Hogwarts: I can load entries infinitely!

"Difficult brat!"

Voldemort gritted his teeth and attacked more fiercely.

His wide open and close movements were completely defenseless, and he was obviously confident that he could ignore any damage.

Every time he swung his staff, he carried an absolutely suppressive momentum.

To be honest, although he was at a disadvantage, Devereux actually saw that when Voldemort used the Death Curse, well, there were some substandard movements.

"Wait, Voldemort,"

He shouted while rolling around in embarrassment to avoid the incoming death curse.

"There's something wrong with the way you cast the spell."

Voldemort's face instantly darkened, and the wand in his hand emitted an even stronger green light, heading straight for Devero.

However, Devereaux made a beautiful roll and once again managed to avoid it.

"No joke!"

Devero gasped, standing behind a pillar of transfiguration-animated stone.

"The rotation of your wrist is too stiff! Swinging the wand like this will waste part of the efficiency of magic flow. Besides, your pronunciation... is this how you pronounce 'Avada'? It's a bit perfunctory!"

Voldemort stopped and stared at Devereaux with eyes as sharp as a hawk.

"Devereaux Alexander!"

His voice was low and threatening.

"Are you mocking the greatest wizard in the dark arts?"

Devereux poked his head out from behind the stone pillar and said seriously.

"No, to be honest, I just hope you can have some professionalism. Look, my death curse, the spell is clean and smooth, and it is much more efficient, don't you think?"

As he spoke, Devereux's wand suddenly raised, and a precise green beam shot out, directly grazing Voldemort's shoulder and flying past, hitting the wall of the secret room and exploding into a ball of dark green fire.

Voldemort's expression changed from angry to furious.

He slowly raised his wand, and as soon as the spell came to his mouth, it stopped again.

"Devereux,"

He stared at the young wizard in front of him with a strange tone in his tone.

"Do you think you can gain an advantage by irritating me?"

Devereaux shrugged and raised the corners of his mouth with a playful smile.

"No, I just think that as an old enemy, being able to help you improve your combat level is also a kind of...how should I put it? It's the instinct of an educator."

Voldemort's expression turned completely dark.

He waved his wand violently, and the gravel on the floor of the secret room immediately transformed into sharp arrows, all of which shot towards Devero.

"It seems that my professionalism is enough to shut you up!"

Devero rolled dangerously to avoid a wave of attacks, and once again blocked a deadly arrow with the help of his super armor.

He took a breath, wiped the dust from his face with his sleeve, and suddenly laughed.

"Well, Voldemort, it seems you are determined to become an unqualified wizard."

Voldemort had completely lost his patience, the anger on his face almost turned into substance, and he roared and continued to wave his wand.

"Shut up, Devereaux! You say one more word and I'll tear you to pieces!"

Devero dodged and activated a stone on the ground to block the flying death curse, but he was still unforgiving.

"Really, Voldemort, there is an art to casting spells. Do you want to consider hiring me as a consultant? My fees are not expensive, and I promise to teach you!"

Voldemort's roar was punctuated by the chanting of more spells.

Devereux's eyes became sharp, and he quickly analyzed the current situation in his mind.

Although Voldemort's [Unique Entry] made his body immune to the threat of the death curse, it did not seem to bring a significant increase in attack power.

In other words, the core of this ability lies in defensive suppression.

"If my attack cannot break through the defense, then use another one with the same level of power."

Devereux whispered to himself, various possibilities flashed through his mind, and he finally settled on a plan...

His wand was raised high, and the purple-black magic condensed into a vortex-like energy field in the air.

With a low roar, a strong purple-black gas spurted out from the tip of the wand, quickly attacking Voldemort like a living poisonous snake.

This gas exudes a strange and dangerous aura, as if it can swallow all life force.

——

The water cup in Mesferos's hand made a crisp sound, and the liquid almost spilled.

His movements froze, and his eyes quickly glanced at the bronze mirror. The picture inside made him stunned for a moment.

"This kid..."

Mesferos murmured to himself, then put down the cup and approached the bronze mirror, with deep doubts and a bit of concealed amazement in his eyes.

His fingers tapped on the frame involuntarily, as if trying to confirm whether what he saw was real.

"Do you want to...?"

"Oh!"

Mesferos finally couldn't help but chuckle, followed by a burst of happy applause, and the sound of slapping palms echoed in the room.

This kid is so daring to fight, hehe, he is really a genius.

In this duel, it can only be said that Voldemort has lost.

At this time, he was able to think of borrowing the power of God, and he could learn it just by seeing the spell once.

"Okay, boy, if you want it, I'll give it to you."

——

Voldemort sneered, his expression still arrogant, and allowed the purple-black gas to touch his body.

But the moment the gas came into contact, his smile froze, his eyes narrowed slightly, and then he waved the wand violently.

The strong offensive came to an abrupt end, and he used a howling hurricane to disperse the strange gas.

"What... is this?"

Voldemort's voice was low and a little alert, and he looked down at his robe.

I saw a corroded hole on the smooth black robe, and the edge was emitting charred marks.

And his skin, although recovering at a speed visible to the naked eye, did have slight burns.

At that moment, Voldemort's face completely sank.

Even with the blessing of the Fountain of Life, that gas could actually cause him actual harm in a short period of time.

This power was not only weird, but also extremely dangerous, as if it could temporarily suppress his recovery ability.

"What curse did you use?"

Voldemort slowly raised his head, with a hint of uneasiness in his tone that was difficult to conceal, and his cold eyes were fixed on Deveraux.

But at this time, Deveraux showed a playful smile at the corner of his mouth.

He stood up and held the wand tightly, but a series of crisp prompt sounds rang in his mind:

[Ding! ]

[New entry: Curse of Anubis (white)! ]

[New entry: Power of Decay (white)! ]

A hint of pride flashed in Deveraux's eyes. He shook the wand lightly, and the purple-black gas quietly gathered around him again, like a venomous snake waiting for an opportunity.

Sure enough, you can gain power by using the Decay Curse!

Okay, dear Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, this is the greatest help you can give Deveraux!

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