While the red-haired man was feeling proud of himself in the arena, a tall and skinny old man quietly stood up on Slytherin's side. He took out a magic potion bottle and gulped down a mouthful of its contents.
Then, he stretched his neck and walked down the stage.
When he brushed past Silby, Silby heard the man's mocking voice, "Trash."
Silby didn't say anything. He walked up to Tara, who was about to faint, and squatted down with a smile on his face. "Alright, it's not a big deal."
Theodore angrily glared at Silby and gritted his teeth. "You're messing with us!"
Theodore angrily said. As Silby's subordinate, he had secretly accompanied him to the Rat Path's Beast Fighting Arena at night. Theodore knew better than anyone else just how strong this young man was. It was also because of this that he was more furious than anyone else.
"Get over it."
Silby nonchalantly patted Theodore's shoulder and returned to Slytherin's side. He stood behind him as if nothing had happened.
"Is this how you won thirty matches?"
Slytherin happily asked him.
"I'm not in good shape today." Silby sighed. "I fought too hard last night and didn't get to rest."
"Good, good, good!"
Slytherin hissed. "You're really good. You've even learned how to slack off."
"No."
Silby pursed his lips. "His territory isn't like the Rat Path Iron Cage. The Rat Path Iron Cage is protected on all sides. No matter how hard I fall, I won't be able to escape. But this place is a little too small. I can't get used to it."
"Hmph!"
Slytherin looked at him and coldly harrumphed.
It was even to the extent that he couldn't be bothered to expose Chen Xi's perfunctory behavior. He'd already decided in his heart that once this matter was over, he absolutely couldn't keep this' servant 'alive any longer. This fellow's thoughts were too deep, and his opinions were too strong. What was even more difficult to control was that he kept his true thoughts a secret and practically never took the initiative to express them.
Slytherin hated it when people treated him like a fool, and he did not wish for there to be someone stronger than him in the world. Whether he was Gryffindor, Silby, or anyone else, he hoped that when people talked about this era, they would only remember one person: Salazar Slytherin, the greatest wizard.
In the arena, the tall and skinny old man expressionlessly handed his red invitation letter to the bald herald.
Then, he stood in front of the red-haired man who was glaring at him like a tiger watching its prey. He slowly took off his robe, revealing his bony body behind it. Just how skinny was he? Silby could almost see his completely protruding spine from his back, as well as the red burn scars all over his body.
However, Silby didn't dare to underestimate this skinny old man. On the contrary, his gaze became serious, because he could feel a surging but strange natural power in the old man's body.
He took off a necklace from his chest, opened it, and took out a seed-like object from it. He raised his head and swallowed it.
Instantly, his old and decrepit body straightened step by step, and at the same time, he slowly turned into a plant. His muscle fibers thickened and grew longer, and finally became a plant. One by one, they even burst out of his body. His facial features became rough, and the soles of his feet continued to extend downwards until they were finally stuck in the ground.
"That's Olayard! The traitorous wizard of the druids, "someone exclaimed.
"He actually received an invitation letter as well. Rumor has it that he was burned to death by the church's people more than ten years ago. I didn't expect him to still be alive."
The red-haired man didn't dare to be careless anymore. He took out the beating black heart again and smeared the black blood it secreted on his body. Accompanied by black smoke, he turned into a ferocious tiger, roaring and pouncing towards the treant in the center of the arena.
Crack!
The ferocious tiger pounced on the tree trunk. Its weight of a few hundred kilograms caused the tree trunk to bend down. Then, it opened its huge mouth and bit the tree trunk. Its sharp claws scratched wildly, causing wood chips to fly everywhere.
The trunk bent more and more, and finally, it made an ominous squeaking sound. It looked like it was about to break.
But at that moment, the trunk that was bent to the extreme suddenly bounced forward.
It was like a taut spring returning to its original state.
Not only that, during the bouncing process, countless slender and thick branches pierced out like sharp swords. Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh! They pierced the tiger's body and came out.
The red-haired man let out a miserable whimper, and then there was no sound. A forked branch pierced his throat and tore his vocal cords.
In almost two seconds, the insufferably arrogant tiger was pierced into a sieve by countless branches in the blink of an eye.
It hung miserably in the air, blood flowing down the branches like a stream on the ground.
This was the first time blood was seen in this match.
The tree trunk slowly but firmly bent down.
It placed the red-haired man's body on the ground, and the dense branches dragged behind it, pulling it out of the man's body. The vines silently crept upwards. Olayard took root deep within the soil as he surveyed his surroundings.
