Battle with Malvolio

When Tewell returned to Diagon Alley, the room was in chaos as expected, turned upside down by Malvolio.

He stood nonchalantly in the center of the room, his back to Tewell, arms outstretched, surrounded by swirling magic that seemed tangible.

"I was helping you adjust to your new body, not redecorating the room,"

Tewell said, irritated, as he waved his wand, restoring the tables, chairs, and bookshelves to their original positions.

Though these items were not valuable and the place was only a temporary residence, it was still unbearable in such a mess.

"Hmm?"

Tewell was surprised to find that one chair couldn't be restored; its broken section was completely charred black, emitting wisps of black smoke.

"How long was I gone that you're already using this level of dark magic?"

Malvolio finally turned around, his face full of pride, slightly bowing in impeccable courtesy.

"Mr. Fawley, the dark magic I can use goes far beyond this."

Tewell pondered his words for a moment and stopped waving his wand.

"So, you're quite daring?"

"You can try me,"

Malvolio urged eagerly, his body pulsating with magical energy.

He narrowed his eyes slightly, avoiding showing too much fierceness, his crimson tongue flicking like a snake at the corner of his lips.

Truly a Dark Lord, even under heavy restrictions, couldn't suppress a hint of arrogance.

Just barely adjusting to his new body for less than two hours, and already daring to provoke him.

If he couldn't control it, he'd probably have to deal with incompetence in the future.

Considering this, Tewell withdrew his wand into his robe, signaling fairness.

"If that's the case, let me see how strong the resurrected Dark Lord really is."

 He returned the same standard courtesy.

After the courtesy, neither of them immediately attacked, but observed each other.

Until a faint cat's meow sounded outside the window.

"Splinch!"

Malvolio's first move was an unforgiving curse.

Due to the existence of the contract, he couldn't use killing curses.

But that didn't mean he couldn't use Splinch. He thought smugly.

But with a wave of Tewell's hand, a faint barrier appeared in front of him, rippling, unaffected by the Splinch curse.

Then, with a flick of his hand, three red lights with different trajectories flew towards his opponent.

Not only that, but the chair that couldn't be repaired just now also turned into several ferocious wolves, pouncing.

But before they could reach, they were each swallowed by a python that emerged from the floor, using half of its body to block the three curses.

The remaining half turned around, only to be crushed by Tewell's next attack.

"Bang!"

After the smoke cleared, Malvolio disappeared along with the python!

Tewell immediately cast a powerful Ironclad Charm, and a second later, fiery red flames climbed up the golden film.

"You're quite vicious, using the Flame of Wrath," he remarked.

As soon as he finished speaking, the red flames were engulfed by even more vigorous blue-purple flames, and simultaneously, with a "boom," a ring of fire surrounded Tewell.

The ring of fire seemed to come alive, constantly extending fiery tendrils, striking at every place where Malvolio's phantom appeared.

"Boom!"

The temperature of the flame hands was not high, and the force was not great.

Striking the wooden tables and chairs only left behind black scorched marks."

But the touch from his soul told Malvolio that even a slightest touch, even a finger, would severely damage his soul!

"Hey hey, who's tougher here!"

The ring of flames expanded, more tentacles stretched out, and now he had nowhere to stand!

Appearing in the last corner of the room untouched by the flames, he waved his hands repeatedly and shouted loudly:

"Stop it, stop it, you're going too far!"

...

Mr. Borgin, who had already fallen asleep, propped up his head with his hand, helplessly listening to the "crackling" sounds coming from next door, along with occasional vibrations.

"Bang." The dust from the ceiling fell, landing right on his head.

"Creak." A sound came, and suddenly he had a foreboding feeling.

"Crack—boom!"

The bed beneath him collapsed!

Mr. Borgin, furious, quickly grabbed the wand from the bedside table and waved it—

The bed was repaired.

At least there were no more disturbances, he comforted himself inwardly.

Finally, he could have a good night's sleep, and because there were no more soul tremors.

So, in order to enjoy the rare tranquility, he stayed in bed a little longer.

That's why Mr. Borgin woke up a bit later than usual the next day.

When he opened the shop, there was already an impatient customer outside.

"Um, I'm sorry, we're opening a bit late today," he said, opening the door and bending down, "please come in, sir."

But he looked at the person's face.

Why does it seem familiar?

Mr. Borgin pondered for a while, but couldn't remember where he had seen such a person.

However, like the last time he saw Mr. Percyval, this customer was also unabashed, even more arrogant.

With a hint of crimson in his eyes, Malvolio scanned the merchandise in the shop disdainfully.

"May I ask what you need, sir?"

Facing the respectful Bok, he remained arrogantly, "Crystals, I need all those crystals, and the techniques to make them."

Bok lowered his head, his unseen face changing.

"I don't understand what you're saying, I have many crystals here—"

"I'm talking about the crystals that can protect the soul!" Malvolio rudely interrupted him, "I know you have many, and I know how to make them, hand them over!"

"Or I'll tear your soul out, grind out all your secrets bit by bit," he lowered his head, threatening in Bok's ear.

He now belonged to a combination of soul and vitality.

If someone could cut open his body, they would find it empty, without the usual human organs.

So his resistance to magic would be very weak, basically any magic could affect his soul.

As someone pursuing strength, although few could attack him with magic, he wouldn't allow such a weakness to appear on him.

To compensate, he urgently needed the protective power of crystals.

Suddenly, a hand slapped on his shoulder.

"Calm down, Malvolio," Tewel helplessly restrained his actions, "Mr. Bok hasn't said he disagrees."

Early on, he hadn't seen his figure, Tewel realized something was wrong, luckily Bok opened the door late, otherwise the newly bought house wouldn't be able to continue staying.

"Mr. Percyval," Borgin swallowed his saliva, "there really are no more crystals, the production difficulty is too high, what you took away is the last one."

Tewel didn't speak, but searched in his pocket.

"Wait," Bok quickly held Tewel's hand, smiled wryly, "production takes time, one month, after one month I'll give you one for free."

"How about this, after a month, I'll return the house to you, as for the money for buying the house, let it be the money for buying the crystals, but I want to get at least one within a week, you won't cheat me, right?"

Tewel withdrew his hand, friendly patting Bok's shoulder.

This kind of crystal requires high skills, and alchemists need to deeply study the soul, currently only Bok can produce it.

So spending a little more money doesn't matter.

Just like making friends with Devis and Bance, befriending useful people always brings him some help.

Borgin's eyes lit up, the money from the house is not small, even if it's exchanged for five crystals, he still profits.

"How could I cheat you, by then you'll definitely get a crystal, and at the end of the month, there will be an extra three crystals!"

Satisfied, Tewel nodded, pulling Malvolio, who had a nonchalant expression, away.

Before leaving, he glared fiercely at Borgin, with his hands behind his back, he opened five fingers.