Hogwarts: I graduated before the system came

Douglas retracted his wand and glanced at the charred corpses on the ground with no expression on his face.

He turned around, looked at the completely shocked Valerius, and ordered in an unquestionable tone:

"Mr. Assistant, please go to the woods and pick out a dozen of the thickest oak trees."

Then, he turned his gaze to Marco:

"You, stare at him."

PS:

The Imprisonment Spell: Studied by Professor Holmes. This spell is a conceptual barrier, not a physical barrier. Casting involves a blend of Latin and Eastern syllables, using a wand to draw runes that disappear into space, creating a three-dimensional magical field. Its core effect is "mirror backlash": the more aggressive and malicious the intruder, the more intense the sense of oppression. They will feel walls squeezing them, echoes distorted into curses, and companions transformed into enemies. They will also experience disorientation and become lost in the illusions of their own rage, ultimately leading to a breakdown of sanity. The barrier's appearance remains unchanged, except for the thickening of the air. It specifically targets creatures driven by emotion (such as werewolves and furious berserkers) and is ineffective against harmless targets. Essentially, it transforms space into a "mirror reflecting internal negative emotions," using the enemy's own hostility as a weapon to achieve mental confinement and disintegration, surpassing the passive nature of traditional physical defensive spells.

Electric Snake Spell: A chain-killing spell developed by Professor Holmes. The caster unleashes a highly compressed stream of silvery lightning, silent and precise. Its core feature is its "intelligent transmission": after striking its first target, the lightning automatically searches for and catapults towards the next enemy with intense hostility, using their body as a node, creating a silent, continuous, and destructive onslaught through the enemy horde. This spell is a highly effective group-eliminating tool, designed to achieve surgical precision without the wasteful mana of traditional area-of-effect spells. Warning: The spell's transmission path strictly follows hostility strength; do not use it on a battlefield with allies.

Chapter 420: Miraculous skills, Taoist's carpentry work!

Marco froze for a moment and subconsciously wanted to respond, but his brain had not yet fully processed the command.

Looking for a tree?

Now?

doing what?

Valerius was completely bewildered.

He is a vampire noble who has lived for centuries, a conspirator, and the leader of a faction of the Red Moon Brotherhood.

He was used to issuing orders and also used to interpreting the hidden meaning behind the orders.

But he couldn't understand Douglas's instruction at all.

Seeing that the two did not move, Douglas added, his tone still gentle:

"Marco, you go with him. It's okay, we're all family now."

The three words "one of us" were like an invisible whip, lashing Valerius's stiff back.

He shuddered violently, snapping out of his shock.

He no longer wondered why, nor did he dare to ask any more questions.

The imprint of the contract deep in his soul, like a loyal hound, reminded him that every word of his master was an absolute and unquestionable truth.

"Yes, Professor Holmes."

Valerius lowered his proud head deeply, and his voice carried a hint of deference that he himself had become accustomed to, without even noticing.

Marco glanced at the vampire beside him, then at Douglas. Although he was also confused, his trust in Douglas had risen to a level of almost blind obedience.

He nodded without hesitation and said in a deep voice, "Yes, sir."

The two men walked out of the mine one after the other.

Valerius walked in front, his noble robe was already tattered, but his movements had regained a touch of the elegance of the ancient blood clan.

Instead of using brute force, he stretched out his pale fingers and murmured in an ancient language towards the thickest and oldest oak trees in the mountains and forests.

That is the magic of the vampires, a way to communicate with the shadows and death in nature.

The shadows at the roots of the oak tree he had chosen began to twist and wriggle, as if coming alive.

Those tough roots broke off silently. With a dull creaking sound, a giant tree that required several people to hug slowly fell towards him, as if in awe.

During the entire process, there was no flying wood chips or loud noises, only an eerie, submissive silence.

Marco followed behind, watching this scene with a solemn look in his eyes. He could sense the cold and corrupt power contained in that magic, which was completely different from the wild natural power of the werewolf.

He clenched his fists, his vigilance towards this new colleague not diminished in the slightest by the other party's obedience.

Soon, more than a dozen huge oak logs were pulled by Valerius' magic like docile livestock and dragged back to the cave of Echothroat.

When these huge logs were neatly placed in the center of the cave, the werewolves of the Ash Claw gathered around, looking at them curiously and whispering to each other.

Lupin also came over and looked at Douglas with a searching look in his eyes.

Douglas offered no explanation.

He walked over to the thickest log and drew his wand.

Everyone's eyes were focused on the tip of his staff.

He uttered no spell, simply tapped his wand lightly against the huge, gnarled trunk.

"Om-"

A low, resonant sound rang out.

The next second, everyone held their breath.

Countless tiny wood chips, like a swarm of golden bees controlled by an invisible hand, were instantly peeled off the logs, flying and circling in the air.

The logs shrank and deformed at a visible rate, their rough bark and uneven textures rapidly polished and reshaped by the storm of flying sawdust.

Douglas's wrist flicked gracefully, and his wand traced smooth and precise paths through the air. It was no longer a battle, but a near-miraculous artistic creation.

After just over ten seconds, the wood chip storm suddenly stopped, as if the pause button had been pressed, and then turned into golden dust, falling down.

The rough log had disappeared from the original spot. In its place, there was an exquisite...coffin.

It is a work of art full of mysterious oriental aesthetics.

