Will did not dwell on it.
For one thing, the severed hand's magical structure did not last long; within minutes, it began to show signs of collapse. For another, he still had experiments to conduct that night.
He drove the second werewolf's magic into one finger. When he severed it with a Soul Annihilation-enhanced Sectumsempra, the second werewolf returned to normal.
The werewolf still suffered terribly, though, and his screams were just as loud.
The severed finger behaved much like the severed hand.
Will was in a good mood—the work was going smoothly.
But things changed with the third werewolf.
Will forced the third werewolf's werewolf magic into a tiny spot at the tip of one finger: a patch of flesh only a few millimeters thick.
Will was testing how little damage it would take to turn a werewolf back into a human. Surely everyone he "treated" could not end up missing a piece of themselves. If the wizards he made all lacked something, what was he supposed to call them—"partial wizards"?
Naturally, Will wanted his creations to be as close to perfect as possible.
He cut away that tiny patch of flesh, and the werewolf began to scream. Will thought the treatment was complete, but it was not. The werewolf magic remained at the wound instead of disappearing.
Magic was unlike matter in three-dimensional space. It could exist without volume. Losing that piece of flesh had not deprived it of a vessel and made it vanish; if anything, the werewolf magic seemed to cling more tightly.
Will relaxed some of the Werewolf Venom Curse's restrictions. The Werewolf Venom Magic surged in again, and one of the man's fingers transformed back into a werewolf's.
Will frowned. That's not right. Damage to both body and soul should definitely affect magic.
His