章節 62: Chapter 37: How about you contemplate becoming my patron? Part 1
Moments later, the hall was cleared and prepared to give us a stage for our duel. The grand hall was vast, with tall marble columns lining the sides and banners of deep crimson and gold hanging from the walls. Ornate chandeliers cast a warm, flickering light, reflecting off the polished wooden floor. At the center, a raised platform served as our dueling stage, edged with intricate carvings depicting legendary battles.
I took my place at one end of the dueling platform. On the opposite side, an idiot with blonde hair stood, my robes are fluttering in a nonexistent breeze, and my eyes are glowing in a faint golden hue. Across from me stands my adversary, a certified idiot who believes himself invincible, and thinks he can off me today.
Lucius stared at me as if I am a dead man walking.
"Are you ready?" the duel overseer asked us both. I watched as Lucius pulled out his wand, adopting a fighting stance.
I looked around at the assembled spectators before slowly pulling out one of the daggers I had prepared for today. Embedded in my walking stick, the sleek black dagger slid free. Its blade, coated in runes and lethal poison, it glinted ominously under the chandelier's light.
The blade of the dagger was forged with three distinct edges, each designed to inflict a different curse upon making contact with my victim: a flesh-rotting curse, a bleeding curse, and a pain-numbing curse.
Anyone might wonder why I chose this particular combination. The reason is simple. The bleeding curse ensures that the blood flows freely, acting as both the primer and carrier for the other curses. The flesh-rotting curse serves as the primary damage dealer, eating away at the victim's body. Lastly, the pain-numbing curse creates a terrifying dissonance: watching your own flesh decay without feeling pain can paralyze you with fear, and it is amusing to watch when the victim realises what is going on, and panics.
As for how I obtained the metal, it involved my prior dealings with the goblins. They revealed the method to craft their famed metal to me, and did so with quite the happy attitude because I promised to help them in their little war. From a distance, it might appear as though I am holding a metal wand, which is precisely the illusion I want to create.
On a side note, it turns out the goblins stole the technique for making this metal from the dwarves, nearly driving them to extinction in the process of doing so. It looks like I have another race to save.
'I am such a great guy!' I think to myself. I mean, how else am I supposed to describe myself? It's the bare minimum I can use. If I go the full length, some idiots might start calling me a narcissist.
"Snape, I will kill you today!" Lucius declares, his voice dripping with malice.
I raise an eyebrow, looking at him questioningly. "What did you say?" I shout back, as I wasn't paying attention to the idiot.
"I said I will kill you!" he repeats, louder this time.
"I'm not hearing you, man! Speak up, idiot!" I shout, cupping my hand to my ear mockingly.
"I SAID I WILL BE KILLING YOU!" Lucius bellows, his face turning red with frustration upon realising that he replied to being an idiot.
"You're an idiot, right?" I call back, smirking.
"You're the idiot!" he retorts, his voice trembling with anger.
I shrug nonchalantly. "Only an idiot feels the need to announce that he's going to kill someone! We're here to duel, after all."
From the audience, a chuckle erupts. "Haha, the boy's got a point!" someone says, clearly amused.
I know pre-battle trash talk is a tradition, but why taunt someone I'm about to kill? It's pointless.
"Begin!" Orion, the overseer, finally announces. I wonder why this motherfucker is overseeing the duel.
Lucius lifts his wand, and through my future sight, I see the spell he's about to cast. A second later, he shouts, "Avada Kedavra!" and the green light of the Killing Curse flies towards me.
I tighten my grip on the dagger and sidestep the spell, letting it crash harmlessly into the wall behind me. "Wow! An Unforgivable from the get-go?"
I notice the people in the audience tense up, if they get hit they'll die immediatly, and so the weaker people move further away.
With a swift motion, Lucius unleashes a barrage of spells. I recognize each one: bone-breaking, flesh-rotting, and a dozen other nasty incantations. But what's the use if none of them can hit me? I dodge each spell effortlessly, sidestepping, ducking, and twisting with precision. As I move, I start whistling a peculiar tune.
It's a whistle reserved for those on the brink of committing murder—a haunting yet very catchy, and beautiful melody. To further irritate Lucius, I wave my hand, and phantom instruments join in, creating a relaxing symphony as I continue dodging his spells.
Lucius's frustration grows with every missed shot. The music swells, filling the hall with a chilling harmony, as I dance around his attacks, always one step ahead, my dagger gleaming ominously in the flickering light.
[A/N: The song is named Chill Bill if you want to listen to it. Most of you know it for sure, but some probably do not know it by name.]
"God damn it! Take the fight serious!" Lucius shouts annoyed at me.
"But I am not Sirus, I am Severus!" I reply with a deadpan face interruting my whisteling.
The whole audience looks shocked, well more because of my display of ability instead of my bad joke, but some probably did not expect the joke.
"BOMBARDA MAXIMA!" I hear the stupid prick shout, and I know this one is not dodgeable, but that is only after it lands while it flies it is just another spell, and so I ran towards the spell, and jump head frst over it rolling forward as the spell explodes behind me. Mid-roll, I willed my weapon to change. The dagger's hilt extended, transforming it into a long spear. I thrust it forward with around 1% of my full might.
