Practice Makes Perfect

For the first time, Zhang San felt the wonder of magic. The feeling of having everything under his control was truly intoxicating—though all he had done was turn a thick matchstick into a thin wooden strip, every master of Transfiguration started by transforming matches.

After setting Zhang San on the right track, Professor McGonagall began the new lesson—transfiguration between different materials.

Today's goal was for the young wizards to grasp the key techniques of turning matchsticks into metal needles, allowing them to find the feel of transforming one substance into another through hands-on practice.

Zhang San somewhat understood why Hogwarts had a seven-year curriculum. This was basically four years of vocational school plus three years of junior college.

The only difference between Hogwarts and other vocational schools was that they did not train chefs, excavator operators, welders, beauticians, or hairdressers. The skill they taught was spellcasting.

They only taught methods of casting spells here. Hogwarts' objective was to teach young wizards how to cast magic, not to make them understand the fundamental principles of magic, much less cultivate their ability to research it.

Researching magic was something Hogwarts students did after graduation. If you aspired to delve further into magical research, you could apply to become a professor after graduating.

In the wizarding world, Hogwarts professors were roughly equivalent to undergraduates who had upgraded from vocational college, as well as postgraduate students pursuing further study.

The heads of the four houses, meanwhile, were equivalent to academicians and doctoral supervisors. They were all masters in their respective fields. Their understanding of magic had not been learned at Hogwarts, but gained through long years of work and research.

Following that line of thought, Zhang San immediately understood why Tom Riddle had tried so desperately to submit his résumé to Hogwarts, and why he had applied again even after being rejected by Dumbledore.

Only by becoming the Defence Against the Dark Arts professor could he rightfully read the orthodox Dark magic books in Hogwarts' Restricted Section. If Dumbledore had truly approved Voldemort's application back then, allowing him to study genuine Dark magic, Voldemort—evil to the core—would definitely have been even harder to deal with.

It was not just Tom Riddle. The magical theory of all four Hogwarts house heads had only improved by leaps and bounds after they became professors at Hogwarts.

The reason had to be that Hogwarts had opened up more, and more profound, magical knowledge to them.

The regular section and the Restricted Section were two entirely different realms of magic. The former taught you how to use magic, while the latter was filled with abstruse and dangerous magical theories, as well as all kinds of untested magical concepts.

That was the true foundation of Hogwarts, a magical academy with a thousand-year legacy. So long as the inheritance of knowledge endured, Hogwarts would never lack exceptionally talented and powerful professors to guard it.

Now that he had his own spectral wand, Zhang San finally possessed the ability to cast spells. Even without reaching the Night Roaming Realm, he could interfere with reality through magic without possessing someone.

This was absolutely a tremendous boon for him. At last, he no longer had to beg others to help him with everything. Take eating every day, for example—Zhang San could choose what he wanted to eat, light incense for himself, and make his own offerings.

After Professor McGonagall finished explaining the casting method, the young wizards began their free practice. Hermione, nicknamed Little McGonagall of Gryffindor, quickly grasped the key technique.

With an elegant wave of her wand and a spoken incantation, the matchstick before her instantly turned into a metal needle as thin as a hair.

The only flaw was that the needle had no eye, so its details still needed refinement. But for a young wizard attempting transfiguration between different materials for the first time, this was already no easy feat.

Things were much livelier on Harry and Ron's side. Seeing the way Zhang San wielded his wand, they thought it looked incredibly cool. So they copied his movements, randomly drawing sword forms in the air that vaguely resembled the real thing.

"Velavito!" Harry and Ron shouted the incantation in unison, and the matchsticks before them exploded.

Seamus Finnigan was overjoyed. So he was not the only demolition maniac at Hogwarts—Harry and Ron were kindred spirits too!

Tears in his eyes!

Once the black smoke dispersed, Harry Potter and Ron Weasley, their faces covered in soot, looked at each other and burst out laughing at the sight.

Childish boys, Hermione thought, then continued attacking the matchstick before her. She was not particularly satisfied with her earlier transfiguration. She wanted to create the finest, most exquisite metal needle.

Zhang San watched his two good buddies and rubbed his forehead. "I guarantee that what you were thinking just now was, 'Siri's swordsmanship is so amazing. I really want to learn it...' Please, you can't let your mind wander while casting. You were thinking about swordsmanship while using a Transfiguration spell. That matchstick must have died with its eyes open."

Harry and Ron looked sheepish. It was not entirely their fault that their minds had wandered. Zhang San's spellcasting style was practically from another world compared to theirs. They were both using wands, so why did his posture look so cool?

Whether you were strong was a matter for now; whether you looked cool was a matter for life!

"Aguamenti." Zhang San used his spectral wand to conjure a ball of water and wash the faces of those two unlucky fools.

You chose your own brothers, and no matter how dumb they were, you had to put up with them. Harry and Ron awkwardly washed the soot from their faces, then perked up and prepared for another attempt.

Zhang San silently drifted away. He felt that those two would blow things up again next time. They would not give up "practicing swordsmanship" so easily. Swordsmanship was an art of killing—if they swung their wands with sword techniques and their spells did not explode afterward, that would be the strange thing.

Why did Zhang San's spells not explode, you ask? Please. Zhang San had practiced martial arts for more than seven years since the age of four. Every day, he tempered his bones and strength with precious medicinal herbs; one day of his training was worth five days for anyone else.

Sabers, spears, swords, halberds, axes, polearms, hooks, forks, lances, staffs, whips, batons, hammers, claws, crutches, meteor hammers... hooked weapons, bladed weapons, pointed weapons, winged weapons, Emei needles, chained weapons—the eighteen kinds of weapons, Zhang San had mastered every single one.

His title as the strongest body cultivator among his peers had not been boasted into existence, but beaten into existence. Which young cultivator had not been pummeled by Zhang San? He might not rank among the best in spells, but in physical combat, he was practically a bug.

He could no longer simply be called a martial artist. Calling him a body cultivator was more accurate. Zhang San's skin was so tough that, when he circulated his cultivation, he could take talismans to the face. Ordinary spells striking him felt like a spring breeze brushing his cheeks.

The question was, if Zhang San could withstand Daoist arts, why could he not withstand chomping big melons?

The first reason was that Quirrell's chomping big melon had actually used Voldemort's malicious intent. The gap between Zhang San and Voldemort's realms was simply too great, and Zhang San had not circulated his cultivation to bolster his physical defenses. As a result, he took the full force of the Killing Curse and instantly died on the spot.

The second reason was that the Killing Curse was an especially peculiar spell. It did not harm the body at all. Its operating principle was to sever the connection between the target's body and soul, directly defining them as dead.

How was Zhang San supposed to withstand that? Chomping big melons was neither physical damage nor magical damage. It was fucking rule-based damage...

That was enough of the digression. To sum up why Zhang San could turn sword techniques into spellcasting gestures while Harry and Ron could not—

There was only one answer—nothing else, just practice makes perfect!