Bar Cellar

When Sam brought back the last piece of wizard trash, Vincent had just caught up with the progress.

This lucky fellow got to enjoy a full thirty blows.

"Your Transfiguration is pretty good."

Sam randomly picked a new lucky fellow. "What do you mean, my Transfiguration is pretty good?

"I have a certificate, and I got Outstanding in everything!"

He slammed his fist into the man's stomach, making his face turn green from pain.

Vincent jerked his chin toward the shop owner. "What certificate do you think I could get?"

He transformed the outline of the entire man's back into densely packed, fine steel needles. Any slightly forceful breath would puncture his skin.

"Barely enough for an Intermediate Transfiguration Certificate."

"So, O.W.L. level?"

As Sam walked toward the shop owner, he looked back and curled his lip. "How would I know about your British exam subjects?"

Vincent drew his Ebony wand and gathered the wands of all thirteen pieces of wizard trash to one side.

"What about this?" He snapped the fingers of his right hand and cast a Fire-Making Spell silently and wandlessly.

"No—" Even more heart-wrenching screams rang out in succession.

The flames ultimately landed on one of the wands.

Sam's mouth twitched violently.

When it came to ruthlessness, Vincent was still the worst—using these pieces of wizard trash as human punching bags before finally burning their wands in one go.

"For Nonverbal spells and Wandless Magic... I should qualify for an Advanced Charms Certificate, right?"

After saying that, he restored every fine steel needle.

The process took only an instant, with no visible difference.

Transforming something was easy, but changing it back safely was difficult.

Vincent had gained a new understanding of Sam.

"Way—Night Wraith, quite a few more customers have arrived outside."

"I'll be quick."

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