A chime echoed in Erwin's mind.
[The 10-pull lottery has ended, and rewards are being distributed!]
Spell Proficiency x900!
Erwin blinked in surprise. Was that it? He'd been half-joking about the system's stinginess, but this felt like a slap in the face. Nine hundred points on top of the guaranteed gold reward? It was better than nothing, but hardly the windfall he'd hoped for.
[The guaranteed gold reward has been drawn!]
[Congratulations, host! You have received: a targeted skill!]
Targeted Skill: All your single-target attacks now include built-in tracking and guidance!
Erwin frowned, turning the description over in his head. Homing attacks? In magic? It sounded gimmicky at first—wands weren't exactly heat-seeking missiles. But then it clicked, and his eyes widened.
This could change everything.
As any wizard worth their salt knew, the Killing Curse couldn't be blocked by spells. Avada Kedavra was a death sentence, swift and unyielding. Only a handful of countermeasures existed, each more desperate than the last.
The first was the ancient sacrificial protection, like the one Lily Potter had woven around her son. It deflected the curse outright, trading one life for another's safety—a passive shield born of pure love. Unbreakable, but utterly plot-armored; only two people in history had pulled it off. Lily, shielding Harry from Voldemort's rage, and later Harry himself, marching into the Forbidden Forest to destroy the Horcrux within him. In that moment, the protection transferred to everyone in Hogwarts, rendering Voldemort's spells useless against them. Erwin had always rolled his eyes at it—pure narrative convenience, defying all logic.
The second was Priori Incantatem, triggered by twin wand cores. During the Triwizard Tournament, Harry's Expelliarmus had clashed with Voldemort's Avada Kedavra, forcing a spectral standoff. Wands that shared a core couldn't harm each other fatally; the curses rebounded in a dazzling display of echoes from the dead.
Then there were Horcruxes—splitting the soul to cheat death. Hit with the Killing Curse, and you'd just reform elsewhere, like a phoenix bursting into flame only to rise anew from the ashes. Outrageous, but effective. Erwin made a mental note: Fawkes could make one hell of a shield.
Exploiting the Elder Wand's loyalty was another loophole. If its true master wielded it against you, the curse fizzled—Harry had turned that trick on Voldemort, leaving the Dark Lord cursing his luck.
And for the everyday wizard? Duck behind a wall, a pillar, anything solid. Magic couldn't stop the green light, but good old physics could. Harry had survived more Avada Kedavras that way than Erwin cared to count. Poor Voldemort—always one step short.
But now, with this targeted skill? It bypassed all that. Once locked on, the curse would track its prey, curving around obstacles like a guided missile. Erwin's mind raced. In Voldemort's hands, it would be apocalyptic—no more hiding behind stones or friends. The sky itself couldn't block his view. And for Erwin? The possibilities were endless.
A grin spread across his face. "System! Does this only apply to spells?"
[Ponder that yourself!]
The evasion only fueled his excitement. If it worked on all single-target attacks...
Erwin flicked his wrist, and a pistol materialized in his hand—a Muggle equalizer, tucked away in his enchanted pouch for emergencies. He aimed at the far wall of his dorm, squeezed the trigger.
The bullet veered mid-air, arcing impossibly around a chair before slamming into the target with pinpoint accuracy.
Erwin's heart pounded. It worked. Bullets that curved! He laughed, a thrill shooting through him. No more being just a wizard—he could play by Muggle rules too, and win.
The lottery ends. Limited-time gacha pool closes! Preview: A holiday gacha pool opens for Christmas! Accumulate wizarding acclaim—the festive draws are unbeatable value!
Erwin paused, glancing at the calendar in his mind. Halloween was next Thursday; Christmas loomed just beyond. With 5,000 acclaim points left, he could draw now... but why not wait? Stockpile for the holidays, hit the pool with a massive pull. Bigger risks, bigger rewards.
He pulled up his status panel.
[Spell Mastery: Accio (Level 3), Wingardium Leviosa (Level 3), Protego (Level 3), Expelliarmus (Level 3), Sectumsempra (Level 3), Occlumency (Level 3), Piertotum Locomotor (Level 3), Bombarda (Level 1), Glacius (Level 1), Levicorpus (Level 1), Reducto (Level 1), Incarcerous (Level 1), Stupefy (Level 1), Protego Diabolica (Level 1), Incendio (Level 1), Apparition (Level 3), Killing Curse (Level 4), Cruciatus Curse (Level 4).]
[Spell Proficiency: 2900!]
The recent additions were all fresh, hovering at Level 1—unreliable in a pinch. But upgrading them would demand choices. The Hidden Prefect Challenge loomed largest in his mind, Slytherin's true legacy dangling like a tantalizing secret. He couldn't afford half-baked spells there.
Self-practice could build proficiency, but Level 1 casts often fizzled. Better to pump them to Level 2 first: stable enough for consistent success, then grind from there.
Erwin allocated 800 points, bumping Protego Diabolica and Incendio to Level 2. Solid basics—fiery barriers and ignition, perfect for defense and offense.
That left 2,100 points burning a hole in his reserves. He tamped down the urge to max them out now. Practice first; decisions later.
But where? The Room of Requirement—Hogwarts' ultimate hideaway. Eighth floor, opposite the tapestry of the troll beating Barnabas the Barmy. Pace three times, envision your need, and poof: a private training ground.
Erwin grabbed his wand and slipped out, pulse quickening. Time to turn theory into power.