The bald herald immediately raised his hand and said with a smile, "Olayard wins. Jones is out."
Then, the three red invitation letters fell into the Treant's hands.
"Does anyone else want to challenge me?"
The treant's deep and heavy voice sounded like wood hitting wood. "If not, please hand over the red invitation letters. Don't block this old man's way."
"What a joke!"
On Gryffindor's side, a northern magus who was wearing a thick leather coat stood up abruptly. "When it comes to sparring, the loser should retreat. Why do you have to kill? Do you think we don't have enough people?"
The treant Olad turned around and looked at the face of the northern wizard who had spoken. He sneered, "If you're not happy, you can solve it through force. Then you can solve the problem yourself. I don't have the time to talk nonsense with you!"
* Crack! *
The scarred man pulled out a short scimitar from his waist. "Let's fight. Who's afraid of who?"
He jumped into the arena and threw a glass ball under his body. The glass ball shattered, and a cold aura covered the arena like a tide.
In an instant, most of the branches on Oleyard's body were frozen, but he was not to be outdone. He shook off the frost on his body, and at the same time, shook off countless seeds. The seeds fell to the ground and took root, turning the entire arena into a thorny forest.
"You can't sit, stand, or lie here!"
"No one can kill me in the woods," Olayard said with a rumbling voice.
"Bullsh * t!"
The man shouted in the cold fog.
He took out another glass ball from his pocket. The glass ball shattered, and a huge snowball fell from the sky onto Olayard's tree-like body. He was drowned in white.
For a long time, there was no movement under the snow.
Everyone on Gryffindor's side stood up and applauded loudly.
Silby stared at the arena with shining eyes. The Wizard on the stage this time should be someone with high attainment in spells. However, he was not powerful enough to control spells freely, so he could only store them in a glass ball.
However, if this was all he had, he would not be able to defeat Olayard. Silby thought the reason was simple. He could see the traces of magic in the man's spells, and he could even deduce their composition. If he was given time, he would be able to optimize the spells.
However, Olayard's power was more like a natural gift. It was difficult for him to analyze and imitate. At the same time, it was also more changeable.
Sure enough, just as Wizard Zizi from Gryffindor's side was cheering.
The Northern Wizard with the curved sword suddenly knelt on the ground, clutching his throat. His eyes rolled back as he fell to the ground, twitching uncontrollably.
This sudden turn of events caught everyone off guard.
Silby frowned. After thinking for a while, he understood the reason. The thorns on the ground were poisonous. In the first wave of attacks, the Northern Wizard had been careless and had been scratched by poisonous leaves. Now that the poison had taken effect, he had lost his ability to fight.
Outside the arena, the bald herald smiled and raised his hand. "Olayard wins. Kromo is out."
Slytherin's face revealed a hint of joy.
The ice and snow that had gone out of control gradually receded, revealing Olayard's body that had been crushed in two by the snowball. He seemed to have suffered some injuries. However, the tyrannical power of killing two people in a row still lingered, and no one dared to step forward.
After this victory, the old Ent called Olayard had collected four red invitation letters. What was even more frightening was that after two rounds of fierce battles, his bent body had gradually returned to normal.
Not only had he returned to normal, but he had also taken root deep into the ground. His trunk had become thicker, and his branches had become denser. Dense red leaves had even sprouted from his branches.
Silby quickly discovered the reason. The Magi that had been killed by Olayard had been silently dragged into the ground by his branches. Their blood and their nutrients had all been absorbed by this strange Ent. No wonder he dared to enter the arena so early. The more people he fought, the more powerful he became.
The other Magi had also noticed Olayard's peculiarities.
Even Slytherin looked at him with fear in his eyes. The Magus World was filled with crouching tigers and hidden dragons. It was hard to guarantee that a dark horse would not appear out of nowhere and sweep everyone away.
If they were killed and defeated, not only would they lose their throne, but they would also become his nutrients. Who would dare to step forward?
Just as everyone was too afraid to step forward, Gryffindor, who was sitting on the opposite platform, stood up. He smiled and slowly walked down the platform with the silver Fairy Sword in his hand.
Everyone had heard of Godric Gryffindor's name, his bravery, his recklessness, and his strength. When he finally chose to enter the arena, the chatter from both sides of the stands stopped.
Even the expressionless Queen Pandora straightened her back and stared unblinkingly at the golden-haired man in the red cloak.
His red cloak rustled behind him as he walked up to Olayard, who had already grown into a towering tree. He raised his head and looked at him.
