The Noble Physical Arts!

Of course, Kane was among those who fell silent, feeling that something was wrong—very wrong.

At that moment, he scratched the back of his head in bewilderment and muttered, "Could he really be some kind of talent monster?"

After all, whether Dumbledore had been giving him private lessons or someone else had been tutoring him in secret, if he truly had not the slightest bit of talent, reaching this level would have been extremely difficult.

Take that precious specimen Filch, for example. Even if Dumbledore personally gave him one-on-one lessons for two years, his chances of successfully casting Lumos would still be below one percent.

It sounded a little like a personal attack, but it was the truth.

On the duelling platform, Professor Lockhart seemed to be thoroughly enjoying the astonishment of the young wizards and professors. Coupled with his previously abysmal performances in upper-year classes, he suddenly experienced the sheer satisfaction of playing the fool before revealing his strength.

After this duel, he should be able to regain his dignity in those upper-year classes.

At that thought, Lockhart's mouth gradually twisted into a fierce grin. He was ruthless, absorbed, and utterly unhinged. With a light flick of his wand, he looked so arrogant that he was only missing the words, "All of you, come at me together!"

But the rules naturally did not allow that. Just like that, the entire Duelling Club seemed to become a stage for Lockhart alone to display his skills. The difference was that the young wizards could not stop cheering, while the upper-year students and professors wore faces as dark as thunder.

The former thought it was clearly strange that Lockhart was so ferocious in battle yet taught such incomprehensible classes. The latter, meanwhile, could not figure out where Lockhart had learned these spells,