Hogwarts: I can load entries infinitely!

Flitwick's voice was slightly breathy, but his tone remained calm.

"So what exactly is going on?"

Slughorn wiped the cold sweat from his forehead and responded breathlessly.

"Fierius! It's a werewolf, and there's more than one! Pomona was bitten!"

Flitwick frowned when he heard this.

His eyes fell on the werewolf standing up slowly in the distance.

It was unusually large in size, its eyes glowed with scarlet light, and its body was surrounded by a layer of heart-stopping black energy.

What's even more frightening is that the broken ribs and torn flesh after the impact of the light ball are healing at an unnatural speed.

The vegetation around this werewolf withered into ashes, and the black energy was billowing. It was obviously more dangerous than ordinary werewolves.

"Knight of Stone Pier! Escort Pomona away!"

Flitwick directed the Knight of Stone Dune on a war horse to approach, his eyes still locked on the werewolf, with decisive calmness in his tone.

"Horace, can I leave the other one to you?"

Slughorn carefully handed Sprouniy into the hands of the Knight of Stone Dunes. The blood on his face was mixed with sweat, but he did not flinch.

He patted his chest and forced himself to calm down. Then he pulled out the wand from his waist and turned his eyes towards the underground classroom.

A twisted wolf face mixed with hair and flesh appeared in front of him. At this time, the wound on its face that had just been blasted by Slughorn's curse was healing at a terrifying speed.

There was a heavy breathing sound, and another figure slowly walked out of the shadows.

This was an even more terrifying werewolf, with facial hair and flesh twisted and entangled, smelly saliva dripping from the corners of its mouth, and red eyes burning with rage and hatred.

The wound on its face caused by Slughorn's explosive curse just now healed completely at a speed visible to the naked eye.

"Okay! Leave it to me! Damn werewolf!"

Slughorn cursed under his breath and tightened his grip on his wand.

"You are much uglier than ordinary werewolves! You really stain my eyes!"

The moonlight shone down, finally illuminating the terrifying figure.

To be honest, he didn't look like any normal creature at all.

The hair all over the body seemed to be cursed. It did not grow naturally from the flesh, but was like black parasites, shuttling between the flesh and blood, sometimes bulging and sometimes disappearing, exuding a sickening and twisted feeling.

His limbs are extremely uncoordinated. They look like a wolf, but they also have a weird bionic feel, as if they have been forcibly spliced ​​together.

The most terrifying thing is the human-shaped head - the facial features are arranged in no order, the eyes slide down to the chin, the nose is embedded in the center of the forehead, and the mouth is torn horizontally to reveal the white fangs.

The entire face was like a piece of mud that had not yet solidified, with flesh and blood flowing slowly in a strange way.

Slughorn watched all this with deep disgust on his face.

He covered his mouth and nose, trying to suppress the discomfort in his stomach, and couldn't help but curse in a low voice.

"Merlin's beard, this is more disgusting than the worst potion experiment I've ever seen..."

The werewolf seemed to be irritated by his expression, and he suddenly raised his head to the sky and let out a sharp roar. The sound had an ominous resonance and seemed to penetrate into people's minds.

"That's enough, I don't have time to accompany you to make these ghost noises!"

Slughorn suddenly raised his wand, with a hint of anger and nervousness in his voice, and blurted out the spell.

"Thunderbolt explosion!"

A beam of light shot towards the werewolf running towards him.

Bang!

Accompanied by a sharp spell, a blazing white beam shot out, directly hitting the werewolf that was running wildly.

"Bang!"

The violent explosion echoed in the air, and the shock wave blew away the surrounding dust and rocks.

The werewolf withstood the blow, and its right shoulder was blown to pieces with blood and flesh, almost completely disappearing, leaving only scattered bones exposed in the air.

However, what is shocking is that its speed has not slowed down at all, and it is still roaring towards Slughorn. The bloody wound is rapidly growing wriggling granules, which are healing at a terrifying speed.

Slughorn's scalp was numb at the sight, the fat on his face twitched, and his voice changed its tone.

"What's going on?! Is this a werewolf? It's just a monster!"

At this moment, the first werewolf had risen from the ground, roared, and dug its claws into the ground.

As it moved, the surrounding air seemed to be distorted, and a harsh "creaking" sound was heard. The black aura spread out with it as the center, quickly covering the entire battlefield.

This black energy seemed to be alive, squirming towards Flitwick. Wherever it passed, the ground withered and cracked, as if all its life force had been drained away.

