41-45

Chapter 41: The Counterattack Begins Now

Before Harry could make it to the Quidditch pitch, Professor McGonagall forcefully insisted he eat two pieces of chocolate.

As Hogwarts’ official Quidditch commentator, Lee Jordan was both highly professional and hilariously entertaining.

Especially when Slytherin tied the score at 20-20, Lee’s remark, “Is this the start of the counterattack?” almost made Luke think Lee might have been a time traveler too.

Unfortunately for Slytherin, they couldn’t pull off the counterattack after all—since the Savior, Harry Potter, was an unparalleled Seeker.

Lee wrapped up the game with a flourish, declaring: “Gryffindor’s Harry Potter swallowed the Golden Snitch like a toad, earning Gryffindor 150 points. Game over! The winner is Gryffindor!” Following that game, Hogwarts began importing higher-quality Golden Snitches.

Classic, nothing wrong with that.

There was a bit of drama during the match: halfway through, Harry’s broomstick went out of control, jerking wildly until it seemed like his brain might turn to mush. Luckily, it soon stabilized. Luke glanced toward Snape and wasn’t surprised—Hermione, that audacious little beaver, had set the professor’s robes on fire.

Poor Snape. That black cloak of his was his only one, a gift from Lily.

The man was left shivering in distress.

Right after the match, the “Golden Trio” rushed over to find Luke. Seeing Catherine by his side, they hesitated, starting and stopping their words.

“It seems your little animal companions have some private matters to discuss,” Catherine teased with a raised eyebrow. “Perfect timing—I’ve got some errands to run. See you tonight in the Slytherin common room.”

“Alright.”

Luke appreciated her respectfulness. He thought of his ex-girlfriend from his past life—just getting her not to throw tantrums felt like divine intervention. Understanding and respect? Never heard of it.

Catherine, with her sharp tongue and queenly demeanor, was unexpectedly endearing.

Once Catherine left, Hermione anxiously glanced around to ensure no one was nearby before blurting, “During the match, Professor Snape was cursing Harry’s broomstick!”

Luke stifled his laughter, deciding not to clear Snape’s name.

Let them keep misunderstanding; Snape already bore enough burdens. As the saying goes, “When the debt is heavy, what’s another penny?”  

The man deserved to stay hidden in the shadows, his contributions unsung.

Leading the trio to a secluded spot, Luke said, “Let’s go somewhere quiet to talk.”

The autumn wind of the Scottish Highlands bit through the air, swirling fallen leaves around them. Luke tightened his coat and wrapped his scarf snugly around his neck, attempting to stay warm.

“Now, tell me, what exactly happened?” He adjusted his clothing and turned to the eager trio.

“It was Snape—Professor Snape! We saw him cursing Harry’s broomstick. When I set his robes on fire, Harry’s broom returned to normal,” Hermione said, rapid-fire like a machine gun. Despite her speed, every word was clear—she could easily win a Grammy for spoken word.

Well, maybe not. She was a proper Englishwoman, not some transgender, Black, Islamic convert racking up diversity points.

Without those buffs, it’d be tough to win international recognition.

Thankfully, this was still an era where certain "buffs" didn’t count for much in the West.

“I’m inclined to believe the head of Slytherin, but Hermione’s account can’t be entirely dismissed,” Luke mused, tapping his arm rhythmically. “If you ask for my opinion, I’d say that, considering the complexity of Hogwarts, evaluating the situation from a historical and institutional perspective, one might reasonably conclude Hermione’s claims hold some merit. But, summarizing all factors, we currently lack sufficient evidence to substantiate her conclusions. Therefore, for now, we can only make assumptions.”

As expected, the trio looked utterly confused, their eyes spinning like cartoon spirals.

For culturally deprived Harry and Ron, deciphering Luke’ long sentences was asking far too much.

Kudos to the British magical world’s excellent matchmaking system.

Hermione, while understanding every word, realized something horrifying: she couldn’t grasp their combined meaning.

“So... do you think Professor Snape was trying to harm Harry?” Hermione asked, now uncertain of her own judgment.

Under their expectant gazes, Luke slowly nodded. “Yes.”

Their faces lit up, but his next words crushed their joy.

