Chapter 183: Blade of the Ship-Slicing Spear

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When Harry heard the snap of the documents closing, Grindelwald glanced over at him.

"Finished reading?"

"I can't help but feel a strange sense of déjà vu," Harry muttered, contemplating. The artifact that had caused such a stir in North America, the Lance of Longinus, seemed... slightly off.

"That's the right feeling to have," Grindelwald replied, setting down the tools in his hands. In front of him was a cradle holding a doll with a comically twisted expression, as if it had endured unspeakable torment. Over the past hour, little Tom had experienced sensations he'd never known before—a body utterly drained, a soul pulled to its limits, teetering on the edge of dissolution yet unable to escape. Grindelwald had subjected him to a peculiar, almost gentle interrogation.

"The descriptions of the Lance of Longinus—don't they remind you of the Elder Wand?"

Prompted by Grindelwald's remark, Harry blinked in realization and let out an "Oh!" of sudden understanding. It all made sense now.

"Now that you mention it, they really do." Harry scratched his head sheepishly. "A powerful magical medium that gives the user an illusion of invincibility. But ultimately, such strength is like a castle in the sky—it's an illusion. True power still lies within the wizard, and external tools have their limits."

"That reasoning is correct," Grindelwald nodded. "But let's be honest—who would refuse a stronger weapon? A wand can accompany a wizard for a lifetime, yet no rule says a wizard can only own one wand in their lifetime."

"You sound like someone who likes to discard the old for the new, Professor Grindelwald."

"Who's to say I'm not?" Grindelwald shrugged, spreading his hands. "After all, new toys are always more exciting."

Like a magician performing a trick, he reached into the air and plucked out a stick roughly the length of an arm and as thick as a thumb. It was a spiraled wooden rod, one end blunt and the other sharp, resembling a primitive wooden spear polished by stone tools.

"The Lance of Longinus. Want to give it a try?"

With a casual toss, Grindelwald lobbed it into Harry's arms.

"???"

Harry's eyes widened in disbelief, his face practically shouting a meme-worthy "What the heck?!" He hadn't expected that this artifact, which had caused such chaos in North America, was already in Grindelwald's possession.

"Seriously? You're giving this to me, Professor?" Harry's eyes lit up with excitement, and an honest, almost naïve smile spread across his face.

"In your dreams. It's genuine, but I still have use for it. Besides, it's not nearly as practical as the Elder Wand without some modifications."

Grindelwald rolled his eyes and pulled a chair to sit opposite Harry.

"Although the material is the same, the Elder Wand is a finished product, refined through craftsmanship. The original owner of this stick, however, treated it merely as a trophy, with no intention of actually using it."

"Why don't you try casting a spell with it?"

With a wave of Grindelwald's hand, the floor in front of them transformed into a sealed, standard spell-testing arena. A row of humanoid targets stood 10 meters away, neatly aligned in a straight line.

Holding the short spear, Harry felt a mix of excitement and unease. He had long grown accustomed to the concept of firearm-like wands, so this rod-like wand gave him a strange sense of awkwardness. By traditional standards, it seemed appropriate for a wizard to wave a stick...

But as he glanced at the "proper" wand in his hand, Harry's expression grew even more peculiar. Without hesitation, he drew his ebony wand, aimed it without looking, and pulled the trigger.

"Sectumsempra!" 

An invisible blade extended forward, slicing off a fingernail-sized fragment from the specialized test target. The target, designed to be extraordinarily durable, barely flinched, but the power behind the spell was undeniable. Harry raised an eyebrow slightly.

"This thing's magic amplification effect... is it really that strong?"

Harry gave the short spear in his hand a casual swing. If Grindelwald had specifically prepared such durable targets, then the artifact in his grasp must truly possess some absurd capabilities.

After all, it shared the same origins as the Elder Wand, which had been repeatedly proven to be the most powerful magical amplifier. Anyone who lost while wielding it had only their own lack of skill to blame—the Elder Wand itself was never the weak link.

