Chapter 198: No Rivals on This Track
In the classroom, at the podium.
Ryan set down his lesson plan and hooked a finger. The wooden chest floating beside him opened, and countless wooden boards flew out, landing precisely in front of each student. "This session is a practical."
"Hooray!"
One of the main reasons the students had accepted Ryan as a teacher so quickly was that his classes were mostly practical.
No teenager wanted to sit quietly in a classroom memorizing books. They were much happier putting their energy into hands-on projects.
This was true for students in Muggle schools and wizarding schools alike.
Ryan traced a large ancient rune in the air. "You all recognize this, right?"
"We recognize it. It stands for 'protection.'"
"We've memorized it so many times in class."
"We've learned both normal writing and magical inscription!"
"This ancient rune for protection is on so many alchemical items, we've seen it countless times."
"I hear you all have your own skills," Ryan said. "Your task for the first half of this class is to carve this ancient rune onto the wooden boards I just distributed. When time is up, I will critique your work one by one.
"The student with the best result will earn the right to make a request of me." Ryan checked the time. "You have one hour. Begin."
Hearing the prize for winning, the students rubbed their hands in anticipation. They all knew how tempting it was to make a request of Ryan.
Previously, someone had asked for an alchemical item with any effect.
That person had received an incredibly powerful alchemical scepter. With a Mana Bead as its core and loaded with a full suite of offensive and defensive spells, once activated with magic, the scepter could automatically cast spells and engage in combat. It was said that even a Niffler wielding it could go toe-to-toe with an average adult wizard.
Under the lure of such a heavy reward, the previously united and helpful student body instantly fractured.
Before, it was "hello, how are you, let me help you after I finish mine." The top students had kept the situation under control.
But now, it was every wizard for themselves.
The top students, determined to win, exchanged cold glances before burying their heads in their work, racking their brains to make their creations the best.
Ryan walked among the students, eager to see what surprises they would bring.
He found that most brought only fright. Ruining the wood was a minor issue; the bigger problem was that they weren't yet adept at inscribing runes infused with magic.
But then there were others... perhaps because they had maxed out their talent points in Dark Magic mastery, they somehow managed to carve the rune for "protection" in a way that reeked of the Dark Arts.
When Ryan picked up one such board and injected magic into it, the wood shattered, releasing a burst of magic that felt disturbingly like an Unforgivable Curse, filled with extreme malice and intent to harm...
"To be honest, your talents are wasted here. Defense Against the Dark Arts is useless for you; you should be taking Advanced Dark Arts Research. If you went to Durmstrang, you'd be a shining star."
Intending to encourage the child, Ryan kindly pointed out the path to the underworld. He actually had advanced course recommendations, too—like Azkaban or the Hogwarts Headmaster's office.
Whether the child accepted the suggestion, he couldn't be sure. He only knew that after his praise, the child proudly lowered his head, burying it deep under the desk—probably to hide the joy of being praised by the professor...
It's a pity Seamus Finnigan isn't here. Those two would have a lot in common... Amidst the continuous crack-pop of exploding wooden boards, Ryan inspected all the works.
Then he returned to the podium to wait for the time to run out.
"Time's up. Stop what you're doing." He checked his watch. "Now, students who still have a wooden board in their hands, bring them up one by one."
The reason he emphasized "students who still have a wooden board" was simple: more than sixty percent of the students had caused their boards to shatter due to errors during carving. Others, after succeeding, had tried to test them, only for the boards to explode due to faulty magical circuits.
Those remaining either had confidence in their work and had verified it, or had carved such a mess they hadn't bothered testing it.
"Usable."
"Average."
"Not great."
"It had to be you."
His concise comments didn't bother the students who knew him well. Getting an "average" or "usable" from Ryan was equivalent to a "very good" or "excellent" from the other Beauxbatons alchemy professor.
"You said you'd grant me a request?" Fleur handed over her board, her eyes smiling, her blue gaze like spring water.
"Assuming you win." Ryan inspected it and found that Fleur's protection board was indeed one of the best in terms of quality.
Specifically, if sold to a Muggle, this board would constitute a breach of the Statute of Secrecy—a "criminal-grade" work.
It was countless times better than the previous "law-abiding-grade" trash.
"Do you think I'll win?"
"What I think is irrelevant. Facts don't change based on my attitude."
Ryan placed Fleur's work in the pile of potential winners, planning to choose one from among them.
He looked up. "Are your eyes bothering you? Why do you keep blinking?"
Fleur: !!!
"I'm fine!" She stormed off the stage in a huff. At the same time, she felt reassured. With a brain like Ryan's, any normal person who liked him would go crazy after talking to him for two minutes. There were absolutely no rivals on this track!
Ryan didn't quite understand what had happened. He felt a sense of déjà vu: This tone, this expression, this neurotic shift... it feels just like Penelope...
Penelope left Professor Flitwick's office, the words he had just spoken echoing in her mind.
"Different people have different forms of fulfillment. You don't have to demand perfection, but you can be complete."
"If you have any issues in the future, come directly to me. I'm entrusting this work to you because you need your own career. Because you are resilient and wise; almost no one your age is as indomitable as you..."
Indomitable... truly a forced indomitability...
Penelope had sought out Professor Flitwick to improve herself. She was not a trophy; she was a Ravenclaw. She wanted to write her own strokes on Ryan's future path.
She believed that perhaps Ryan's mind wasn't quite normal, and he was indifferent to romance.
But everyone needed companionship. Everyone was lonely.
A fellow traveler, a like-minded friend—in many stories, this person's weight was far greater than that of the protagonist's wife.
"You are mine."
She headed for Hagrid's hut, intending to ask him to take her into the Forbidden Forest. She needed a large enough open space.
~~~
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