I, Hogwarts Second Time Around.

A conflict is definitely going to break out in Chapter 137.

Time is the most terrifying thing.

Gradually, this doubt turned into an indescribable anger, and rumors spread everywhere.

A few days later, rumors even circulated in Paris that the so-called truth was that several adult wizards were actually seeking revenge because of a Quidditch match (an exhibition game in which the French team defeated the Irish team).

All that talk of little wizards and fair duels was a British conspiracy.

They fabricated this fake news to cover up the fact that they bullied the younger wizards at Beauxbatons School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Well, it has to be said that it's absolutely not a problem for Great Britain, as a world-class troublemaker, to be maliciously speculated about like this.

After all, America, who was like a father to him on the other side of the sea, had once staged a hoax that destroyed a country with a bottle of laundry detergent.

There is absolutely nothing wrong with the French wizard having such doubts.

However, if it were anyone else present, no matter how you speculate, there would be no problem. But the one standing there was the original owner of this body, Owen.

Although the truth of the day was that he had been verbally taunting the other party (he was so bored he wanted to beat them up) that the other party couldn't help but attack, it was indeed the young wizards of Bubbaston who ganged up on him and beat him up.

Of course, the result was that he single-handedly beat up their entire group.

But to say that this wizard attacked him is a complete slander against him! He! Owen Sanchez! The Dark Lord! He would never stoop to attacking others!

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

A conflict was about to erupt when the boy suddenly waved his wand and shouted a spell.

Then a dazzling red light flashed, and a spell emanating a dangerous aura appeared at the tip of his wand, heading straight for Owen.

"Oh~ Oh! Ouch!" A certain dark demon yawned listlessly.

Beauxbatons was indeed warm, with a pleasant fragrance in the air, but he tended to get sleepy as the temperature rose.

Especially the wind in these mountains and fields, so warm and gentle.

It was like a mother gently stroking her son returning from overseas. This only confused Irving more.

As for breaking the spell of gentleness.

He didn't even glance at it.

It's not that he's arrogant, it's just that when I fought him, the color of the spell wasn't green. Does he look down on me? Ah, does he look down on me?!

A spell of this level of attack.

In Owen's eyes, it felt like a world-destroying dragon seeing a brave warrior who hadn't even left the starting village, clumsily wielding a longsword and using the sword technique "slashing" on him.

He didn't even pull out his wand.

He raised his right hand and gently touched it with his index finger. A blue light flashed by, and then the spell seemed to have hit something. After a tremor, it returned along the same path.

With a "bang," to the boy's astonishment, he was blasted away by the spell he himself had unleashed.

The lawn was badly damaged because the boy rolled more than ten feet before stopping, crushing many of the resilient green plants.

"Phew~"

Irving's hair, which had been blown away by the wind, settled down.

His indifferent gaze betrayed an underlying weariness.

Armor counterattack.

After six months of practice, Irving has become very proficient at using this spell.

Of course, this only applies to ordinary spells. He can deflect slightly stronger black magic defense spells, but his accuracy is very poor. As for more advanced black magic, he would have to dodge them.

A rebound? They've already humiliated us, what rebound are you talking about!

Oh!

If you die in Avadakken, there is indeed a chance you'll become a ghost (laughs).

"What happened?"

At this moment, the other Beauxbatons students on the Quidditch pitch flew over and stood on the opposite side of Owen.

The group stared in astonishment at their companion, who was lying on the ground struggling in pain.

"Did he get hit by his own curse?"

"What kind of magic is this?"

"He didn't even draw his wand, how—how did he cast the spell?"

"Idiot, there are magic techniques for casting spells without a wand! What have you been doing in class?"

The students chattered excitedly. Although they couldn't figure out what magic Owen had just used, it happened so fast that, judging from the visual effects alone, the magic the boy used wasn't particularly powerful or impressive.

So although they were surprised that a teenage wizard could defeat a wizard several levels higher than him, there was little fear in their eyes. Instead, they continued to stare at Owen aggressively.

"Did you know?" Owen shrugged, and a thin layer of black silk slowly seeped out from under his feet, unnoticed by anyone.

"Fighting with a little wizard is so boring. I can't even eat big melons. My fighting power drops by 50%!" He turned around casually, a strangely sharp look appearing in his eyes.

"However, given the fact that you guys will definitely continue to cause me trouble, so—"

Suddenly he raised his head sharply, a mocking smile about to burst from his lips.

"You newbies, let me show you what magic really is!"

After saying that, he clapped his hands sharply, then raised them to the left and right, and thick black mist instantly spread out.

In the blink of an eye, it enveloped all the young wizards present.

"What kind of magic is this?"