The whole body is as dark as night, and the surface is as smooth as a mirror, reflecting the dancing light of the torches in the cave.

The lines of the coffin are smooth and elegant. It does not have the heavy and oppressive edges of Western sarcophagi, but instead has a soft curve like flowing clouds and water.

The most amazing thing is the patterns inlaid with fine silver threads on the coffin lid and coffin body.

It was not a religious cross or angel, and certainly not a vampire style, but rather complex star tracks and flowing auspicious cloud patterns.

Those silver threads seemed to be not inlaid in the wood, but growing out from the inside of the wood, blending perfectly with the dark black coffin, full of mysterious and solemn beauty.

The entire cave was silent.

The werewolves were stunned. They had never seen anything so beautiful.

Lupin was also stunned. He had never imagined that the powerful Transfiguration could be used so... poetically.

As for Valerius, his breathing completely stopped the moment he saw the coffin.

His dark red pupils stared at the coffin, first with shock, then confusion, and finally, turned into a fanaticism that was almost obsession.

As a vampire noble who has lived for centuries, he has seen countless treasures.

But he only used wealth and power, not obsessed with them.

The only thing he is stubborn about is his almost paranoid aesthetic inherited from his ancient family.

In his view, the Western sarcophagus was just a bulky, cold, and aesthetically pleasing stone box, a cage used to imprison corpses.

But the coffin in front of you is not a cage, but a palace.

It's a work of art.

It awakened a forgotten memory deep in Valerius's blood.

There is also a similar coffin in his family's oldest tomb under Transylvania.

Several centuries ago, a Muggle nobleman who was keen on collecting rare treasures from the East brought it back from the distant country where gold was said to be everywhere after going through untold hardships.

Later, the stone oriental coffin came into the hands of their family and is now being used by the duke who has been sleeping for three hundred years.

Although the one in front of me is made of wood, the permanence of the material is far inferior to that of the family sacred object.

However, the exquisiteness, the charm, and the unique philosophical beauty of eternity and rest that belongs to the East are exactly the same.

Valerius instinctively felt that this was the final resting place for a noble, immortal vampire.

His heart, which was filled with fear and humiliation, was at this moment occupied by an intense and uncontrollable desire.

He even forgot his identity as an assistant teacher and how terrifying the man in front of him was.

He stretched out his hand obsessively, but suddenly stopped an inch away from the coffin, his fingertips trembling slightly with extreme desire.

He didn't dare touch it, as if it was a sacred artifact that could only be admired from afar.

He slowly turned around and looked at Douglas. For the first time, all the conspiracy and calculation faded from his dark red eyes, leaving only an almost pilgrimage-like enthusiasm and humble hope.

He took a deep breath and asked in an aural, trembling voice:

"Professor Holmes... please forgive me for being so presumptuous. Such... such a perfect work of art, what does it... what does it symbolize? What kind of... suitable owner will it welcome?"

"So, Professor Holmes...is this...is this...for me?"

He asked this question almost holding his breath, a faint, flattering hope flickering in his dark red eyes.

"As a token of my loyalty to you?"

Chapter 421 My family’s carpentry skills are well-known in Transylvania!

Douglas's gaze did not even linger for a second on the noble's face distorted by fanaticism.

His gaze passed Valerius and fell on the charred bodies still twitching on the ground in the center of the cave.

"Do not."

he said softly.

“This is for them.”

These few words were light and airy, but they were like an invisible hammer, fiercely smashing all the light that had just ignited in Valerius's eyes.

The expression on his face froze at that moment.

It was a feeling of rupture, falling from extreme desire into the abyss in an instant.

First there was confusion, then disbelief, and finally, it turned into a pain even deeper than when he was just trapped in the net.

"Put...put on this kind of artwork..."

His lips trembled and every word seemed to be squeezed out from between his teeth.

"To those...vulgar beasts who only know how to bite and howl?!"

Lupin???

Marco???

His voice suddenly rose, filled with the sharpness of offense.

"This is blasphemy! Mr. Holmes, this is a crime against beauty, against eternity, against all that is noble!"

He took a step forward excitedly, his dark red eyes burning with flames of heartache.

"Mr. Holmes, this is blasphemy!"

Instead of begging, he adopted a tone of heartbroken advice.

"To display such a sacred work of art alongside those filthy beasts is not only an insult to your work, but also a challenge to order and beauty itself!"

"Please allow me to maintain the dignity that this work of art deserves, both for you and for this work of art! Please allow me to prepare containers befitting the status of these former colleagues."

He straightened his chest, trying to show his last bit of value.

"My family's carpentry skills are renowned throughout Transylvania! I can use my fingernails to carve the most ancient resting runes into oak, ensuring their souls... well, their bodies will remain safe from the scavengers of the mountains!"

Douglas finally glanced at him.

There was neither approval nor mockery in his eyes, only a hint of amusement, as if he was examining a new tool.

"can."

Valerius' heart skipped a beat.

"I want thirteen." Douglas extended his wand and gently tapped the exquisite oriental coffin. "Finish it before dawn."

He flicked his wrist, and the coffin that carried all of Valerius's desires quickly shrank in the air and turned into a palm-sized model.

Douglas threw it casually.

The small work of art drew a graceful arc in the air and fell towards Valerius.

Valerius almost pounced on him.