The newest line on the System panel flashed, and Theodore glanced from it to the feather duster in his hand.
Right. Demon-Slaying Sword. Obviously.
At least now he was pretty sure how he was supposed to "slay demons and purge evil."
He stepped into the Restricted Section.
At once, the text on the System screen turned a lurid, blood-dripping red, as if someone had decided subtlety was for cowards.
[WARNING! A serpent demon lies ahead—swift as lightning, its venom can slay immortals. RETREAT IMMEDIATELY!]
Theodore's heart gave a reflexive jump and he tensed—
Only to see a book on the nearest shelf wobble upright.
On the cover, stamped in dark ink, were the words: Walking With Serpents: Nineteen Transformations of the Snake.
The spine slithered like a scaled body, the bookmark between its pages flicking out like a tongue.
A normal first-year probably would have screamed.
To Theodore, it was… cute.
He reached out lazily.
The book went rigid as if it had just met its natural predator and flopped flat, playing dead.
Theodore's mouth curled.
"That's it. Good book."
"Now behold… demon-slaying."
He flipped it open with one hand and, with the solemnity of a monk tending a relic, began dusting the cover and the cracks between the pages with the feather duster.
Only when Walking With Serpents was spotless did he tuck it under his arm and stroll back out of the Restricted Section.
The System sounded like it had just watched him stagger back from a battlefield.
[After a fierce battle, you finally bring down the serpent demon. Though no match for it at first, its strength had long been eroded by years of suppression in the Demon Grotto. With the Guardian Immortal's Demon-Slaying Sword in hand, you held a natural edge.]
[By the narrowest margin, you slew it and escaped with your life.]
Outside, Madam Pince clapped a hand over her mouth the moment she saw the book in his hands, eyes shining.
"Walking With Serpents: Nineteen Transformations of the Snake? Merlin's beard—this one hasn't turned up in the cleaning logs in a hundred and twenty-three years. It slithers into every crack and corner like a real snake."
"Let me see—oh, look at this! You didn't even use Scouring Charms, and it's spotless. Perfect."
"I was afraid the books might be too much for you, but clearly, you're more than capable."
"If you truly manage to clean the whole Restricted Section, Theodore Snow, I'll owe you more than I can say."
The System, naturally, added another dramatic flourish.
[The Guardian Immortal is greatly pleased by the serpent demon's corpse you have brought him—cleanly slain, one strike to the vital point.]
[He had assumed that a young Chan Sect disciple like you, so devoted to cultivation, would lack battle experience. Even armed with the Demon-Slaying Sword, he doubted you could handle demons unaided.]
[Now he sees your prowess in combat is truly exceptional.]
[He beseeches your aid in purging the Demon Grotto, promising generous rewards once the deed is done.]
[SYSTEM WARNING: Your cultivation is far too shallow. Surviving a serpent demon was already a miracle. The Grotto's depths swarm with demons, each stronger than the last. Know your limits. TURN BACK WHILE YOU STILL CAN.]
Theodore ignored the flashing red warnings and flashed Madam Pince a sunny smile instead.
"Slaying demons and purging evil—ah, no, I mean, keeping the books clean and tidy—is the duty of every Hogwarts student," he said solemnly.
"Otherwise, once volume after volume crumbles away, what will future students read?"
Then he turned, Demon-Slaying Feather Duster in hand, and plunged back into the stacks.
[WARNING! A Golden-Furred Howling Beast lurks ahead. One roar can shatter heaven and earth, its blood-qi shakes the skies.]
[Your mortal body will be annihilated in an instant. ESCAPE!]
A few minutes later, Theodore emerged again, this time holding a book that looked suspiciously like the Monster Book of Monsters gone feral—a chain-bound, snarling volume with pages for teeth.
He pinched it by the spine and jammed the feather duster straight into its mouth, scrubbing mercilessly between every fang.
[You engage the Golden-Furred Howling Beast in fierce combat, seizing your chance to stab the Demon-Slaying Sword straight into its maw. By fortune, you succeed in destroying it.]
[The sounds of battle draw more demons to your location.]
[A Blood Fiend and a Soul-Devouring Demon hasten toward you, eager to vent centuries of rage on a Chan Sect disciple. FLEE AT ONCE!]
Theodore's gaze drifted to two books on the next shelf: one seeping red "ink" onto the floor, the other emitting faint, agonised wails.
Under his look, the "blood" slurped itself back into the pages in a panic, and the screaming cut off mid-wail. Both books froze like students trying to blend into the wallpaper.
Theodore strode over and lifted the feather duster.
"Come now. Which one of you was dripping red ink just now?" he asked pleasantly. "Be good and let me scrub you."
"And you—the one that was screaming. Mouth open. You were loud enough earlier. Let's hear you again."
Hours slipped by.
By the time Theodore set the feather duster down to stretch his aching shoulders, the pile of books beside him towered several times higher than he was tall.
A quick count told him there were already over a hundred.
He let out a breath.
That should qualify for the first tier of rewards, at least.
Even without magic, just using the feather duster, it was exhausting work—even for him.
And yet, the dust he'd cleared was nothing compared to the sheer volume left untouched. The Restricted Section, if it were to be fully cleaned, would be a monumental project.
Still, the System had said he only needed to "slay" ten thousand demons to claim the final pill recipe.
Ten thousand books, ten thousand "demons."
It was insane… but not impossible.
As for Madam Pince's promised repayment, he wasn't too worried about that.
He gathered the cleaned books into several neat stacks and carried them out.
Madam Pince nearly fainted.
"Oh my goodness—you cleaned this many?"
"Look—this biting book, it hasn't had its teeth scrubbed in two hundred and sixteen years!"
"And this one, the blood-dripping Dark Arts volume—records say it was last properly cleaned by a librarian three centuries ago!"
"By Merlin, Theodore, you've cleaned one hundred and two books in a single day. That breaks every record in the last hundred years. Thank you, thank you so much!"
"You're the most noble, book-loving young wizard I've ever met. You're bound to become someone extraordinary."
The System translated this into its usual idiom.
[After several hours of brutal struggle, you stagger out of the Demon Grotto, having escaped a siege of countless demons—with 102 demon corpses in tow.]
[Seeing you drenched in blood and the ground outside littered with demon carcasses, the Guardian Immortal is overcome. Tears stream down his face.]
[He raises his head to the sky and cries out: "My Dao is not alone! At last, one has appeared to inherit the path of demon-slaying!"]
[He proclaims that your future is limitless. One day, you will surely become a pillar of the Chan Sect—a mainstay of the righteous way.]
Theodore's expression went… complicated.
I dusted a bunch of books, he thought faintly. And now I'm a pillar of the righteous path?
Still, his focus snapped quickly to the line that mattered most.
[Your relationship with the Guardian Immortal has reached Casual Acquaintance.]
[You obtain the talent reward — Reversed Demonic Source!]
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