"It doesn't seem to have much offensive power?"

Darkness eroded their vision, but soon everything returned to normal; the black mist suddenly vanished, and the light of the 'sun' shone in once more.

However, Irving's smile grew even wider.

It has to be said that he's becoming increasingly skilled at using special effects. He uses the black cloth magic his grandfather used to summon his subordinates with ease.

The illusory magic that filled the sky, along with the black mist, entered this false world.

"Remember my name, for it will accompany you for life, becoming the ultimate terror!"

A mountain breeze made Irving's robes flutter, and suddenly dark clouds gathered in the sky.

Everyone stared at the sky in shock, and panic gradually crept into their eyes.

The surrounding brightness suddenly began to drop drastically.

The oppressive wind was filled with misfortune!

"Crack!" A bolt of lightning suddenly flashed across the sky.

The bluish-purple light illuminated Irving's terrifying and ferocious smile.

In an instant, all the students at Bubuston felt a chill run down their spines, as if they were being targeted by some terrifying monster, causing their adrenaline to surge.

In the chaos, some people chose to flee.

Some people chose to raise their wands.

Someone was hiding in the crowd.

Some opted for physical attacks.

"Snap!"

The lightning, like a net, started from a bright spot and spread densely outwards in all directions.

The lines multiplied, eventually settling from the sky beside Irving.

He shattered all those spells.

"Is this all the magic you have?" A dark-skinned boy secretly pulled out his wand, and the golden spells of Immediate Stop and Armor Protection blocked all the spells.

Then, accompanied by that golden glow, the oppressive clouds could no longer contain the raging inner demons, and began to unleash lightning as if the end of the world had come.

"Snap!"

Lightning gathered over Owen's entire body, then, in his crazed eyes, transformed into a vanishing black bird: "Summon the lightning!!!"

Then he suddenly unleashed the lightning, accompanied by the sound of dense electric current. The black bird seemed to have entered an empty field, paralyzing everyone with electricity. A second later, no one in the entire field remained standing.

Including his guide, the chief of the Burbuston family, Fleur Delacour.

"Petrification Curse!!!" Fleur, kneeling on the ground, trembled all over. Although she had blocked Owen's petrification curse hidden in the lightning, she had not dodged his counterattack—or rather, counterattack, since special effects need a bit of realism.

For example, a slight lightning storm that spreads from the soles of your feet.

At the very least, those little wizards should have some marks from being electrocuted!

"You're quite good, Miss Hibiscus!"

"It's just that he wasn't very effective when he attacked me just now," Owen said casually, squatting on the ground with his left hand supporting his face.

"I'm a student of Bubbaston!" Fleur gritted her teeth, her resolute face filled with defiance. "I felt like the name Owen was familiar before."

"I never expected it to be you!"

"Heh—" Owen chuckled coldly, "The strong never bother with explanations. Since you're willing to believe the rumors but unwilling to fall, that puts me in a bit of a bind."

Owen calmly squatted on the ground, raised his wand in his right hand, and the sharp wind captivated Fleur's eyes.

She stared in terror at the boy before her; in that moment, this sheltered flower, who had never faced danger before, felt the threat of death.

"Since that's the case—"

"Lightning Storm!!!"

This time, it wasn't just a spell effect; Irving had already removed the veil.

While it might not be enough to kill this incredibly beautiful young lady, we still need to teach her a lesson.

Don't launch a surprise attack from behind against an enemy you can't possibly defeat.

This will bring nothing but disaster upon oneself.

A thunderclap suddenly echoed across the plains of Burbuston.

The dark clouds that surged from the horizon then unleashed a bolt of lightning as thick as an arm, its light a bluish-purple! It struck directly above Hibiscus's head!

"Armor—protect you!!!"

"Snap!"

The blue armor flowed outwards like a stream of light, emitting silver and blue particles, which Furong barely managed to support.

She knelt on the ground, her body trembling, her hands raised above her head, her eyes fixed on the light that was as bright as day.

"Impressive. It's rare to see a wizard your age—a fifth-grader using the Armor Charm to this extent," Owen exclaimed. "However, you're still a bit behind Miss Granger."

"After six months of extracurricular tutoring, Miss Granger is now able to withstand my seven or eight regular spells in turn without her armor breaking."

"As top students from both colleges, I wonder how long Miss Furong can keep it up?"

With that, he raised his wand and flicked it lightly, and a disarming spell that flew close to the ground struck Fleur's slender arm directly.

"Oh dear! Looks like it's still not working!" A small, dark-skinned man squatted on the ground and laughed unrestrainedly.

"Your enemy is still in front of you, how can you focus all your attention on the lightning?"

Hoo hoo hoo...

(End of this chapter)