“And no.”

Luke shrugged, grinning. “Sometimes, things aren’t as straightforward as they seem. A villain isn’t necessarily the one glaring at you every day. A true enemy might lurk in the shadows, waiting for the perfect moment to strike when you’re at your weakest.”

The trio pondered his words. Satisfied, Luke continued, “Of course, I’m not dismissing your opinions. My best advice is for you to keep your own judgments. Don’t let me sway you.”

After all that, they realized they’d gotten nowhere.

“I’ve figured out who the culprit is!” Ron exclaimed with a triumphant look.

“Oh? Who?” Hermione asked, intrigued by Ron’s sudden confidence.

“It’s Dumbledore—ow!” Ron yelped as Hermione delivered a swift karate chop to his head.

“What was that for? Ow!” he whined, clutching his head and squawking like a chicken.

“Well then... if there’s nothing else, I’ll be on my way,” Luke said, turning to leave before spinning back around. “Oh, one more thing—help me find George and Fred. It’s Catherine’s birthday today, and I want to surprise her.”

Yes, Catherine’s birthday was November 2nd, a fact Dumbledore had let slip as a bonus for a certain check Luke had handed over.

Luke couldn’t help but think, If I hadn’t paid up, were you just going to let me miss this? After everything I’ve done for Hogwarts?  

What a betrayal.

(End of Chapter)  

Chapter 42: Your Cat Made You Four Dishes and a Soup Overnight

The Weasley twins eagerly agreed to Luke's request—how could they not, considering how much he was offering?

A hundred Galleons just for setting off fireworks, with the cost of the fireworks reimbursed by Luke. Employers this generous didn’t come along every day.

The twins resolved that even if they had to endure an hour of hanging upside down at the hands of the poker-faced queen again, they’d make sure to pocket those 100 Galleons first.

Luke had spent half the day trying to teach the house-elves how to make a bowl of longevity noodles. Just as he was about to settle for using a cake as a substitute, Tom, who had been silently observing, pushed the elf Aslo aside. With practiced ease, Tom picked up a rolling pin, spun it gracefully, and, at a dazzling speed, made a bowl of noodles from scratch, complete with dough kneading and noodle rolling.

The authentic taste of the noodles was comforting, to say the least.

Luke wasn’t so bored as to insist on incorporating Sirius elements into the meal; he was merely curious to see how his senior would manage to finish a bowl of noodles in one go.

Watching Tom’s busy figure, Luke was reminded of a classic meme:

"Your cat cooked you four dishes and a soup overnight.jpg."  

On a related note, Luke had never seriously considered Chinese cuisine. His philosophy on food was simple: as long as it filled the stomach, it was good enough.

—Of course, dishes like stargazy pie or blue cheese, those dark culinary monstrosities, were exceptions. Even for human palates, they seemed ahead of their time.

As Tom successfully finished making the noodle soup, a notification sound rang out:

*"Your cat won't even eat your cooking (10)."*

*Achievement Reward: Recipe: Pandaren Eight-Treasure Noodle Soup*

*Pandaren Eight-Treasure Noodle Soup:* Restores energy recovery rate for one day.

Luke decided to let Tom learn this new recipe, along with the crispy spider leg dish.

Who would’ve thought Tom’s cooking talent level was actually 20?

As for the venue, that was simple. The Great Hall would be empty after 9 PM, so it was the perfect spot.

Luke even borrowed a piano and a saxophone from Professor Flitwick, intending for Tom and Jerry to use them. Those two natural-born musicians were too good a resource to waste.

Tom and Jerry already knew plenty of tunes, so they didn’t need Luke to provide sheet music.

On a whim, Luke sent invitation letters to the professors. Boldly, he showed no regard for school rules. When Professor McGonagall received the letter, she was discussing new ideas for Transfiguration with Dumbledore. Looking at the letter, she was too furious to speak for a moment.

"This is a terrible influence!"

Dumbledore, however, was much more relaxed. "For three million pounds, it’s worth letting him have some fun," he said, effectively quelling McGonagall’s complaints.

“This lifeless school could use some lively children like Luke to brighten the atmosphere,” Dumbledore added, sounding wistful.

