Troll: I came quietly, as I quietly died.

The pristine brushstroke swept across the air.

As if cutting a gash in space itself, countless colors spilled forth from it.

They drifted in the air like scattered specks, resembling myriad illusory stars.

Hermione was stunned, her mouth hanging open, utterly captivated by the sight.

Her concept of magic had been stuck at the stage of "waving a wand," "shooting light beams," and "hitting the target."

She had no idea that magic could be so beautiful, so wondrous.

In the trio's line of sight, Ethan's lips curled slightly. He didn't need to exert any effort to control it; magic flowed naturally from the brush.

Painting was, after all, an expression of the soul.

It reached the same destination as spellcasting by a different path.

"Swoosh—"

The paint coalesced and morphed in midair.

In the end, it formed golden birds the size of a palm.

Their bodies shimmered with flowing light, chirping as they nimbly fluttered up and down, looking both beautiful and adorable.

One of them even circled around the three.

The trio couldn't help but smile.

Harry's round glasses reflected the birds' silhouettes, reminding him of the flying motorcycle from his dreams long ago.

Magical and fantastical.

It was his only solace in a dreary reality.

But soon, The Troll's heavy roar yanked Harry back to his senses.

The three-meter-tall behemoth was now less than ten steps away!

So close that Harry could see the boils growing on the Troll's head, could make out its angry, greedy little bean-like eyes.

"Roar—!"

The Troll excitedly raised its club, ready to smash these four little morsels into pulp.

In its eyes, these creatures holding tiny sticks had no power to resist at all.

One crunch per bite.

As for those chirping birds fluttering in the air, they weren't even enough to fill the gaps between its teeth.

The Troll's meager brain simply ignored them entirely.

"Ethan!"

Facing the threat, Harry tightly gripped Ethan's robe, wand in hand, his mind a blank.

They should run.

But Ethan—how could they leave Ethan alone?

Ethan must have come looking for them when he noticed they were missing!

Ron had already squeezed his eyes shut.

He cowered behind Ethan, muttering, "Crazy, all of you are crazy."

Whether it was trust in Ethan or not was unclear.

The moment the club was raised high, Harry's body moved faster than his mind.

He dashed in front of Ethan in a single stride, arms spread wide, facing the club about to fall.

...What am I doing?

Time seemed to slow down.

Harry stared blankly at the club as thick as a bowl's rim, his mind involuntarily imagining the scene of himself being turned into "Harry paste."

He should have forcibly dragged Ethan and run.

Even if he stepped forward, he couldn't block it at all.

In the end, he still couldn't protect anyone.

Though he was looking at the Troll, a blinding green light flashed before Harry's eyes.

The next second.

"Go."

A soft command rang out from behind Harry.

Cool as a spring.

In the corner of his eye, a white paintbrush stained with pigment.

The tip of the brush, pointing straight at the Troll!

On the other side.

"What? You say Mr. Vincent is missing?!"

Professor McGonagall stopped abruptly, glaring at the girl before her.

Penelope Clearwater, the Ravenclaw prefect-in-waiting, nodded anxiously and said:

"Sorry, Professor. By the time I noticed, Ethan was already gone."

"..."

Professor McGonagall pressed a hand to her forehead, her head buzzing.

That Ethan kid, he really had no sense of discipline...

Come to think of it, she hadn't deducted any points from Ravenclaw yet.

Professor Snape chimed in from the side, his tone dripping with sarcasm:

"Perhaps our great Mr. Ethan Vincent thinks he can take on a Troll single-handedly and has gone off to deal with it himself."

"After all, he did take down a Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, didn't he?"

At this moment, for some reason, Professor Snape was the most relaxed of them all.

He didn't look the least bit worried.

Professor McGonagall shot her colleague a dissatisfied glance.

She couldn't agree with Snape's irresponsible remark.

The students' safety was paramount.

Still.

Everyone knew that, according to Professor Quirrell, the Troll should be in the Dungeon Classroom.

If Ethan had gone elsewhere, it certainly wasn't to seek out a duel with the Troll—

"ROAR!!!"

An inhuman roar came from the other end of the corridor.

Everyone froze.

Even Snape's leisurely smile stiffened.

They exchanged glances, all showing expressions of alarm.

Penelope, Robert, and Sean also looked at each other in shock.

—That was unmistakably the sound of a Troll!

It wasn't in the Dungeon Classroom; it had come up here!

And the missing Ethan might very well have run into it!

"Heh, idiot."

Sean muttered under his breath, imagining in his mind the arrogant brat spending a fortnight in the Infirmary.

"Quick, let's go!"

Professor McGonagall shouted at once, running as fast as she could.

Professor Snape, who had been so relaxed moments ago, now wore a grim expression.

Everyone rushed toward the source of the sound.

The professors and a few senior Ravenclaw students sprinted around the corner.

What appeared before them was an unbelievable sight.

—A golden meteor.

Several golden meteors, streaking across most of the corridor!

Like arrows of gold, their trailing tails carried an aura of sacred inviolability, slamming their target hard into the wall at the far end!

"Boom!"

A low sound like a drumbeat, the shockwave of sound making everyone's hearts tremble.

Stone shattered, dust billowed!

The blast of air swept back their hair, forcing them to close their eyes.

"This, this is—"

Prefect Robert forced his eyes open.

He looked into the smoke and dust, a glimmer of surprise slowly lighting up his eyes.

A figure, unexpected yet perfectly logical, appeared before them all.

Flowing black hair, cobalt blue eyes.

A few brilliant specks of paint swirled around him, adding a splash of color to the pale moonlit night.

The boy stood tall, his right hand pointing straight ahead, his feet naturally apart, one in front of the other.

Like a knight pointing a sword at his enemy, his cold, heavy gaze revealed an unshakable will.

There was clearly someone standing in front of him.

But there was no doubt.

At this moment, he was the guardian of these three children!

"Well, did you see it clearly, Miss Granger?"

A warm voice rang out.

Ethan Vincent put down his paintbrush, which transformed back into a wand in his hand.

He turned and smiled at the stunned little girl.

"Do you understand now how much magic influences a spell?"

In front of Ethan was the troll, pinned firmly to the wall, its granite-like skin pierced clean through!

Hermione's eyes were wide.

Her mind, usually so sharp in class, now ground to a halt, unable to process.

Staring at the wound, as thick as a wrist, she could only think one thing:

This was Avis?

Might as well call it a spear or a cannon!!

Coach, don't mess with me!!!

On the other side, around the corner.

Watching the scene and the troll that was barely clinging to life, Sean's face went completely dark.

He actually defeated the troll...

And with a single, fatal blow.

Who's the real monster standing here now?!

Sean didn't dare turn his head to see his colleague's expression.

Even without looking, he could feel the naked mockery in Robert and Penelope's stares!

Making his face slowly burn.