Hogwarts, a Scholar Becomes a God

“I call by covenant;

Request by blood;

Use me as a weapon;

A sacrifice of magic. "

"In response to the call of the Holy Grail, if you are willing to follow this principle, respond immediately."

Clark's chanting voice, which sounded like gold and iron, echoed throughout the auditorium, much louder than the voices of the three people just now.

Not only that, his voice was extremely contagious, making all the little wizards who heard his words suddenly feel as if they saw magic power gathering, condensing, sublimating, and overflowing like clouds, mist, frost, and snow.

Like the sun, moon and stars, hanging high in the sky.

At this moment, the huge amount of magic power suddenly gathered made Clark's body seem to have lost its original meaning, turning into a small component in a huge cycle, connecting mystery and reality.

"I swear this."

"You walk through time, traveling back and forth between the past and the future."

"Knowledge is yourself, mystery is your decoration."

"Fairness is your motto, strength is your accessory."

"Your throne will be lifted high above the stars. Come answer my call!"

The last sentence finally came out of his mouth, and the long chant ended at this moment. Even Clark felt that he was almost exhausted at this moment.

His spiritual power was like a flood that opened a floodgate, pouring out towards the spirit-summoning array in the center of the magic array, only to be fully accepted.

It seemed that it was not a magic circle, but a circular portal connecting to another world.

Relying on the particularity of spiritual power, Clark's soul seemed to have passed through a colorful passage, arrived at an unpredictable and unknowable place, and briefly established contact with a mysterious existence.

"Can!"

The next moment, as this slightly familiar voice sounded, the chaotic magic power around the magic circle quickly shrank towards the center of the magic circle without the need for holy relics.

In the center of the magic circle, the spiritual power that Clark had poured into the magic circle spurted out again, mixing with the gathered magic power.

Just like that, a young heroic servant shrouded in a dark blue starry sky robe slowly revealed his body.

In the eyes of everyone, all the light in the room seemed to converge on him, making him the focus of the moment.

However, there are no features, and his name is unknown. Even the appearance of this heroic spirit cannot be seen clearly because of the starlight mist covering his face.

But no one could underestimate him, because the moment he appeared, he looked at Clark's face with a serious look.

"Are you my master?"

The summoned heroic spirit can actually speak? This is something that even the Hammer God Thor couldn't do!

The three principals, two referees, and the professors present all took a deep breath.

The so-called heroic spirits refer to those heroes who have left great achievements in human history and become legends and even objects of belief after death. They have become existences similar to totem spirits.

This kind of elves formed by the faith of all living beings can be said to be the earliest form of belief in gods. They often form a symbol of the ignorant era together with shamans, Dru Yin and wizards.

Since then, with the advancement of civilization, this kind of totem spirit, which was extremely inefficient in the utilization of faith, was gradually replaced by faith in gods. The term "heroic spirit" was also lost in the pile of old papers, and was slowly forgotten by people.

It was not until this Triwizard Tournament that the British wizards revealed the summons to the heroic spirits as a necessary condition for starting the battle for the Holy Grail.

However, due to the changes of the times, even gods cannot appear in today's world. Naturally, unlike in ancient times, there are enough personalities and circumstances to allow the complete arrival of "heroic spirits".

What Clark and the others summoned through the spirit summoning ritual were just clones that could borrow part of the power of the heroic spirit.

These ghost clones have no personality consciousness, cannot communicate and think, and only have the most instinctive stress response. They must also reside in the body of the summoner in order to resist external pressure and stay in the real world.

Therefore, they can only be called "followers".

But the "servant" Clark summoned now was a little different. He was actually able to say a complete question.

This means that this "follower" retains wisdom, and it also means that the body of this follower must be more powerful than the bodies of several other followers.

Clark stretched out his right hand and replied: "That's right!"

The nebula filled the air and the magic flowed across the sky. The mysterious servant just dissipated and turned into an abstract mark on the back of Clark's right hand that resembled both a scale and a book.

Although Karkaroff and others are curious, they also know that this heroic spirit servant is the trump card for each warrior to face in the next competition event. They will not tell others about their servant information, and it is naturally impossible for others to share the information. Tell yourself.

So after Clark stood on the teacher's stage again, the entire Triwizard Tournament warrior selection ceremony came to an end.

Dumbledore walked to the front of the stage and looked at the little wizards who had just recovered from the series of strange scenes.

"Today, the four warriors of the Triwizard Tournament were finally selected. This was a joint choice of each school and the Goblet of Fire. It was unanimously recognized and endorsed by each academy and the Ministry of Magic of each country.

In the next six months, they will be deeply involved in the competition, compete with each other, support each other, and make progress together.

I believe that all of you here can also put aside your prejudices, have goodwill towards all warriors, and support them.

Make a greater contribution to this event by cheering for the Warriors. "

Dumbledore's official words drew sparse applause, but he didn't care.

"Okay, it's getting late, I think you should go back to bed and enjoy your dreams."

The little wizards began to get up one after another, and the creaking sounds of the benches dragging on the floor came one after another.

After Dumbledore finished speaking, he looked back at Mr. Crouch with some concern, "Are you really not going to stay at Hogwarts tonight, Barty?"

"Yes, Dumbledore, I must go back to the Ministry."

Crouch decisively refused.

"It's a very busy and difficult time right now... Now this special situation has happened again, and I asked young Wes to take charge temporarily... Fortunately, he is very enthusiastic... To be honest, if it weren't for him, I didn’t even get a chance to come out today.”

"Well, why don't you at least come over and have a glass of wine before you go?" Dumbledore said.