"Are you going to admit defeat, or do you want me to do it myself?"
"What a joke, Godric." The old Ent cackled. "Others may be afraid of you, but I'm not. The Fairy Sword is indeed unique in resisting black magic, but what I use is not black magic."
"Oh, indeed. Transfiguration and herbology?" Gryffindor nodded approvingly. "You have your own uniqueness. What do you think? Are you interested in working under me? Your abilities should not be buried in Slytherin's hands."
Slytherin's face turned green when he heard this. Silby thought to himself, Gryffindor really doesn't forget to poach Slytherin's corner at all times.
"I'm not following him. I just don't like your brash, arrogant, and troublemaking personality."
The old man bowed his body and squeaked, "We Magi have survived to this day by keeping a low profile and protecting our own safety!"
With that, he began to spin in a spiral. Every branch and vine turned into a deadly scimitar, slicing horizontally at Gryffindor's body.
Gryffindor quickly and decisively stomped on the ground. The ground trembled as if there was a magnitude 8 earthquake. The people on both sides of the spectator stands were shaken to the ground. The entire arena was completely destroyed, revealing the intertwined tree roots that were hidden underneath.
Amidst the flying debris, he quickly pulled out the Fairy Sword and slashed at the corpses wrapped in the roots. It was so fast that it looked like a Mirage.
Silby secretly praised Gryffindor. As expected of Gryffindor, he could see the crux of the matter at a glance. As long as he destroyed the roots, Olea, who had lost his nutrients, would not be able to continue.
Of course, Olea would not just sit there and wait for his death. His roots dragged the two corpses and quickly dived downwards. At the same time, he raised branches and stuck them into the ground to form obstacles, blocking Gryffindor's path.
Gryffindor brandished the Fairy's sword and chopped off all the branches that were in his way. Red blood flowed out of the branches that were cut off.
"If you have this ability, you should ally with us and stop killing each other!" In the midst of the fierce battle, Gryffindor still took the time to try and win over Olea.
This angered Olea. He roared, "Don't look down on me. Wait until you win!"
Following his roar, the branches that Gryffindor had cut off all came to life. They grew legs and ran towards Gryffindor, laughing and laughing. They then exploded violently, creating clouds of purple poisonous smoke in the air.
In the stands, Silby immediately covered his nose and shook his head. His entire head was quickly covered by a cloud of water. He did not want to be affected in the battle.
In the arena, Gryffindor's vision was blurred, and he slowed down.
Then, countless vines caught up to him, wrapping around his hand that was holding the Fairy Sword. After binding Gryffindor's arm, Olayard straightened his back, and a tree branch turned into a huge and sharp wooden knife. He slashed down heavily, and actually wanted to cut off Gryffindor's arm that was holding the sword.
In the blink of an eye, Gryffindor smiled slightly. He threw away the Fairy Sword, and his hands were covered in flames. The flames on his arms turned from red to hot blue, burning from the vines to Olea's main body.
Silby stared straight at the flames, his brain instinctively analyzing the changes and composition of the spell.
Covered in raging flames, Olayard began to scream miserably.
Gryffindor nimbly slid behind him, grabbing him by the waist. He held Olea's main body horizontally with both hands and exerted strength in his waist.
Then, under Silby's shocked gaze, he forcefully pulled out Olea, who was deeply rooted in the ground.
What kind of strength was this?!
Shock aside, Silby immediately analyzed the cause of Gryffindor's enormous strength. It was definitely not a strength that a human could possess. Carefully sensing it, he discovered that under Gryffindor's skin, there were faintly discernible magic runes. Sure enough, it was some kind of strengthening spell, and a rather ancient and powerful one at that.
He could not be defeated.
He immediately gave himself this command in his mind.
In the arena, the battle had reached its climax.
Olea, who had been pulled out, struggled with all his might. Each of his tendrils turned into a needle, spiraling downwards and piercing Gryffindor's body. The lion-like man did not dodge. Instead, he pierced Olea's chest with his finger and came out.
Wood splinters flew everywhere, and he held a red seed between his fingers.
After the seed was taken away, the towering Olea immediately withered, and his body rapidly shrank. In less than 30 seconds, he became shriveled and emaciated again. He lay on the ground, coughing and trembling.
Gryffindor released him, turned around, and pulled out the Fairy Sword from the ground. He placed it on Olea's neck and said calmly, "You can disagree with my way of doing things, but you can't disagree with my sword. Now, submit or die."
"I … submit …"
The emaciated old man crawled on the ground, trembling.
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