“Indulge him all you like,” McGonagall said with an exasperated expression. “With the Weasley twins and Potter’s trio already driving me to the brink, I’ll lose at least ten years of my life. If Lord Mountbatten joins them, I don’t dare imagine the chaos this school will descend into…”

“At least Luke is a sensible child,” Dumbledore replied with a smile. “He seems to set a positive example for his peers.”

“I suppose I should thank him,” McGonagall admitted, recalling a policy Luke had mentioned to Valerie, which she had overheard. “If I hadn’t heard that, I’d still be in the dark about Snape’s schemes. To think I always considered him an honest man!”

“Poor Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw—those two houses are still unaware,” Dumbledore said with a shrug. “Hopefully, Snape’s next exam will wake them up.”

“Let’s hope so,” McGonagall concluded. “Mountbatten… is a good kid.”

Filch, on the other hand, was easy to please. Luke gifted him a variety of new Muggle cat foods, pet supplies, and toys, leaving Filch utterly delighted. He promised to turn a blind eye to Luke’s antics—especially since the professors would be present anyway.

Everything had been personally delivered by Amory, though she remained an unsung hero in the one-man-one-bird story.

By the way, Luke’s grandfather had returned a while ago but hadn’t sent him any letters. Instead, he had Amory deliver a baguette, along with a small note:

"I hope this pet from France brings you a touch of family comfort while at school."  

Classic British Navy Admiral humor—forever poking fun at France.

Luke’s grandfather wasn’t anti-French as a personal hobby; it was more of a national pastime. His true disdain was reserved for Japan. The old man’s will even stated that no Japanese person would be allowed to attend his funeral.

Luke didn’t plan to invite too many people to the gathering. From Slytherin, he only called Draco and Marcus. From Gryffindor, he invited the trio and Neville.

The twins, of course, were just the fireworks crew, not official guests.

With everything set up, Luke returned to the Slytherin common room a half-hour early, allowing time for his poor sense of direction.

“I thought you weren’t coming back, Bambi,” Catherine said without looking up from The Daily Prophet.

She didn’t need to look up; she just knew it was Luke.

“Uh, this…” Luke glanced at the paper in her hands. “I thought you hated Rita Skeeter. Why are you reading The Daily Prophet?”

“Because waiting for a lost little deer like you is boring,” Catherine replied, lowering the paper, her cheeks flushed with mild irritation. “I hope you have a good explanation.”

“Let’s go. I’ll explain on the way.” Luke grabbed her wrist, effortlessly lifting her light frame.

“Let go!” Catherine shook off his hand, her face turning redder. “I seriously doubt you could even find the eighth floor before dawn.”

“…I really want to teach you a lesson,” Luke muttered under his breath.

“We’re going to the Great Hall on the first floor today,” he added aloud.

“What for?”

“You’ll see,” Luke replied, determined to surprise her.

“You must be hungry. At your age, eating your family out of house and home is normal,” Catherine teased, then reconsidered. “Wait, no. You come from a wealthy family. You’d never manage that.”

The word “exploitation” was one she’d learned from Luke himself.

Despite her teasing, Catherine was practical. Hunger was bad for growth, so she led Luke to the Great Hall without further complaint, ready to see what he was planning.

(To Be Continued)  

*Chapter 43: Birthday Celebration*

“Why do you look so mysterious?” Catherine asked Luke as they walked, her tone tinged with suspicion. “You’re not scheming something, are you, dear Luke?”

“Of course not.” Luke chuckled as he pushed open the grand hall doors and gestured grandly. “After you, Miss Catherine.”

She shot him a skeptical glance, then strode into the hall with her long legs.

“Pop! Bang!” The moment she stepped inside, confetti exploded, and the twins blew party horns while tossing magical sparklers into the air.

Melodious piano music began to play—it was Tom, softly performing the birthday song.

Simultaneously, everyone in the hall stood up and sang “Happy Birthday” in unison, offering heartfelt wishes to Catherine.

Standing at the entrance, Catherine was stunned. Her eyes reddened as she scanned the room, taking in each smiling face. For once, the usually sharp-tongued girl simply murmured, “Thank you… thank you.”

