Thank You, Professor

Tom glanced at them, dismissed them, and sat down to pull out his Herbology book.

His roommates had been unusually well-behaved these past few days; he wasn't sure if they had been cowed by his discipline or were simply brewing trouble in the shadows.

Tom couldn't be bothered to care. As long as they didn't provoke him, they could coexist in peace, but if they dared to stir up trouble, he had plenty of ways to deal with them.

Saturday arrived in a blink. After finishing breakfast, Tom and Daphne dragged Hermione along to quickly polish off the next week's assignments, then slipped off to the eighth floor with a clear objective: finding the Room of Requirement.

While the Study Space was powerful, it only allowed his mental projection to enter; casting spells there consumed no magic, providing no feedback for real-world practice.

Tom knew that wizarding duels weren't just about comparing raw magical power; combat experience, reaction speed, vigilance, and even luck could all influence the outcome.

Andros had also been urging him to train in reality, to let his body memorize the sensation of casting.

After much thought, only the Room of Requirement was suitable; it could provide a safe venue while allowing him to adjust the difficulty.

The Room of Requirement and the Headmaster's office were both on the eighth floor, but one was in the main building and the other in the South Tower, so they weren't exactly close.

Tom wasn't worried about running into Albus Dumbledore, unless the old man got lost and couldn't find his office again.

There were few rooms on the eighth floor, and the walls were lined with many tapestries. Tom soon found his target: a tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy Bashing the Trolls.

On the tapestry, Barnabas was foolishly trying to teach trolls to dance, getting beaten black and blue while continuing to explain himself—it was ridiculously stupid.

Tom found it uninteresting after a moment and turned his attention to the smooth wall opposite the tapestry. He focused his mind, pacing back and forth between the tapestry and the wall while chanting silently.

"I need a room with mushrooms." He paced three times; the wall trembled slightly, but no door appeared.

Tom didn't give up and chanted again: "I need a room with an RPG." The wall trembled again, but still, no door.

He shouted, "I need a room with a hundred AKs!" This time, the wall didn't even twitch.

Tom's face fell as he grumbled, "And this is supposed to be the Room of Requirement? Either my demands are too high, or the founder's magic is too trashy to even conjure modern firearms."

Andros, inside the Study Space, rolled his eyes. "Stop messing around! You're here to train, not to build an armory. Get serious!"

"Fine, fine." Tom reluctantly paced again, this time focusing on a place suitable for spell practice.

After three passes, a door appeared abruptly on the wall—a wooden door with a brass knocker, as if it had been there all along.

Tom pushed the door open, and candles ignited automatically, illuminating the spacious area.

It was about half the size of the Great Hall, filled with dozens of dummies made of various materials, from wood to steel, clearly intended for spell practice.

[Host has discovered the 'Room of Requirement', gained 50 Achievement Points]

"This many?" Tom's eyes lit up.

"Night-wandering in other classrooms only gave two points, and the Trophy Room was only five. This actually gives fifty—ten times as much!"

With this, his total Achievement Points exceeded three hundred.

Tom stroked his chin, calculating, "It seems special locations grant more points. Professors' offices, secret passages, maybe even Albus Dumbledore's office might give even more."

After muttering to himself, Tom put those thoughts aside and prepared to train, flicking his wand. "Start with the basics and progress gradually. After all, I'm so outstanding, I shouldn't be too flashy."

He aimed at a wooden dummy and fired a red light: "Reducto!" The red light struck instantly, and the dummy exploded with a boom, turning into a shower of splinters.

Tom's expression didn't change as he aimed at the next one. This level of power was rare even among adult wizards.

His magical power far exceeded his peers, and with Andros's guidance, his understanding of the Blasting Curse was profound. He had intentionally held back just now; at full strength, he could likely shatter a steel dummy.

Tom knew that compared to raw power, casting speed and accuracy were more important. If you couldn't hit your target, even the greatest power was useless.

For a time, colorful spells flew wildly across the room. Stupefy, Petrificus Totalus, and Flipendo were fired in succession, hitting their targets with precision.

He deliberately slowed his pace, trying to let his body memorize the instinct of casting and feel the flow of magic.

Before long, dozens of dummies had been blasted into fragments, but after a ripple of magic, the pieces automatically reassembled. Within thirty seconds, they were restored to their original state and began moving along tracks.

"Oh, so they can become moving targets?" Tom raised an eyebrow, looking at the Room of Requirement with newfound respect. "More useful than Quirrell, at least it allows for advanced training."

After a short break, the training resumed. The moving dummies weren't particularly fast, and Tom's accuracy reached ninety percent.

Fifteen minutes later, the dummies were wiped out again. After they reassembled, their speed doubled, and each dummy now had a number on its head.

"You want me to blast them in numerical order?" Tom's mouth twitched. "This difficulty jumped from Easy to Hell. Are you playing with me?"

The dummies were not only fast but frequently overlapped and blocked each other. Straight-line spells were useless; he had to make his spells curve.

Tom scratched his head and gave up, saying, "No choice, time to use a cheat. Andros, I'm counting on you!"

He activated the "Physical Practice" function, handing control of his body over to Andros.

The next second, a hearty laugh erupted from Tom's mouth, his tone excited: "Hahaha! Finally, I can feel the sensation of flesh and blood again. It feels so good to be alive!"

"Less reminiscing, you only have seven minutes, hurry up!" Tom urged in his mind. "Your approval rating of me is sixty-three, just enough for seven minutes. Don't waste time."

Tom felt something marvelous; his body seemed to possess instinct. He could think his own thoughts while his body automatically cast spells and moved, and he could clearly feel the feedback—the flow of magic was even clearer than when he cast spells himself.

He secretly mused that this function would be more aptly named "Spirit Possession."

"Don't worry, just observe and learn." Andros quickly entered the zone. Tom's eyes turned sharp, and he flicked his wrist: "Stupefy!"

A white light traced a graceful arc, bypassing the overlapping dummies and striking the eighth dummy, which exploded into powder.

"Reducto!" "Diffindo!" "Severing Charm!" Andros spoke with extreme speed, reciting three spells.

Although he could cast silently and instantly, he spoke aloud for the sake of demonstration.

The three spells fired simultaneously, hitting the ninth, tenth, and eleventh dummies from different angles, the order of their destruction precise to the millisecond.

"Remember this feeling!" Andros explained while he worked. "Let your heart follow your intent; the wand is an extension of your body. Only then can you cast freely, even silently and instantly."

Tom activated his Transcendental State. The world slowed down in his perception; every subtle movement of Andros and the rhythm of the magical flow were clearly captured, quickly memorized and digested.

In less than thirty seconds, over twenty dummies were cleared. Without waiting for the room to repair them, Andros used magic to piece the dummies back together and began a new round of demonstration.

In those seven minutes, he cleared eleven rounds. It wasn't that he lacked the strength, but that Tom's magic was running dry.