"You'll only know if you try," Grindelwald said, conjuring a steaming cup of coffee seemingly out of nowhere. He sipped it with great satisfaction, the heat visibly rising from the cup. Where exactly was he brewing coffee when there wasn't even a kitchen around?

"Alright, I'm curious to see just how ridiculous this thing is," Harry admitted, gripping the thicker end of the wooden spear and leveling its sharp tip at the targets lined up in a neat row.

"Sectumsempra!" he shouted.

But nothing happened. No spell shot forward, and the targets remained entirely unscathed.

"Whoa! Whoa! Whoa!"

After a brief moment of confusion, Harry erupted in excitement, practically shouting in amazement.

"Ship-Slicing Blade! This thing is insane!"

As someone capable of directly seeing magical energy, Harry had witnessed something remarkable. The moment he cast Sectumsempra, the top third of the spear—the spearhead—suddenly extended a magical blade nearly five feet long. The invisible edge mirrored the characteristics of Sectumsempra, manifesting as a razor-sharp, unseen weapon.

Eagerly stepping forward, Harry swung the spear casually as he approached the targets. Like a hot knife through butter, the specially-designed target was sliced cleanly in half.

"Professor Grindelwald, are you sure this thing wasn't custom-made for me?" Harry dispersed the spell and looked at Grindelwald with a bright, eager gaze.

Still sipping his coffee, Grindelwald squinted at Harry as though he were observing a particularly dim-witted caveman.

"Is it possible—just possible—that the Lance of Longinus was meant to be thrown?" Grindelwald put his coffee down and continued dryly, "Don't you think its length and balance feel more like a javelin than a melee weapon?"

"Huh?" Dumbfounded, Harry inspected the spear anew, internally screaming a string of expletives. "Maybe… probably… this thing could be better as a close-range weapon?"

"For example, cutting through hordes of enemies in a crowd?" Harry ventured.

"And then getting turned into a pincushion by a barrage of spells?" Grindelwald countered without mercy, his expression growing more disdainful. He muttered under his breath, "How did I not realize this thing could lower someone's intelligence? No wonder people were fighting over it like rabid dogs... and I even fooled them with a fake one."

"That's because they're incompetent!" Harry puffed out his chest, growing indignant. "Getting overwhelmed by spells is for ordinary wizards! What does that have to do with me, a Sovereign Awakened?"

Clearly energized now, Harry beamed, showing off his pearly whites. "If I had mastered Apparition, I'd be demonstrating my invincible, anti-Disapparation techniques all over the place by now."

Grindelwald smirked and, seeing Harry's growing affection for the spear, offered another challenge. "Why don't you try a Blasting Curse next?"

Sliding his chair a little further back, Grindelwald warned, "Just don't overdo it. If it explodes beyond repair, I'll have to bury the remains and call it fertilizer."

Harry's lips twitched slightly at the comment. "Maybe I should stick to throwing it instead."

Even with his best effort to limit the power output, the Blasting Curse Harry cast sent his head spinning. Using such a spell in an enclosed space was the definition of a bad idea. Unfortunately, his excitement had clouded his judgment. The Lance of Longinus, when thrown, transformed into something akin to a supercharged mini-missile, detonating with a deafening explosion.

Using only one-tenth of the standard magical energy for the spell, the resulting effect still made the Blasting Curse more powerful than its standard counterpart by a slight margin.

"Over 45 times magical amplification?" Harry muttered, his lips twitching slightly. According to Professor Flitwick, even the most potent wand in the form of the M500 revolver only achieved an amplification of about 5-6 times in its ultimate form. And for those wands designed for maximum power, like the sniper rifle models, the amplification ceiling was around 20-25 times, a limit most wizards couldn't reach anyway.

"Before it undergoes even basic processing, the exact amplification factor is 47.9 times," Grindelwald explained. "That's less than half of the Elder Wand's potential. Neither Albus nor I could ever fully harness the Elder Wand's capabilities—it's simply too powerful."