"Come on, Barty, I'm staying here and I won't leave!" Bagman said happily, "This all finally happened smoothly in Hogwarts, right? Although there were some twists and turns, but It’s so much more exciting and fun here than the office!”

"I don't agree, Ludo." Crouch's tone showed his usual impatience, "This is just the beginning, there are still a lot of things we need to do later."

"Especially in the following games, people from other countries may also watch. The situation of this game will represent the image of the entire British Ministry of Magic..."

Crouch was still talking to Bagman, while Dumbledore was also talking to the other two principals.

"Professor Karkaroff—Madame Maxime—would you like a nightcap?"

However, Madame Maxime had already put her arm around Fleur's shoulders, leading her quickly down the teacher's platform and out of the auditorium through the side door.

Clark could hear them talking rapidly in French as they left.

Karkaroff also said hello to Krum, and the two left without saying a word.

Dumbledore shook his head helplessly, then smiled and said to Bruce, "Mr. Stewart, I think you should go back to bed now. After all, you may have something to do before going to bed."

Bruce Stewart nodded without saying a word, and the leaving little wizards disappeared into the crowd together.

When everyone was almost gone, he looked at Clark with a smile.

Clark looked at him with the same smile, "The plan went well, didn't it?"

Dumbledore smiled and nodded, "Indeed, but the other party should also have seen our plan, and they should be prepared this time. Don't overturn it when the time comes."

Clark waved his hand disapprovingly, "I would have been careful even if you didn't tell me, but this is our home court, and the plan is this way, even if there are slight changes, it won't hurt."

"Okay," said Dumbledore, "since you're sure, I won't be a nuisance to you old guy anymore."

He smiled and waved his hand as if to shoo Clark away.

"I think all the Gryffindors are waiting to celebrate with you. They finally have an excuse to make a fuss, and it would be unreasonable to take away this opportunity from them."

"Well, good night, Mr. Principal!" Clark said goodbye and left the auditorium.

When he walked to the foyer, he found that it was also empty and everyone had left.

No, there is still one person left!

Bruce Stewart, who had left one step early, walked out of the shadow of the stairs.

At this time, the flame in the brazier was already very weak due to time, and the flickering light made the smile on the other person's face flicker and look weird.

"So, we are rivals again!" Bruce said with a forced smile.

"I think so," Clark smiled back at him, but no one knew how sincere the smile was.

"You don't seem too excited. This is a warrior of the Triwizard Tournament!" Bruce said.

Clark glanced at him expressionlessly, "You're not too excited either."

Bruce sighed, "Actually, I don't want to be this warrior..."

"Stop! Stop!" Clark reached out to stop him and continued, "It's useless for you to tell me this. Since the Goblet of Fire has chosen you, you must complete the Triwizard Tournament."

"Don't worry, I won't give up." Bruce laughed.

Clark also said very calmly, "I will not show mercy."

The two of them did not continue talking, and walked along the stairs in different directions.

The Gryffindor common room was in the tower. Clark walked up the stairs and soon came to the portrait of the fat woman.

On this special day, the Fat Lady was not alone in her frame.

When Clark met the other warriors downstairs just now, the wrinkled witch who flew into a painting nearby was now sitting proudly next to the Fat Lady.

She must have dashed through every painting that lined the seven flights of stairs just to get here before him.

Both she and the Fat Lady looked down at him with great interest.

"Okay, okay, okay," the fat lady said happily, "Violet just told me everything, saying that you were just chosen as the school warrior."

"Yeah, it's such a surprise tonight," Clark replied very kindly, "Nonsense!"

"Absolutely not!" said the pale witch angrily.

"No, no, Violet, that's the command," the Fat Lady soothed, and she swung forward to let Harry into the common room.

The portrait was opened, and before Clark could climb in, a burst of noise suddenly poured into his ears like an oncoming wave, almost deafening him.

Then, a dozen hands stretched out from the hole and dragged Clark into the common room, facing all the Gryffindor students.

They were all screaming, cheering, whistling, and everyone was so excited.

"You should have told us you signed up!" Fred yelled. He looked half annoyed, half excited.

"Yeah, we're still your cousins," George yelled. "How can you get by without growing a beard?"

"Even if I sign up for you, the Goblet of Fire will only choose me." Clark retorted, causing the two brothers to raise their middle fingers.

At this time, Angelina also rushed to him like a whirlwind, "Oh, even if it can't be me, at least she is a member of Gryffindor——"

She gave Clark a big hug, which made Hermione's expression change instantly.

"We've prepared something to eat, Clark, come here and have some -" Ron held a plate in his hand, with several grilled lamb chops piled inside.

Clark waved his hand, "I'm not hungry, I ate enough at the banquet——"

But no one wanted to hear him say that he wasn't hungry. They pulled Clark to the edge of the sofa, held his shoulders, and then thrust a plate full of food into his hands.

Lee Jordan dug out a Gryffindor house flag from somewhere and insisted on wrapping it around Clark like a cloak.

Clark didn't resist this much, and the crowd moved closer to him, surrounding him, saluting him with butterbeer or forcing cookies and peanuts into his hands.

Everyone wanted to know how he did it, how he managed to get past Dumbledore's age line and put his name into the goblet.

Clark was open to toasts and answered all their questions.

But after hearing Clark's method, they could only shake their heads and sigh, and gave him a thumbs up.

After all, becoming a warrior is not a sure thing.

There is no need to waste one or two years of your life for an opportunity.

After about half an hour like this, Clark finally finished dealing with these enthusiastic little wizards, and then used the power of his psychic powers to make them ignore him and hurried upstairs back to the dormitory.

As for Hermione and Neville? After discovering that Clark could not answer their questions today, these people had already gone back to the dormitory to sleep.

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