flashy tricks with no substance.
Real power doesn't come from molding stones into different shapes."
His words were clearly targeted. Avery frowned, while Alex nervously lowered his head.
Regulus looked at Hermes and said slowly, "Your understanding of power is too extreme and too narrow.
You only see the superficial aspects of destruction and pain, failing to see the power inherent in the fundamental rules that constitute this world itself.
As for knowledge…"
He shook his head. "You probably don't know that the wizard widely recognized as the most powerful in the magical world today, Albus Dumbledore, is a master of Transfiguration at its peak."
Hermes's face stiffened slightly. Of course, he knew Dumbledore's name, but as a young wizard obsessed with the Dark Arts, he had never delved into what Dumbledore specifically excelled at.
"And," Regulus stood up, his wand somehow already slipping into his hand.
He happened to need a subject to test a certain idea he'd just had, and Hermes's appearance and attitude provided the perfect opportunity.
"You seem to have a low opinion of my magic. Coincidentally, I also think your magic isn't much to speak of."
Before his words finished, his wand was already raised, pointing at Hermes.
Hermes instantly became alert, immediately wanting to draw his wand to defend or counterattack.
But Regulus's actions were faster, or rather, the way his magic took effect was unconventional.
No flash, no sound effect, nothing at all.
Hermes just suddenly felt the act of breathing he was engaged in come to an abrupt halt.
The breath he was inhaling, the moment it entered his mouth and nose, seemed to lose all its breathable properties.
It was like inhaling something utterly useless, unable to interact with any function of the lungs, unable to provide the slightest oxygen.
His eyes widened, his mouth agape, trying to breathe harder, but his chest felt no satisfaction from rising and falling, only a deepening, suffocating panic.
He wanted to speak, to demand an explanation, but no sound came out. He wanted to raise his wand, but his brain, starved of oxygen, began to swim, and his arm grew heavy.
Moreover, he couldn't perform non-verbal spells.
He looked at Regulus in terror. The other just held his wand calmly, without any extra movement, his gaze not looking at a living being.
This was precisely an extension of Regulus's earlier thoughts.
He hadn't performed a complex elemental transformation—at his current level, that would be too slow.
What he did was simpler and more brutal: no specific goal, just a definition.
Through non-directional Transfiguration, Regulus used powerful magic to instantly intervene, forcibly transfiguring the gases in that area into something unbreathable.
He just cast the spell; the rest he left to magic.
This was more feasible at his current stage than directly transforming oxygen into poison, as he didn't intend to kill.
Avery watched from the side, his eyes gleaming. He didn't understand the intricacies, wasn't even sure if it was Dark Arts, but that didn't stop his gaze towards Regulus from growing even more fervent.
Not understanding made it seem even more advanced!
Meanwhile, Alex was already pale with fright, his hands tightly covering his mouth, afraid to make a single sound.
He never imagined that the dormitory, which he'd just thought was improving, would suddenly witness such a terrifying scene.
First-years!
This wasn't a mere clash between classmates; this was… the prelude to murder.
He watched Hermes's face turn from red to blue, his eyes bulging, his body beginning to twitch involuntarily, his heart filled with fear.
Hermes's inner terror reached its peak.
He couldn't breathe, couldn't cast spells; his magic, amidst the agony and panic of suffocation, was difficult to gather.
He felt he was about to die. The cold shadow of death had never felt so real, so enveloping.
He desperately wondered, what kind of magic was this?
Silent, without a trace, its method of action so bizarre, directly stripping away the fundamentals of life!
This had to be some extremely evil and profound Dark Arts!
He had lost, utterly and completely, not even understanding the means his opponent had used.
Time ticked by. After about half a minute, Hermes's struggles began to weaken, his eyes starting to glaze over.
Even Avery, initially excited, now had cold sweat beading on his forehead.
Though he admired power, he also knew the boundaries.
Killing a classmate at school, even someone from the Mulciber family, would absolutely be immense trouble. It would ruin everything.
He opened his mouth, wanting to beg Regulus to stop, but looking at Regulus's absolutely calm, even utterly sane eyes, he swallowed his words.
Subconsciously, he felt Regulus wouldn't do it.
Someone so calm and rational, whose every step seemed calculated, wouldn't kill someone at school over a verbal spat.
Just as Hermes was about to lose consciousness completely, Regulus gave his wrist a slight flick, withdrawing his magic.
"Haaa—!!!"
Hermes lunged forward, collapsing, hands on the floor, gasping greedily like a bellows, accompanied by violent coughing, tears and snot streaming, looking utterly wretched.
He gasped for over a minute before barely recovering, looking up at Regulus with bloodshot eyes filled with fear and disbelief.
Regulus had already put away his wand, looking down at him, asking in a flat tone, "Now, what do you think of Transfiguration?"
He offered no explanation of his method, letting him guess, fear, and ponder the source of this invisible, intangible, yet deadly threat.
Hermes lay paralyzed on the floor, his body still trembling slightly from the aftermath of fear.
His mind was in chaos.
Transfiguration?
How could that be?!
Transfiguration made him unable to breathe?
It completely subverted his understanding of Transfiguration!
But if not Transfiguration, then what was it?
No evil aura of Dark Arts, no cold feeling of a curse… The unknown brought deeper fear.
He realized he couldn't see through Regulus Black at all.
Not only was the other's foundational strength overwhelming, but he also seemed to possess magical methods he couldn't comprehend, couldn't even categorize.
Such methods were impossible to guard against.
Avery let out a sigh of relief, followed by a surge of even stronger pride and determination to follow.
*See!*
*This is the person I chose to follow! Powerful, clear-headed, with unfathomable methods!*
Then he began thinking, how would he counter this move if he faced it?
Cast the Bubble-Head Charm on himself beforehand?
Or maintain a protective spell at all times?
That was too passive!
Alex also sighed in relief, but his legs were still weak.
Looking at Hermes paralyzed on the floor and the calm Regulus, he deeply realized who the real danger in this dormitory was.
He silently decided to be even more cautious with his words and actions, absolutely not provoking Regulus.
Regulus paid no mind to his roommates' varied thoughts.
He walked back to his desk and sat down, his internal reflections not stopping.
The recent practice confirmed one of his hypotheses: tampering with the omnipresent fundamental substances in the environment was indeed a blind spot for many wizards and a highly promising direction for attack.
But what if he went a step further?
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