This is Herman's dream, something he created in his own mind, so why should he listen to an outsider sitting here and making irresponsible remarks?
"That makes sense," Herman said, then changed the subject, "But unfortunately, with Dumbledore, you can't take me with you. And here, it seems I'm the one in charge."
The moment he finished speaking, Herman focused his attention, trying to make the chair beneath him float.
The chair moved.
It was about half a foot off the ground, hovering in mid-air, steadily supporting Herman.
Herman couldn't help but smile slightly, feeling like the first time he rode a broomstick—knowing he wasn't good at it, but still feeling happy when he actually took flight.
He then turned his gaze to the long table between the two of them.
The table also floated up, paused in mid-air for a moment, and then the tabletop began to flow. The original wood grain swirled like stirred water, and the color changed from wood brown to silver, the surface so shiny that it could reflect a person's image.
In the blink of an eye, two armored warriors emerged from the table. Layers of silver armor plates covered their bodies, and the longswords they carried were similar to the armored replicas Herman had seen in the corridor, but with blades even sharper than the real thing.
At the same time, the chair beneath Gori moved.
Thin vines sprouted from the armrests and back of the chair at the same time, growing rapidly and wrapping around Gori from her waist to her shoulders in the blink of an eye.
The vines were still tightening, squeezing the dark robe on Ge Gori until it was all wrinkled.
"I suddenly realized that this is my dream, and it's my place to be in charge."
After Herman finished speaking, the two armored warriors simultaneously raised their greatswords and slashed down at Gori.
Gori watched the greatsword swinging towards him, his expression remaining completely unchanged.
He didn't even struggle; the vines binding him didn't affect the expression on his face, but rather revealed a look of satisfaction.
"Truly worthy of being Child of Prophecy. At such a young age, his mental strength surpasses that of ordinary wizards, and he is also remarkably clear-headed."
When the greatsword struck the top of the Gori, his body suddenly disintegrated.
It was as if someone blew a puff of smoke into the air; the smoke dispersed into wisps in mid-air, drifting out through the gaps in the vines, and then gathered again behind his chair, solidifying into a human shape.
The greatsword missed its target, striking the chair instead, sending wood chips flying everywhere, which slammed onto the ground with a screeching sound.
"However, even so, there's still a gap between us." Gori sat down again, speaking slowly, even taking the time to brush non-existent dust off her sleeves.
"Really? Then let's try this trick."
After Herman finished speaking, he turned his attention to the floor of the entire practice room.
The floor began to vibrate. The stone slabs, pieced together, sank down one by one, their movements as synchronized as turning the pages of a book, revealing a dark red light behind each fallen slab.
The collapse started at Herman's feet and spread outwards, quickly turning the entire ground into a churning mass of lava.
The dark red liquid bubbled and occasionally burst into a bright yellow spark, with heat waves surging upwards from below.
As the stone slab beneath Gori feet sank, a pair of wings suddenly sprouted from his back.
Its wings are large, with a structure like a bat's, where a membrane covers the skeleton, and the vein-like patterns inside are clearly visible on the grayish-black skin.
With a gentle flap of its wings, it lifted Gori off the lava-covered ground.
"That's not enough." The Gori floated in mid-air, looking down at Herman, its tone unhurried.
"It's not over yet."
As Herman uttered those words, the lava on the ground began to churn.
First, huge bubbles appeared, then it was as if something pushed upwards from below, and the entire magma surface suddenly rose up, forming a wave more than a person high, which swept over Gori.
In the Gori, a hand is raised, and that pale hand waves in the air.
The giant wave split in the middle, cascading to both sides and revealing an empty passage in the center.
But before he could even breathe a sigh of relief, the giant wave, which had broken in two, suddenly changed shape.
The magma on the left and right sides gathered and condensed, turning into two giant hands with their five fingers spread out and then closed together.
The moment the two giant magma hands collided, a dull thud was heard, and sparks burst from between their fingers, scattering in all directions.
Herman stood on the lava floor. The lava beneath his feet didn't burn him; in fact, it felt warm, like soaking his feet in hot water.
He stared at the two giant, clasped hands and clearly felt that the discomfort that had been gripping his consciousness had disappeared.
That feeling is hard to describe.
It's like a hair falling on your face—light and insignificant, but it's always there, making you want to reach out and brush it away.
Now that hair is gone; he's banished it from the Gori.
Herman let out a long breath, and the lava floor began to cool slowly, its color changing from dark red to grayish-black, and finally back to stone.
He sat down in his chair, feeling a bit of a headache, probably from all the commotion he'd just gone through.
But just then, there was another knock on the door.
Herman abruptly raised his head and looked in the direction from which the sound came.
A door appeared out of nowhere on the stone floor after the lava cooled.
It was the same size and color as the door to the Room of Requirement, standing there as if it had always been there.
The door was pushed open again under Herman's watchful gaze.
The sound of the door hinges turning was exactly the same as before—slow, drawn-out, as if someone was deliberately making the door turn inward little by little, giving the person inside enough time to see who was coming.
Gori walked in, the hem of her long robe trailing across the cooled stone floor, a faint smile still on her face.
He stood at the doorway, first looking around the practice room, which had been restored to its original state. His gaze swept from the mannequin to the crucible, from the crucible to the water tank, and finally landed on Herman, where he nodded.
"Very good, they can get rid of me."
Herman didn't respond, waiting for him to continue.
"But clearly, you haven't mastered how to close the door yet." The Gori says, taking a step forward, its tone gentle, like a teacher commenting on a student's work. "You can shoo away uninvited guests, but you haven't locked it. I knock, and it opens again."
Herman looked at his face, and the anger in his heart flared up again.
He didn't bother with any more words and immediately refocused his attention on the ground.
After cooling down and returning to its original stone slab state, the practice room floor glowed a dark red light once more. One by one, the stone slabs flipped down, and lava surged up from below, even faster than before.
This time, instead of spreading the lava evenly across the entire ground, he concentrated all the lava towards the doorway, pressing it into a wave that was thicker and wider than before, and it surged towards Gori and the door behind him.