Chapter 316
In the training room of the Room of Requirement, Will's voice was calm and earnest, while Sylvia stood opposite him, gripping her wand steadily with a focused expression.
"Sectumsempra is a potent attacking charm," Will explained. "It is Dark magic, and its characteristic is that the wounds cannot be healed by regular healing spells; only a specific counter-curse will work."
With a gentle flick of his wand, a deep cut instantly appeared on the arm of the dummy not far away, as if sliced by an invisible sharp blade. "You try."
Sylvia nodded. "Sectumsempra!"
"Whoosh!"
The Blasting Curse exploded not far away, blowing the training dummy to pieces. Rufus Scrimgeour's figure was drawn long in the training ground's lights, for he had been training desperately every day lately.
Sweat trickled down his jaw and dripped onto the floor.
Reducto.
Without chanting, the Blasting Curse shot out silently, blowing up a training dummy in the distance.
Reducto.
Another dummy was shattered.
Yet he was unsatisfied. The speed was too slow; it took 0.8 seconds from raising his hand to casting the spell. In a real battle, 0.8 seconds was enough for an opponent to counterattack—in his mind, he recalled the black-robed wizard and the gold in Kabuto's pocket once more.
"Continue."
He resumed. With a "crack," his figure appeared above a distant dummy, his wand aimed downward as he cast simultaneously: "Stupefy."
Then Scrimgeour's figure vanished again with a sharp pop, reappearing in another spot.
Apparate, raise hand, cast spell, adjust, go again. Scrimgeour's gaze remained steadfast throughout, like an untiring lion.
Ever since that night, he had begun this form of near-masochistic training.
That black-robed wizard's words had lashed him like a whip: "You are too weak, too dull, and you fail to make progress."
Scrimgeour admitted that