In her 14 years, no one had ever gone to such lengths for her birthday. In this moment, a rare warmth blossomed in Catherine’s heart.

To be honest, she had forgotten it was even her birthday.

“Happy Birthday, Catherine,” Luke whispered into her ear, standing on tiptoes to reach.

Why tiptoes, you ask? Well, Luke was only 11 years old, standing just over 4’7”, while Catherine towered over him by more than a head. Without tiptoeing, he wouldn’t have reached her ear.

It was a classic case of “a small horse pulling a big cart.”

Just as Catherine was touched, Headmaster Dumbledore’s voice broke the moment. “When’s the food coming? I’m about to drool…”

Professor McGonagall discreetly nudged him under the table and shot him a warning glare.

“Alright, alright.” Luke laughed as he led Catherine to the center of the hall, gently linking arms with her. “Aslow, it’s time to serve!”

Under everyone’s expectant gaze, bowls of colorful… noodle soup?… appeared before each guest.

“What’s this?” Dumbledore asked, poking at a strand of noodle with his fork, looking uncertain.

“This is Eight-Treasure Noodle Soup from another world—a specialty dish of the Pandaren,” Luke explained. “Of course, Catherine’s bowl is different from the rest. Hers has a single long noodle. According to my mother’s tradition, the birthday star must slurp it down in one go without breaking it.”

Yes, it was Luke’s mischievous streak at play, taking the opportunity to tease Catherine.

Boys in their early teens often have an odd way of expressing affection—teasing the girl they like just seems irresistible.

Catherine, now seated, felt the weight of everyone’s stares. While she was used to being the center of attention as the “Queen of Slytherin,” this was different. Never before had she been scrutinized while eating noodles.

And to slurp down one unbroken noodle in a single breath? It sounded impossible.

Fortunately, Luke wasn’t completely heartless; he hadn’t asked Tom to make the noodle unbearably long.

Suddenly, the music shifted, and Luke found the tune familiar.

The saxophone melody began, and then it hit him—this was from White Album!

“Go ahead, Catherine,” Luke urged, his voice almost coaxing. It reminded him of Gul’dan’s tempting tone, and he half-feared he’d next utter, “This is the destiny of Slytherin. You shall all reign as kings.”  

Catherine realized he was up to no good. She gave him a playful glare, then picked up the noodle with poise and slurped it up gracefully but quickly, finishing her birthday noodle with elegance.

Luke clapped first, and the others followed suit. The Weasley twins set off another round of sparklers, filling the hall with joyful noise and light.

“I must say, this dish from another world… is delightful,” Dumbledore declared between slurps. “Though a touch more sweetness would be nice.”

The Golden Trio was no less enthusiastic. Ron, in particular, was devouring his massive bowl with heroic gusto, as if conquering a battlefield.

The twins turned away in unison, pretending not to know him.

Draco’s table manners weren’t much better—his fork moved at lightning speed.

Luke sampled a strand of noodle himself, savoring the flavor. As expected, Pandaren cuisine lived up to its reputation. In two lifetimes, he had never tasted anything so divine.

No wonder even Snape was quietly slurping away.

“This noodle soup seems to have a restorative effect on energy,” Dumbledore mused.

“As expected of the great wizard,” Luke said, smiling. “You’re correct, Headmaster. However, this magical property only comes through Tom’s cooking. I propose that every top student from each house after monthly exams be rewarded with a bowl of this to help them excel in their studies.”

“And tomorrow, Tom will prepare a bowl for every student and staff member—after all, how can one develop interest without tasting it first?”

Tom: Easy for you to say.  

Even during Catherine’s birthday dinner, Luke found a way to stir… or rather, to compete. Truly, he stayed true to himself.

“An excellent suggestion,” Dumbledore agreed, eyes twinkling.

Meanwhile, Professors Sprout and Flitwick exchanged confused glances, trying to decipher the subtext between Luke and Dumbledore.

They knew about the monthly exams—it was Snape’s initiative—but they hadn’t realized Dumbledore was also on board.

The two professors locked eyes with McGonagall, silently vowing: Slytherin must not win the House Cup again.  

As the main course ended, house-elves brought out delightful desserts, much to Dumbledore’s glee.

