The series of duels went on until eleven o'clock at night, just before curfew.

  One by ohe Slytherin wizards stepped onto the stage, only to leave i, their spirits crushed.

  Was he a monster?! That Hawthorne?

  As Glenn ended duel after duel with absolute ease, the Slytherin students went from shock to disbelief, then to numbness. Finally, as they looked at the slender figure standing unshaken oage, a strange sense of admiration and respect began to rise in their hearts.

  It wasn’t because their senior students were weak. On the trary, Slytherin’s wizards were undoubtedly among the top in Hogwarts in terms of overall strength. Yet, even with their relentless efforts, they couldn’t make Glenn move a siep. Their spells couldn’t even graze his robes.

  And he was blindfolded!

  Was this really the Muggle-born they had imagined?

  The young Slytherins wore plicated expressions, their minds rag with thoughts.

  You’re just too weak, Glenn thought calmly. Even he hadn’t expected the bat abilities of these senior students to be so ckluster.

  Through this duel, Glenn gained a clearer uanding of his own strength. At the same time, he found himself puzzled by Hogwarts’ teag methods. The students’ practical bat experience was seriously g.

  Perhaps they had learned many spells in css. Some might have evely mastered advanced and plex magic. But when faced with real danger, Glenn believed they might not even be able to cast a det spell.

  This was the limitation of Glenn’s perspective. As someone who had spent his past life immersed in a world of killing and being killed, he had never let go of his vigince against hidden dangers around him. Only by stantly improving his strength could he feel slightly at ease. Especially now, with Voldemort and his followers still lingering in this world.

  His beliefs and mi were pletely different from those living in this “false era of peace.”

  How could delicate flrown in a greenhouse ever hope to tend with a beast that had crawled out of a sea of blood and bdes?

  He didn’t uand them, and they didn’t uand him.

  But he didn’t care about others. He only wao protect the small piece of tranquility around him.

  This level of dueling was even b to Hermione. Although her magic reserves were still far from those of the senior students, her bat awareness was far superior.

  At the very least, when she dueled Glenn, she could force him to actively dodge!

  The little girl felt smug, a proud smile appearing on her face as she unsciously raised her .

  “Let’s go. I’ll walk you back.” As Snape annouhe end of the duels and the crowd began to disperse, Glenn stepped off the stage and approached Hermione, who was curled up on the sofa.

  Little Hermio out a big yawn. She was so sleepy that she didn’t want to move at all.

  She wriggled slightly, just about to act spoiled, when Neville, who hadn’t left, walked over to Glenn.

  “Glenn, I have a favor to ask!” He hesitated for a moment, but his expression quickly turned resolute. The usual timidity was gone from his face, repced by a determined look, as if he had made up his mind.

  “ you teach me how to fight? I... I want to bee stronger!” He closed his eyes, ched his fists tightly, and shouted in a low voice.

  Under Glenn’s questioning gaze, Neville’s lips trembled.

  “I know I’m useless, that I have no talent fietimes, I even doubt if I’m truly a wizard. But... but I have an enemy I must defeat!” The usually timid Neville spoke of his enemy, his eyes now burning with rage.

  If Glenn could reach such a level at his age, then if Neville followed his methods, traihe way he did, he might at least grow stronger.

  Even a little stronger would be enough!

  He didn’t expect Glenn to devote his energy to guiding him. But if he could just follow Glenn, mimic his training, and experience what he had gohrough, he would be satisfied.

  Hermione, sitting on the sofa, heard the anger and a hint of hidden sorrow in Neville’s voice. She couldn’t hold back her for her friend and asked the question she had been wanting to ask, “Neville, what happeo you?”

  Neville’s angry eyes gradually turned red and watery. He struggled to hold back his tears, choking and hoarsely reting what had happeo his parents.

  His parents had been tortured into insanity by Beltrix Lestrange and a group of other Death Eaters. They no longer reized Neville or his grandmother and were still receiving treatment at St. Mungo’s Hospital fical Madies and Injuries!

  He wanted revenge! And for that, he rength!

  He was timid! But he wasn’t afraid of the hardships he would fa the process of being stronger!

  He knew he couldn’t learn how to fight against ruthless Death Eaters at Hogwarts. But today, seeing Glenn crush every Slytherin challenger with overwhelming domiirred something within him. It awakened a sense of intuition.

  He felt he could learn the skills, methods, and experience he needed from Glenn!

