Chapter 53 The Headless Troll
"Hmph, since you want to see, then watch." A thought flashed through his mind.
Basil stepped forward, raising his wand above his brow.
A blackish-red murky current swirled around the wand.
The magical magnetic field also began to rotate.
The troll had already reached the door.
The clear, sky-like killing intent that Riddle had envisioned was now realized in Basil.
Concealed beneath the murky current. He
gently closed his eyes.
The troll was photographed.
Its clumsy posture, peeking out with its wooden stick, appeared in the [Spellbook].
*Whoosh!
* Gem: 27261.985 (-2000)
Inscription begins.
Summoning card [Troll] created.
This also signifies its impending death.
Not a second had passed.
Without checking the card or paying attention to the information in his mind,
relying on the Hogwarts stereoscopic perspective in his mind, the wooden door seemed to disappear, and the troll's bald little head appeared before him.
If relying solely on normal attacks, its single-hit damage would be 13.
Without using the [True Word Appraiser] and without inflicting 50% true damage,
facing a giant monster harder than rock and with high health might be nothing.
Even attacking its weak points, its most vulnerable head, should be the same.
But now, at this moment,
the killing intent hidden deep within him, surged with his 'magic power,' spreading to his nerve endings.
An inexplicable certainty and confidence surfaced in his heart.
He stepped forward and swung his right arm.
Rumble!
The wooden door burst open with a large hole, its edges charred and sparking.
Gray, white, green, and red sauces, along with steaming bits of meat, splattered onto the walls,
emitting a stench mixed with the aroma of roasted meat.
The wooden club and the headless giant crashed to the ground.
The entire floor seemed to shake slightly.
In the principal's office, a voice from the silver mirror rang out, "Truly decisive. It's a pity he didn't use that demonic net. I heard he even used it to kill a werewolf?"
Dumbledore adjusted his glasses. "No, it was an ancient, powerful redwood that did the killing. It was ordinary, but it possessed magic, if a Muggle also…"
However, the last part of his voice was a whisper.
Even Nick Flamel, using a more advanced two-way mirror, couldn't hear him clearly.
"What did you say?"
Dumbledore smiled. "I'm saying that the boy's magical field just now shifted. He didn't use the magic of a great wizard. Instead, he transformed what ordinary wizards call magic into a more heterogeneous conceptual existence. It wasn't a spell that shattered the troll's head. He simply swung his arm, wielding that conceptual existence like a sword."
He closed his eyes, and a divine, benevolent magical field, like a phoenix rising from the ashes, began to emerge from his body. It
was as if a magnificent, holy phoenix had descended upon them.
The phoenix Fawkes uttered a melodious cry from a golden branch. The image in the condenser began to blur. The signal from the remarkably stable two-way mirror, crafted by Nicolas Flamel, one of the greatest alchemists of all time, began to fluctuate. In an instant, all the exquisite silverware in the office lost its function. Crackling and popping sounds erupted around Dumbledore. His silver beard and the ends of his hair playfully curled up. The silverware in the room finally resumed functioning. The voice from the two-way mirror finally became clear, filled with curiosity. "You just failed?" Dumbledore didn't bother to tidy his appearance. He didn't lose his composure, calmly accepting his failure. "Yes. It was all the same. But I got stuck at the last step. What was it?" he said, standing up. Without waving his wand, the condenser automatically shut off, and the silver mirror slowly flew towards the cabinet. His curled beard and hair automatically straightened as he walked towards the office door.
Just as the silver mirror was about to enter the cabinet, his voice fell.
"I have to go. I'm the headmaster, and this is such a big deal."
Finally, the cabinet and door closed simultaneously, making a sound that overlapped, like a fist slamming onto a table.
In the bathroom.
Ron clutched half a chicken leg tightly in his hand, vomiting all over the floor.
Harry covered his nose.
Hermione tugged at Basil's sleeve, her face turned to the side, trembling slightly.
Basil stared at the wand in his hand, unable to believe that he had just smashed the troll's head with a single blow.
Especially considering the data of the summon card [Troll] that appeared in his mind.
[Fantastic Creature: Mountain Troll - Magical Transformation]
[Magic Cost: 6]
[Level: 1]
[Summon a slow-moving, magically transformed mountain troll with high magic resistance. When an enemy unit appears in the current field of vision.] [ The troll attacks by swinging a wooden club]
[Rock Armor (excluding head): 10]
[Note: Ignore damage below 3 points, damage of 4 points and above is deducted]
[Rock Armor (head): 3]
[Life Points: 30]
[Magic Resistance: 7]
[Damage per swing: 27]
[Movement Speed: Slow]
[Spellbook Level: 3 (1100/400)]
This card, besides unusually mentioning the concept of magic resistance, also displays armor, i.e., physical defense.
The life points in this system are calculated based on physiological structure.
Therefore, even if he attacks the head, the troll's weak point, the damage to take the troll's life should be at least 3 + 30.
If it is pure spell damage, magic resistance must also be considered, which is 40.
Unless Basil uses a Killing Curse, directly attacking the life bar.
Moreover, he not only took the troll's life but also blasted the troll's head.
The damage is obviously excessive.
Although Basil used [Dragon Knight],
the troll is not a dragon and does not have a 150% amplification.
"So it's a critical hit, plus a critical damage amplification? 'Your spell will be filled with the power of the red dragon, a fiery burst of power!' It also includes attack power?"
Basil didn't think too much about it.
He could ask the system spirit directly later.
And suddenly!
A violent banging on the door and loud footsteps came.
The four people in the room looked up.
It was Professor McGonagall, followed closely by Snape and Quirrell.
They appeared beside the broken wooden door and the headless corpse of the troll.
"What kind of tricks are you playing?" Professor McGonagall said, her voice filled with icy anger.
Her lips were pale, and her body was trembling.
Snape squatted down with interest, examining the huge wound on the troll's neck without any hesitation.
Quirrell narrowed his eyes, looking Basil up and down.
But his eyes were filled with pity, and a sense of empathy.
And a subtle fear.
It was clear that he seemed to regard Basil as one of his own, a pitiful wretch also targeted by Voldemort, unable to escape, and given greater power than before.
The young Dark Lord is so powerful, what should he do?
Unlike Harry, Ron, and Hermione, who were momentarily speechless,
Basil was quite self-righteous.
He was even a little angry, "Isn't Hogwarts the safest place? Why is there a troll? Hermione was in the bathroom the whole time! Didn't any of you professors notice?"
He grew angrier as he spoke.
"This afternoon, everyone knew she was here!"
"But as soon as there was danger, they forgot about her!"
He squeezed out a few tears, "If it weren't for... if we hadn't thought to bring Hermione some food, maybe... she would have been the one without a head!"
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(End of Chapter)