"Super armor protection!"

Flitwick reacted quickly. He chanted a spell in his mouth, flicked his wrist, and a silver shield instantly unfolded around him, covering his whole body.

However, the moment the strange black energy touched the shield, his expression suddenly changed.

The moment the shield came into contact with the black air, it did not burst or resist. Instead, it quickly deformed and shrank like melted wax until it completely dissipated.

"What?! The power of decay?!"

There was a hint of horror in Flitwick's voice.

He immediately waved his wand and tried to cast another protective spell.

——

【bite! 】

[Loading copied entry: Descendants of Slytherin (red)...]

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[Descendant of Slytherin (Red): You are one of the best wizards in history, a descendant of Slytherin, and you have inherited many of his abilities, and most importantly, you have inherited his absolute desire for honor! The more honor you have, the stronger you become! On the contrary, the more people despise you, the smaller you become! 】

...

"Haha, I'm really looking forward to seeing what tricks you can perform, hunter..."

Voldemort's voice was drawn out with his usual sarcasm.

His fingers twirled the wand carelessly, his eyes showing cold contempt.

However, his tone suddenly stopped.

Voldemort's eyes were as sharp as a razor, staring at Devereaux.

He noticed some unusual aura - some powerful and dangerous force was slowly awakening, and the air seemed to be filled with a sense of oppression.

Devereux's figure seemed to have grown taller. Even though he stood motionless, he seemed to be integrated with the entire space, exuding an indescribable sense of majesty.

There was a certain long-lasting and profound aura in this majesty, which even made Voldemort frown involuntarily and tighten his wand.

"What did you do?"

Voldemort asked in a low voice, with a hint of fear in his voice unconsciously.

Devereux felt the surging magic power in his body, and he vaguely understood something in his heart.

His magic seemed to be integrated with the entire Hogwarts, as if every brick, every light and shadow were supporting him.

He thought of Slytherin's legacy of pride and determination, an unparalleled power: the gift of honor.

"Is this the effect of the inheritance of the four founders?"

Devereux murmured softly, feeling the surge of magic power in his body.

His power has exceeded his previous strength several times, and this is just the beginning.

He recalled the previous duels, when his name appeared on the headlines of the Daily Prophet, and those warm applause and praises now poured into his magic source like a spring.

If more people know the results of his research in the future - especially the potion to solve lycanthropy, how powerful will his power become?

A wave of heat surged into his heart, making Devereaux a little excited.

The corner of his mouth raised a meaningful smile, and he raised his head and looked directly at Voldemort, with undisguised confidence and provocation in his eyes.

"Tom."

Devereaux's voice was low and clear, with a hint of sarcasm in his tone.

"Don't you want to try your true power? Then come and have fun!"

——

puff!

"What?!"

Mesphilos suddenly jumped up from the chair, staggered and almost fell.

He stared at the mirror in front of him, and the scene reflected in the mirror made his pupils shrink. What was going on? !

"Glory and authority?! How is it possible! Slytherin is resurrected?!"

There was incredible surprise in his voice, and even his usual cheerful expression was replaced by surprise.

Mesferos took a deep breath and forced himself to look carefully at the scene in the mirror.

His eyes wandered over the young man, and his brows furrowed more and more.

"Wait, that's not right..."

He murmured in a low voice, as if he was arguing with himself, but also as if he was clarifying his thoughts.

His eyes were burning, as if he wanted to see the young man through the mirror.

"It's just the power of honor... It's just Slytherin's method... But the question is, how is this possible?!"

Mesferos clenched the back of the chair so tightly that his joints turned black.

He quickly sorted through his knowledge and memories, his thoughts rushing like a storm.

"This ability can only be passed down through blood, unless..."

His voice stopped suddenly, and his eyes turned to Devereux's figure in the mirror again.

This time, there was a complex expression on his face, including shock, doubt, and a hint of indescribable excitement.

"The true master of honor..."

He spoke in a voice so low that it was almost inaudible, but every word seemed to weigh a thousand pounds.

"Ability to perfectly withstand any honor and praise, without being corrupted or blinded, and even able to transform these into strength..."

He stared at the young man with piercing eyes, as if he was peering into an incomprehensible puzzle.

"It's so interesting. This is the so-called born Slytherin! So, Dumbledore chose him..."

(Third update! The fourth update will be posted tomorrow! Note, this book is by no means a prison sentence!)