  Magic was ily a will-based force. The intense desire in Neville’s heart unsciously released a surge of magic. Perhaps it guided him, or perhaps it allowed him to glimpse a fragment of the future.

  Who could say?

  The little girl had red eyes. She couldn’t imagine her friend had endured such a tragic past.

  Neville... had he been living with such feelings all along?

  Hermione couldn’t fathom how this usually timid boy had been harb such a heavy burden in his heart.

  Glenn was also slightly moved. From Neville, he sensed a familiar feeling.

  He didn’t realize it, but this feeling was called anger.

  It was identical to the emotion he had felt two years ag that attack, whehought his parents had been killed.

  “So, Neville Longbottom, I assume you’re standing against Voldemort and his followers?” Glenn asked seriously after a moment of thought.

  Neville was clearly shocked by Glenn’s boldness in saying the name of the long-dead Dark Lord. But he quickly regained his posure and replied firmly, “Of course!”

  In that instant, Glenn sidered many things. He decided that training Neville was worth it.

  Firstly, Neville was one of Glenn’s few friends. By his own simple uanding, friends should help each other.

  Sedly, Neville was resilient. As someoh sharp instincts, Glenn could clearly sehe unyielding will hidden in Neville’s bones. He was someoh potential, capable of enduring the training Glenn would put him through.

  Lastly, Neville, as a member of a pure-blood family, had signifit influen the wizarding world. This could help Glenn leverage resources. Moreover, with his deep-seated grudge against the Death Eaters, Neville would undoubtedly stand firmly against Voldemort.

  sidering all this, Glenn decided to fulfill the boy’s wish to bee stronger and train him until he could face his enemies.

  He extended his right hand, shaking Neville’s hand seriously, leaving the boy stunned and overjoyed.

  “I accept your request.”

  Hermione brightened up. She had been worried Glenn might refuse. She knew all too well what kind of person Glenn was.

  She also khat while Glenn and Neville were friends, their bond wasn’t deep. After all, Glen almost all his time with her, studying magic, alchemy, and learning bat teiques from the professors. He had her the time nor the ination to manage his social retionships.

  Hermione now had many friends. Her perspective on friendship had pletely ged from before. She hoped Glenn would have more friends too.

  Well, male friends, that is. Male friends were fine. Female friends? No, the fewer, the better!

  Though she had fiden Glenn, the clever little girl would ake the risk of inviting trouble.

  Female friends? One was enough—herself! ?

  The three of them had different thoughts. Neville, excited, was about to say more when an untimely figure suddenly jumped out.

  “Glenn, how you help these Gryffindors learn how to fight? You’re a Slytherin!” The newer's voice trembled slightly, but he still decided to step forward and persuade Glenn.

  It was Draco.

  With Glenn and Hermione bag him, Neville shed his usual timid demeanor. He bravely stepped in front of the tw resolutely at the unkind Draco.

  Hermione also bared her teeth at Draco. She had no fondness for this pure-blood-obsessed boy.

  “Do you have a problem?” Glenn asked calmly. He had no particur opinion of Draaintainirality.

  The blond boy faltered, unsure how to respond.

  He struggled for a long moment before weakly replying, “They... they’re Gryffindors.”

  “So what if they’re Gryffindors?” Glenn stopped Hermione, who was about to explode, and tinued, “In my eyes, they’re no different from anyone else, whether they’re Slytherins or from the other houses.”

  Draco looked unvinced, as if he waue further. But before he could speak, Glenn tered, “What do you think about pure-bloods and Muggle-borns now?”

  Draco was stumped. He instinctively wao say, “Pure-bloods are superior,” but the words caught in his throat and refused to e out.

  He couldn’t bring himself to say something he now doubted, especially in front of Glenn.

  Draco couldn’t lie to himself.

  “It’s different…”

  “Is it?”

  “Slytherins be loyal and steadfast. Ravencws be ambitious. Hufflepuffs be brave. And Gryffindors... be inquisitive,” Glenn said, patting the little girl’s head.

  The little girl was happy to be praised and didn’t push his hand away.

  “They’re all the same,” Glenn cluded. He was simply expressing his own uanding. As far as he was ed, even if he had been sorted into a different house, he wouldn’t have ged.

  It was all the same.

  Draco fell silent, biting his lip.

  Finally, he unfolded his metaphorical map of Yan Kingdom.

  “Then I want to learn bat skills from you too.”

  “I refuse.”

  “Why?!? ”