Exploding Liver

Sirius stood on the left, wand in hand, looking somewhat bewildered.

He was also summoned here around this time last year, having just returned home for the holidays, and it was also to test his Magic progress, but this time Orion personally took charge.

As a result, he was beaten so badly that he couldn't fight back and lay on the ground for a long time, unable to get up. In the end, his father left him alone and went to work in the Study next door.

But this year is different; Orion has asked him to play against Regulus.

Sirius's mind isn't working properly; he's fighting Regulus?

He knew what Regulus did at Hogwarts: he taught fifth-year students in his first year and seventh-year students in the second semester, and he was treated like a treasure by the professors in class, always receiving special tutoring.

But those are all just hearsay.

He had never seen Regulus actually make a move, except for that time on the school express train last year, but that time was too fast; James's spell was frozen and disintegrated, and it was over before he could even see the process clearly.

Later, James said he was going to cause trouble for Regulus, but when he returned, his face was as cold as ice. Remus did recount what happened, but it sounded like something a typical junior wizard would say, and it wasn't very detailed.

A thought flashed through his mind, "Should Regulus be able to beat me now?"

This thought made him resentful; he acknowledged Regulus's talent and admitted that his younger brother had been different since childhood.

He could cast Magic at the age of three, Reverse Transfiguration at the age of five, and had already surpassed many younger wizards before entering school.

He also knew how much Regulus had sacrificed for power, spending hours sitting in the Library and practicing late into the night in the Attic. If he wanted to see him at school, he could only wait for him at the Library.

But Sirius is also Black, and even if he dislikes or even loathes the surname, it's undeniable that no one with that surname is less gifted.

He was a year and a half older Regulus and had attended school for an extra year; he was also a figure who could make a name for himself at Hogwarts.

Who doesn't know the Marauders at Hogwarts?

Night outings, pranks, fights with Slytherin —he never lost a fight.

What's wrong with him?

He wanted to try, to see just how big the gap was between him and Regulus, and to see what the thing Regulus was desperately chasing really looked like.

Sirius snapped out of his thoughts and uttered a single word, "Okay."

He looked at Regulus, but Regulus didn't look at him; his gaze was fixed on Orion's face, his eyes seeming to ask, "Are you serious?"

Orion met his gaze and nodded very slightly.

Regulus understood; his father meant to give him a beating.

Let Sirius understand the importance of strength, make him realize that he should become stronger, even if it's just through the most primal drive of wanting to fight back when he's hurt.

Regulus felt this was necessary.

Sirius is gifted; he can master Animagus, though it was for his friend, so he could be with Lupin the Werewolf on the night of the full moon.

However, Animagus is an advanced application of Transfiguration, requiring extremely strong Magic Power control, patience, willpower, and luck.

There were only seven registered Animagus in the UK Wizarding World throughout the 20th century, and Sirius's ability to become one proves that he was quite talented.

The problem lies in the driving force.

Sirius never had a subjective desire to become powerful.

He learned Magic for fun, for pranks, and for adventures with his friends.

He cultivated Animagus for friendship, not for power itself.

This drive allows him to master specific skills, but it doesn't propel him to systematically and continuously improve his overall strength.

Regulus was different; he had already planned his path, a path that required power as its foundation and strength as its guarantee.

He must contend with Voldemort's threat, Protection his family, survive potential future conflicts, and reach for the Starry sky.

Each of these goals requires him to become stronger, even stronger.

He hoped to inspire Sirius's own pursuit of Magic, not necessarily with any grand ambitions.

Even if it's just to protect friends, to be able to fight back when danger comes, or to avoid becoming a burden to others, any of these reasons are acceptable.

But Sirius doesn't see that now; he only sees friendship and adventure, blind to the undercurrents hidden beneath the calm surface.

In the original story, Sirius eventually dies in the Department of Mysteries at the Ministry of Magic.

Sirius's death was directly caused by an accident resulting from negligence in battle, but at a deeper level it was the inevitable consequence of him deliberately stepping into danger to protect Harry.

It can't be said that their deaths were entirely worthless, but they certainly weren't of much value either.

His death was not a voluntary sacrifice, but a tragic accident.

If he had stronger skills, better tactical awareness, and more cautious judgment, the outcome might have been different.

Regulus didn't want to see that outcome.

Even if Sirius chooses to stand against his family and fight for his beliefs and friendship, he still hopes that Sirius will have enough strength to protect himself and survive.

So give him a beating, let him taste the power of strength, and see if it can ignite anything.

