The stands fell silent for a heartbeat, then erupted into noise.
Everyone had seen the Bludger vanish into the clouds after Theodore's strike. Nobody yet knew where it had gone—only that it had been hit hard.
Down by the front row, Professor Quirrell stiffened.
A sharp, whistling roar cut through the stadium.
He had just enough time for his instincts to scream danger—
Then the Bludger dropped out of the clouds like a cannonball.
It smashed straight into his ribs.
There was a loud crack.
He folded over, eyes bulging, breath knocked clean from his lungs. For a second, the world narrowed to a tunnel of black.
The crowd gasped as one.
Then, as Quirrell clutched his side and croaked a Healing Charm, managing to stay upright, the mood flipped yet again.
Lee Jordan's voice galloped through the megaphone.
"He's hit! Professor Quirrell just took that Bludger square in the ribs—oof, you could hear that from here!"
"But look at that, folks—after a quick Healing Charm, he's still standing in the front row, eyes on the game!"
"That's the true spirit of Quidditch—never abandon your post!"
A wave of cheers rolled across the stands.
On his broom, Theodore felt a warm thread of merit settle over him from the system, and the corner of his mouth ticked up.
Good.
Stay there.
Professor Quirrell, you absolutely had to hold on.
On his system panel, new lines shimmered into being.
[The Sect Grand Tournament rages. On other platforms, Golden Immortals trade blows, Dao-light shaking the nine heavens. On your platform, Duobao's incarnation sneers coldly.]
["If junior disciples don't know the height of the heavens, a light correction is more than justified."]
[Clear immortal qi surges skyward. His Golden Immortal cultivation blooms. Though invisible, it makes the stars tremble; the world itself seems to peel away.]
[A Golden Immortal's might is irresistible. The host is no match. Surrender at once; with the Twelve Golden Immortals and Southern Pole Immortal watching, Duobao cannot openly slay you.]
Up in the air, Theodore's broom suddenly shuddered.
The jolt wasn't natural turbulence. The broomstick quivered like a living thing under his hands.
His eyes narrowed. For a curse to bite through a Nimbus 2000's protections at all, Quirrell's jinx-work—and the murderous intent behind it—had to be impressive.
Unfortunately for Quirrell, that still wasn't nearly enough.
A faint golden radiance rose along Theodore's fingers and washed through his body. Proved Diamond Body Never Fails activated, sheathing him in a barely visible, sacred glow.
The curse dissolved the instant it touched that light. It never even brushed the broom.
Below, Quirrell froze.
By rights, the Nimbus should already be bucking like a mad Hippogriff, tossing Theodore off.
Why was it flying so steadily?
Had the jinx failed?
High above, Theodore's gaze slid past him as if he hadn't noticed anything at all.
Then his mouth curved in a cold, almost polite smile.
If someone insists on delivering themselves to your door, it's only courteous to answer.
He leaned low over his broom, streaking through the air toward a different Bludger that was hounding one of the Gryffindor Chasers.
One smooth, effortless swing of his bat—
A ringing crack.
The Bludger shot away in a clean arc, its path bending just enough to force a Slytherin Chaser off the perfect line to intercept Angelina.
With the defence thrown off, Angelina tucked the Quaffle in and dived.
The Slytherin Keeper lunged—
Too late.
The ball sailed through the hoop.
Another ten points.
Angelina looped back around, laughing, and slapped palms with Theodore midair.
"Perfect screen!"
"Perfect shot," he replied, grinning.
Far behind them, the Bludger he'd sent flying punched through another cloud bank and dropped again toward the stands.
This time, it drew a brutal curve straight for the back of Quirrell's head.
The professor, still glaring upward and muttering fresh curses through clenched teeth, never saw it.
He only heard that same, hateful whistle a second before impact.
Again?!
Is there no end to this?!
His hastily-cast Protego shattered like a soap bubble.
The Bludger—loaded with just a sliver of Theodore's killing intent via Staff Mastery Reaching the Divine—still had more than enough force left.
It smashed into the bridge of Quirrell's nose.
Another sharp crack.
His nose broke cleanly; white-hot pain exploded behind his eyes.
Lee Jordan nearly howled into the megaphone.
"He's done it again, everyone—Professor Quirrell has been hit twice by the same Bludger! Two direct hits, and we're barely out of the opening minutes!"
"Clearly, Professor Quirrell and that Bludger have a very… special relationship!"
"He's healing himself again—well, his nose is still a bit crooked—but look, he refuses to leave the stands!"
"This—this is true Quidditch devotion!"
The stadium shook with the answering roar.
Quirrell swayed where he stood, one hand clamped over his face as he muttered more curses, eyes bloodshot and locked on Theodore like a predator on its prey.
He refused to accept this.
He absolutely refused.
Today, he'd staked everything: his dignity, his sanity, his life.
Either the Bludger killed him first… or he would see Theodore fall.
There would be no retreat.
On Theodore's system panel, the crimson text deepened almost to black.
[Under Golden Immortal pressure, every bone in your body cries out, ready to snap—yet you raise your sword and strike.]
[The blow is so dazzling that Duobao's incarnation, certain he had you fully suppressed, is caught off guard. A single strand of his hair drifts down.]
[Duobao's incarnation flies into a rage. Unless he crushes you openly upon the arena today, his thoughts will never be satisfied, his Dao heart never at peace.]
[This battle has become a contest of Dao hearts.]
Another swell of warm merit settled into Theodore's Origin Sea. He drew a slow breath, eyes glittering with icy light.
A battle of Dao hearts, is it?
Then Duobao's incarnation had chosen the wrong opponent.
By the system's own judgment, Theodore Ashbourne's Dao heart was invincible.
He guided his broom into a smooth climbing arc, once more intercepting the howling Bludger as it whipped back across the pitch.
The bat rose.
Crack.
The ball spun away, carving yet another ominous curve through the sky—its path, as always, aimed perfectly where Theodore wanted it.
At Duobao's incarnation.
At Professor Quirrell.
The system text appeared once more.
[You regard Duobao's incarnation with undisguised contempt.]
["In sheer power and magic, I can't match you."]
["But when it comes to a heart that refuses to break… I doubt you surpass me."]
["Today, if you want battle—then battle. We fight until one of us falls."]
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