“Thank you,” Catherine said softly, smiling radiantly at Luke.

“To be honest, I’m a little disappointed,” Luke teased, lazily resting his elbow on the table. Offering her a piece of cake, he smirked, “I thought you’d be so moved you’d pledge yourself to me.”

Catherine, who had been touched moments earlier, suddenly wanted to smash the cake onto his face.

(End of Chapter) 

Chapter 44: The High Wall of Lothric

As Luke’s senior by three years, Catherine had always felt it necessary to indulge him a little. Even though she often came across as strict and sharp-tongued, she had a soft spot for him and usually let things slide. But this time, the brat had gone too far—pushing boundaries and overstepping his limits.

"Well done, boy. You’ve succeeded in making me angry," Catherine thought as flames of determination sparked in her eyes while glaring at Luke.

“It’s hardly gentlemanly to force a lady to confess to you,” Catherine said with a sly tone, narrowing her long almond-shaped eyes. “Going to such lengths to celebrate my birthday… what’s the reason behind it, I wonder? Let me guess—are you yearning for friendship? Hmm, no, that doesn’t seem right. You didn’t go to this much trouble for Beaver’s birthday last week. Could it be that you, little Luke…”

Her face momentarily betrayed her composure as a slight blush crept up, but she quickly masked it with a feigned look of surprise. “...harbor feelings for me but are too shy to admit it?”

Luke’s handsome face flushed slightly—not out of embarrassment but frustration.

How was he supposed to complete his task like this?

“Fine,” he thought. “You’ve succeeded in making me angry too!” Sparks of electricity danced in his eyes as he looked back at Catherine.

This had started as business, but now it had become personal.

“This is just a small token of appreciation for your help with my magic practice since the start of the school year. No need to make a big deal out of it,” Luke retorted swiftly, his quick wit kicking in. Let’s see how you like that! 

Tom struck up a new tune, the classic “Unreachable Love,” adding an ironic touch to the atmosphere.

The onlookers—and even the two protagonists—couldn’t help but feel a twinge of secondhand embarrassment.

“After all, we’re such good friends, right?” Luke added with a smirk.

...

This verbal sparring ended in a draw.

The next day, Headmaster Dumbledore personally deducted fifty points from Slytherin. The reason? Luke had meticulously planned and orchestrated a nighttime excursion with a group of students.

Snape’s face had never looked so long. To the uninformed, one might have thought James Potter had risen from the grave.

In the Room of Requirement, Luke and Catherine discussed Dumbledore.

“That old man is truly cunning. And to think I even treated him to eight-treasure noodle soup…” Luke grumbled.

“Well, you kind of brought this on yourself,” Catherine replied, stretching lazily as she glanced at him with a mix of exasperation and amusement.

The Room of Requirement was warm despite the cold weather outside, so Catherine wore only a thin white shirt. As she stretched, the snug fabric clung to her figure, revealing her slender waist and creating a scene that would make anyone’s thoughts wander.

Luke noticed the faint dimples on her lower back—waist dimples. 

Her waist… truly deadly.

The moonlight bathed Catherine’s pale skin, making it appear even more radiant. For a brief moment, Luke was utterly captivated.

Oblivious to his gaze, Catherine leaned on the table and asked without looking back, “How’s your prep for the monthly exam going?”

“Not bad,” Luke shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. “I haven’t really reviewed, so who knows how it’ll turn out?”

In truth, his thoughts were entirely on her waist.

He regretted it. If he’d known better, he might have forgone his electrical skills or the Gryphon Eye spell—what were those compared to the allure of her waist?

But there was no turning back now. He could only sigh inwardly.

---

Later, as Luke headed back to his dormitory, the system notified him of a new mission.

*Mission: Clear the High Wall of Lothric*

- Objective: Eliminate threats on the High Wall of Lothric and defeat the Elite Knight: Vordt of the Boreal Valley.

- Rewards: Rune Amn, Dark Sword x1, Spell: Carian Greatsword, Resilience Orb x1.

Empty reward slots? Interesting, Luke thought, intrigued.

The mission, however, was solo—he couldn’t bring Tom or Jerry along. This time, there would be no Catherine to back him up.

