The final event was a spellcasting competition.
Dumbledore once again aimed his wand at the Book of Merlin and gave it a wave. With a sudden bang, the Book of Merlin snapped shut. Faint whispers drifted from it as a wisp of smoke slowly rose from its cover, floating down before the contestants. At last, it transformed into a middle-aged wizard with indistinct features. What stood out most were his deep, wise eyes, remarkably similar to Dumbledore's.
Skylar could not help saying, "Merlin?"
The man smiled faintly at the four contestants. "Heh heh, I never expected to have the chance to be summoned again after all these years. You talented young people, tell me—are you the challengers of this trial?"
What? Challengers? Wasn't this supposed to be a friendly competition? When had it turned into a trial?
Percy answered first. "Honored predecessor of the magical world, greetings. We are students of Hogwarts, currently taking part in a friendly competition called Merlin's Trial. May I ask if you are the final challenge of this competition?"
The man pondered for a moment, his gaze shifting toward the professors' table. He exchanged a brief look with Dumbledore, who gave an almost imperceptible nod. The man turned back and said softly, "An inter-house competition? Interesting... Young people, you may consider me Merlin. I am a fragment of his memory, sealed within the Book of Merlin, quietly awaiting the arrival of challengers. You are correct—I am the final stage of this... how should I put it? This competition. You must duel me. Of course, you need not defeat me. You only need to successfully take my wand from my hand. You may challenge me separately or fight side by side. Any means are permitted."
As he spoke, the man gave a small beckoning gesture. A