"You've probably heard from Albus already," Grindelwald continued, "but even the Elder Wand remains in a relatively crude state. The wizards who originally obtained these materials didn't seem to care much about their potential."

"You mean the Awakened didn't care about their effects?" Harry began to piece things together, though he vividly recalled seeing an Awakened wizard on Paradise Island joyfully flaunting an enchanted bow. That same wizard had even left behind a recorded image, celebrating their masterpiece for future generations to admire.

"How would I know? I'm not one of those Awakened wizards," Grindelwald said dismissively, casually summoning the Lance of Longinus back into his hand. Without a second thought, he stashed it away in some unknown extradimensional space.

"When I have time, I plan to study this thing. Let's see what it can be turned into. It'll certainly be better than watching you swing it around like a caveman. Honestly, in this day and age, who still thinks melee combat is a good idea? I'd like to crack open your skull and see if it's filled with muscle too."

"Ah, sure, sure," Harry replied, nodding along halfheartedly. "But didn't I just use my 'little fists' to pummel Voldemort into paralysis last night? A real man needs versatility—capable of both overwhelming force and finesse!"

"Got your license early, did you?" Grindelwald retorted sarcastically before abruptly changing the subject. "Are you going to North America or not? There's another piece left there. If you're interested, I'll arrange your trip."

"Made from the same material as the Invisibility Cloak?"

"Precisely," Grindelwald confirmed. "I've placed people among the first group exploring the ruins, but it seems the site might've been opened before. Someone took items from inside. The Elder Wand, the Invisibility Cloak, and the Resurrection Stone—all three Deathly Hallows correspond to these divine materials. Yet in the ruins, only the ones tied to the Wand and Cloak remain. The third display stand has been empty for a long time."

"The protective enchantments in the ruins are still largely intact. The first explorers cleared a path at the cost of their lives. If you plan to go, be careful not to join them in the afterlife."

"You're really okay with sending me there? I'm only twelve, just a little kid," Harry said mockingly, adopting a fake tone of innocence that made Grindelwald visibly cringe.

"Get lost, you little brat! You're disgusting me. What kind of trash are those third-rate professors teaching you? If you're tired of Hogwarts, just transfer already. That lousy school only ruins students."

"You can insult me, but the professors are people I respect. They've taught me a lot," Harry defended, albeit with a smirk.

"Experience-based teaching is nothing but mediocrity," Grindelwald snorted. "Hogwarts' current educational model is a disaster waiting to happen. Just wait until those excellent professors leave. You'll see if Hogwarts can keep up with the times then."

"Whatever happens ten years from now has nothing to do with me. Let's not dwell on it," Harry shrugged nonchalantly, then asked, "How are you planning to send me there?"

"Send you?" Grindelwald raised an eyebrow. "You've got legs, don't you? Walk yourself there. Swim across the Atlantic if you have to. All that muscle isn't just for show, is it?"

Grindelwald's sarcasm carried a thinly veiled jab at Harry's physique.

"Fine, fine," Harry muttered, brushing it off.

"I'll set up a crash course for you," Grindelwald added. "Let you see what real magical education looks like. England and Hogwarts are both relics of the past."

Grindelwald gestured toward the spiral staircase ahead. "There's the exit. Climb up yourself. Someone will be waiting for you at the top."

With that, Grindelwald slammed his empty coffee cup onto the table and turned back toward the experiment platform. It seemed there was still much to uncover about the remnants of "Little Tom," a name that carried its own weight of infamy.

Left with no choice, Harry gazed up at the seemingly endless spiral staircase and cursed under his breath. Why couldn't this underground lab—buried who-knows-how-deep—be equipped with an elevator?

With layer upon layer of anti-magic barriers bearing down on him, Harry treated the grueling climb as a warm-up marathon, ascending step by step from the abyss toward the distant light.

(End of Chapter)