Back in his dorm, Luke found Draco still sound asleep. Accepting the teleportation, Luke accidentally triggered a bright light that woke Draco momentarily.

“Who am I? Where am I? What was I doing again?” Draco muttered before falling back asleep.

---

The cold and damp air hit Luke immediately.

Pushing open the small door at the top of the castle gate, he was met with the smell of decaying mud under the sun.

The scene before him was one of desolation. The once-glorious city had long been abandoned after the internal conflicts of Lothric. Now, it was a wasteland.

By the wall, grotesque tree-like figures stood tall, their bodies stretching upward. Their arms had turned into branches, and their heads pointed skyward, as if yearning for something.

Luke unsheathed his Crystal Sword and proceeded cautiously.

Descending the steps, he arrived at a spacious section of the wall. Tree-like figures were flanked by kneeling humanoid forms that appeared to worship them.

They were likely undead—harmless for now. Luke walked closer, inspecting their bizarre and distorted faces. Compared to them, Marcus seemed downright handsome.

At the end of the path, a lantern-carrying undead emerged. It saw Luke, and Luke saw it.

They locked eyes for a moment before the undead raised its lantern and opened its mouth to howl. But Luke silenced it with a spell.

It stumbled forward with a broken sword, but Luke dispatched it effortlessly with the Crystal Sword.

Continuing forward, he reached another staircase and spotted an undead slumped against the wall, seemingly lost in despair.

A well-placed backstab ended it.

Before Luke could lower his sword, a treasure chest in the room burst open. A sword-and-shield-wielding foe emerged.

“Expelliarmus!” Luke cast, sending the weapon and shield flying.

The enemy stood there, dumbfounded, scratching its head in confusion as if wondering where its equipment had gone. Luke gave it no time to react, striking it down in one swift motion.

After searching the room in vain for loot, Luke descended further.

Exiting the building, he faced two paths: one leading upward, the other forward. According to the original map, a dragon lurked atop the castle. But after searching, Luke found no sign of it.

Choosing caution, he avoided the upper path, unwilling to test his luck.

(To be continued) 

Chapter 45: Above the High Wall  

The hollows on the High Wall of Lothric have one distinct characteristic: they are incredibly fragile. A slight bump, and their brittle bones would emit a sharp cracking sound.  

But don't underestimate them just because they're fragile. In fact, countless Ashen Ones have perished at their hands.  

Walking through a path teeming with hollows and leaving behind a trail of broken corpses, Luke arrived at the door to a room.  

“Thud… Thud… Thud...”  

A heavy sound echoed. Following the noise, Luke saw a fully armed knight. Clad in thick armor, wielding a sharp straight sword, and walking with resolute steps, the knight's every move radiated the aura of a formidable opponent.  

It was a fully armed Lothric Knight.  

Upon seeing Luke, the knight paused for a moment, tilting his head to examine him closely. He even scratched his head with the hand holding his shield, as though puzzled by the sight of such a short Ashen One.  

Luke felt offended. For a brief moment, he was genuinely hurt.  

To be fair, for a child standing a little over 4 feet tall, the presence of a knight nearly 6’5” was overwhelmingly intimidating.  

In Luke's eyes, the knight loomed like a mountain. His crimson cape swayed as he strode forward, his heavy steps echoing ominously.  

“Expelliarmus! (Disarming Charm)”  

The spell struck the knight, causing him to pause momentarily before continuing toward Luke unfazed.  

He didn’t even bother raising his shield in defense.  

You have gained 50 points of proficiency in the Disarming Charm.  

“Impedimenta! (Impediment Jinx)”  

You have gained 50 points of proficiency in the Impediment Jinx.  

As the spell struck, the knight’s movements slowed, as though invisible hands were pulling him back. Luke avoided using Sectumsempra or his Crystal Sword, knowing he might need this knight later as a training dummy for his classmates after clearing the High Wall. This was a good opportunity to test his spells' strength.  

He wanted to see if any normal, non-Dark Magic spells could take down this troublesome foe.  

So far, the High Wall hadn’t presented any overly outrageous enemies. For a young wizard, even a Watchdog of the Old Lords could be dealt with easily—assuming you could land a hit.  