Lucius raises just in time a shimmering shield, deflecting the spear with a loud screeching noise. Next he shoots another Avada Kedavra in retaliation. Meanwhile I have shrunk my weapon back to dagger level, I place my dagger in reverse grip and have it elongate itself, pushing me out of the way, just fast enough to dodge, but the force of the blast pushes me to the side for several steps.
"Haha isn't this fun, Lucius?" I ask him before I restart my whisteling as I have recovered, meanwhile I can see his eyes widening in fright.
'Seems like you have realized that this is all just a game to me!' I think amused, I twist my spear, and it once more reverts back to a dagger. I allow myself to fall forward, and use that to build momentum, and start sprinting towards Lucius, my dagger ready to strike. Lucius flicks his wrist, summoning a black snake to ensnare me.
"Well well well seems like you've learned to cast at least some spells wordless?" I say amused, but merely jump over the snake with a powerful leap, I avoided the snake, landing in front of Lucius. I slash with my dagger, merely grazing Lucius's arm. But suddenly I am attacked from within the audience.
"Haha Lord Malfoy, now now I thought this was supposed to be a duel!" I say amused, but internally I am prepared.
"So what?" Abraxas Malfoy spits out through gritted teeth.
"Haha the son is a failure, and the father has to discard his honour to save his sorry excuse for a son." Gramps's voice sounds from the other end of the hall, while he is holding a glass of wine.
"I say we stop here!" I hear Mister Slytherin's voice and glance over to see him standing next to Lord Black.
"Stop here?" I question, puzzled.
"Yes, there's no need to kill the scion of a proper Pureblood family just to prove a point. It's clear you've already won the duel," he says calmly, though I know he wouldn't come to my aid like this if our roles were reversed.
"Haha, well, I don't know why you want to prolong his suffering, but sure, be my guest!" I reply with a smirk, turning away. As I walk, the summoned snake attempts to attack me, but a single glance freezes it in its tracks, allowing me to pass without a second thought.
"What do you mean by prolong his suffering, brat?" I hear Abraxas shout after me.
"Huh?" I turn back, curious to see his reaction.
"My blade is magical! You didn't assume that it was just a simple weapon that can only extend and shorten, right? Naturally the edge's are cursed and poisoned! I doubt you'll save your imbecilic son's life unless you amputate his arm!" I retort, watching Abraxas's eyes widen in realisation, and his face drain of color.
He rushes to Lucius, who looks bewildered. When they roll up Lucius's sleeve, they see his arm already rotting up to the elbow, and a piece of blasked flash falls to the ground. Despite their desperate attempts at healing spells, nothing works.
The poison-curse combination is designed to act slowly, forcing the victim to eventually choose amputation out of panic, or simply prolong their desperation when they cannot amputate. Lucius screams in terror as the rot spreads, watching more pieces of his flesh blacken and fall away.
Abraxas staggers back, rage contorting his face.
'Idiots!' I think to myself, amused, as I hear Mister Slytherin mutter healing spells that only slow, not stop, the curse. Lucius screams louder, fear and pain gripping him as the poison and curse escalate.
'Seems, like he managed to lift the numbing curse! haha idiot that is the one you do not want to lift!' i think with a wide grin plastered on my face.
Desperate, Mister Slytherin resorts to incantations, even going as far as to reveal his Parseltongue. His shock is palpable when he realizes all his spells are useless.
"How...?" he begins, bewildered.
"Skill," I whisper, satisfied. "And a proper application of magic."
The hall falls silent, the earlier echoes of battle replaced by the panic of the small group. I clean my dagger and slide it back into my walking stick before leaving the platform.
Finally accepting my advice, they amputate Lucius's arm, his screams of agony piercing the air.
Meanwhile, I join Gramps and pour myself a drink.
"Well, that was certainly an interesting duel," Gramps remarks.
"Nah, it was boring," I reply casually.
"Why didn't you use magic?" he asks, curious.
"Because using magic that way is the dumbest way to wield power!" I retort.
"Is it?" he probes, aware others are listening in on our conversation.
"Absolutely! Most wizards can't sustain a prolonged battle with spells alone. A dozen spells tire out even the best. But with more training and a larger magical reservoir, you can use magic to enhance yourself, close the distance, and outlast any opponent," I explain.
"That sounds logical, but closing the gap isn't always so simple," Gramps counters.
"Haha, it can be very simple! Apparition makes it easy in most locations, but even without it, using enchanted weapons—like daggers with shield-breaking charms—lets you conserve energy for crucial moments against skilled foes! Or you go the extra mile by pumping magic into your own body rather than into outright changing reality." I argue, countering his skepticism with practicality.
"But Heir Prince, pumping magic into ones own body leads to mutation." a young woman says with some shocked as to what I said.
"It only does if you don't know the proper method, but if you do it is very easy, and has dozens of beneficial side effects." I reply.
"Such as?" the same woman asks again.
"Preserving ones beauty is one such side effect, prolonging ones life would be another one, and there are more." I reply while focusing on what the idiots are doing because by now they're done with the whole amputation.
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