Regulus looked at Sirius, said nothing, and strode towards a corner of the Training Room. He stopped ten feet from the wall and turned around.

Sirius moved to the opposite corner.

The two bowed, raising their wands to their chests and slightly bending over.

Orion's voice came from the side. "Begin."

Orion retreated to the wall, leaning against it with his arms crossed.

He looked at his two sons in the arena, holding onto a tiny sliver of hope.

What if?

What if Sirius, like Regulus, possesses a hidden talent that he simply doesn't usually display?

He only mentioned this idea to Regulus once in private, and never brought it up again.

Asking that question again would make him seem unrealistic and not mature enough.

But looking at Sirius, he couldn't help but wonder, what if...?

On the field, Regulus neither raised his wand nor assumed a fighting stance.

He held his wand in his right hand, which hung at his side, his body relaxed as if he were taking a stroll.

He took a step and walked towards Sirius, not fast, one step, two steps, his steps were very light, and he didn't even make a sound when he landed.

Sirius assumed the standard wizard duel stance, left leg forward, right leg back, lowering his center of gravity, wand raised to shoulder level, tip pointed at Regulus.

He could tell that the other party had no intention of attacking first, or even using their wand, and that feeling of being looked down upon ignited his anger.

"Stupefy!"

A red beam shot out from the tip of the staff, flying straight toward Regulus's chest.

Regulus neither dodged nor blocked; the red light struck the air an inch in front of him, exploding into a ball of Mars before dissipating.

A very faint Silver Light flashed across his body, like ripples spreading across water, but the area was very small, appearing only for a moment on his chest before disappearing.

Those were Magic Power ripples from the Constant Shield Charm when it withstood an attack, but because the protection was too strong or the attack too weak, the ripples were so small that they were almost invisible.

Sirius gritted his teeth and continued swinging his staff.

"Rictusempra!"

"Expelliarmus!"

"Incendio!"

"Diffindo!"

"Repelling Charm!"

Five spells, each a different color and with a different trajectory, flew toward Regulus from different angles.

Regulus continued walking forward, his steps unwavering.

Red, blue, and orange light shone on him, like raindrops hitting a windowpane, creating tiny Spark Spell before disappearing.

A faint glint occasionally flashed across his skin, but his clothes didn't even wrinkle.

Sirius flushed red; he had never seen such a duel before.

The opponent didn't even raise his wand, relying on some kind of Protective Charm to keep moving forward, as if his attacks were less than annoying flying insects.

Anger, shame, and disbelief—had Regulus really gone this far?

He even suspiciously held the wand up to his eyes to examine it closely—was it a fake wand?

Was he switched by Kreacher, just so Regulus could act out this scene to humiliate him?

He shook his head, dismissing the absurd thought, and continued Spellcasting.

This time, we'll use something even more powerful.

"Confringo!"

The spell struck Regulus in front of him, exploding into a burst of fire and air. Regulus was at the center of the explosion, yet not a single hair on his head was disturbed.

"Confringo!"

An even stronger Explosion Charm; this time, the air distorted half a meter in front of Regulus, and the shockwave was visible to the naked eye.

But the result was the same; Regulus did not stop and continued walking forward.

"Cutting Curse!"

A silver arc of light streaked through the air, slashing towards Regulus's neck. The arc struck the barrier, producing a sharp scraping sound.

But it was still no use; the spell lasted for half a second before dissipating into Light Point.

Regulus was now three steps away from Sirius.

He had a clear understanding of Sirius's level; he didn't rule out the possibility of a breakthrough, but his foundation was what it was.

The level of Hogwarts' outstanding second and third-year students is not even top-tier.

Moreover, Sirius only stands still and attacks without even basic movement.

It's outrageous that such talent has been wasted to this extent.

Regulus gave him no more chances. He suddenly quickened his pace, taking two steps to cover the last three meters and standing in front of Sirius.

Sirius flushed red with anger and shame, his hand gripping his wand trembled, and he glared fiercely at Regulus.

Regulus met those eyes, the same gray pupils as his own, but now burning with fire—burning with resentment, burning with the question, "How dare you question me like this?"

Regulus's face was expressionless, calm, and indifferent, as if he were examining an object.

"Is that all?" he asked flatly.

Sirius's breath hitched; they were too close, too close for him to raise his wand any further.

He wanted to yell back, to tell Regulus not to look down on people, but the words stuck in his throat, and he couldn't utter a single one.

Regulus had no intention of using Magic.

He reached his left hand under Sirius's right arm, placed his palm against Sirius's right rib, and then exerted force.

"Well--"