“Stupefy! (Stunning Spell)”  

You have gained 150 points of proficiency in the Stunning Spell.  

The spell hit the knight's helmet with a sharp clang, causing his head to tilt slightly. However, it didn’t deal any significant damage.  

This could have been because Luke’s Stupefy was only at level 1. With low spell power, it leveled up quickly but lacked impact.  

After firing off several more spells, his Stunning Spell finally reached level 2. Yet, it still failed to deal substantial damage, only leaving slight dents in the knight's armor.  

Luke continued his pattern: Impedimenta, take two steps back, Stupefy, Stupefy, Stupefy, then repeat. This kiting strategy came naturally to him, a skill honed over years of playing mage characters in games.  

Eventually, once his Stunning Spell reached level 3, it could finally stagger the knight slightly.  

At Hogwarts, many fifth-years and above were already adept at using Stupefy effectively.  

To be honest, this knight was far more accommodating than his senior classmates. At least he didn’t require Luke to hold back or worry about "hitting too hard."  

Luke couldn't help but speculate that his senior classmates might have preferred things that way too. He convinced himself of this as he thought of excuses for his relentless attacks.  

Meanwhile, back at Hogwarts, Catherine sneezed twice in her sleep.  

By the time his Confringo (Blasting Curse) reached level 3, the Lothric Knight finally couldn’t bear the humiliation any longer. He knelt down and ended his life with his own sword.  

Luke was stunned.  

"What the heck? If you're this smart, why didn’t you just throw your sword at me?"  

Opposite the room where the knight emerged, Luke found another hidden room. After clearing it out, he discovered a chest in the center.  

A long, chain-like object extended from the chest, trailing conspicuously along the floor.  

Luke smirked and cast an Impedimenta, quickly following it with a Confringo.  

“Did you think you could fool me, you wretched creature?” he muttered.  

The chest emitted an eerie laugh before standing upright.  

Its elongated arms and legs and emaciated body gave Luke his first impression of the mimic: a lanky frame with a chest-shaped head, jagged teeth lining the lid, and a grotesque tongue hanging out, dripping saliva. It was as horrifying as it was disgusting.  

Impedimenta didn’t have much effect. The mimic spun wildly, its limbs flailing, and charged toward Luke like a whirlwind.  

“Whirlwind Tornado Charge!”  

Luke quickly retaliated with a Confringo.  

You have gained 100 points of proficiency in the Blasting Curse.  

The mimic was much stronger than the Lothric Knight.  

Though briefly stunned, it quickly recovered, spreading its arms to try and grab Luke for a grotesque embrace.  

Luke sidestepped, causing the mimic to comically stumble. If not for its quick reflexes, it might have fallen flat on its face.  

Looking at its unbalanced movements, a sudden idea struck Luke.  

“Levicorpus! (Dangling Jinx)”  

Just as he’d hoped, the mimic was hoisted upside down by the spell. It flailed helplessly, its tongue lashing about and spraying foul-smelling saliva everywhere. It was utterly revolting.  

The mimic let out a bizarre laugh, seemingly unbothered by its predicament. Despite its terrifying appearance, its optimism was almost admirable.  

It seemed each creature on the High Wall had its weaknesses.  

Judging by the hollows’ brittle bones, they were clearly weak to Confringo.  

Luke used the mimic to train his Blasting and Stunning Spells, leveling both to 5.  

As he considered how his classmates might fare here, he imagined Miss Know-It-All gleefully opening a chest, only to be swallowed whole, her little legs kicking helplessly.  

The dark humor typical of a Dark Souls player bubbled to the surface.  

"Man, I’d love to see my classmates suffer."  

After defeating the mimic, Luke turned his attention to the items it dropped.  

One was a small rune-like stone, and the other was a mysterious grayish-blue battle axe.  

[Rune: Ort]: Embedding this in items can yield unexpected effects. 

[Deep Battle Axe]: A battle axe imbued with deep infusion, dealing dark damage. Particularly effective against certain enemies.  

Not a bad haul. The axe might not be useful for now, but the rune was a godsend.  

Stashing his loot, Luke continued his journey in search of Vordt of the Boreal Valley.  

(End of Chapter)