Martha hurried back to school in a complete panic, her hair disheveled and eyes wild with academic desperation. The comfortable life at the manor had made her almost forget she still had a thesis to complete.
Coincidentally, her research project was about blood-related topics. She had stayed awake for three straight days working on her thesis about blood-replenishing potions, and her hair was practically falling out from stress.
This made the other three guys look at her with genuine fear, while their admiration for Gerald went up another level. So Gerald had been surviving in such an environment all this time.
Administrator Gerald could only maintain a polite smile about this situation. After all, not everyone was pursuing graduate studies.
Don't let Martha's homebody image in apartments and other places fool you completely. She was actually pursuing a doctoral degree. Such a person would deliberately approach influential figures with the intention of losing her virginity just to avoid being laughed at by her peers.
John could only comment on this: intelligence doesn't equal emotional intelligence. After all, university students carrying pure foolishness was quite common.
Bertram raised his left hand with obvious pride. On his metallic left arm, cool dark gold patterns flickered with electric arcs like living lightning. He clenched his fist and swung it forward with practiced precision.
The training target flew toward him uncontrollably, causing double damage from both impact and electrical discharge. The arm granted him the ability to create powerful magnetic effects.
This hand wasn't just stylish looking. The medieval knight armor-like arm swung around with mechanical precision. Some metallic fragments attached to it shot out like projectiles, striking distant targets with deadly accuracy.
Edward watched enviously from the sidelines, then looked at Smedley, who had flown into the sky with arms crossed, controlling a person-sized stone that smashed down heavily with devastating force.
His companions' superpowers all had cool special effects that looked impressive, but he only had... special effects. Edward hung his head dejectedly, feeling completely inadequate.
He suddenly felt that illusions really weren't impressive at all compared to flight and magnetism.
"Your thinking is dangerous, Edward."
Hearing this familiar voice, Edward looked up with sudden delight. "Principal!"
John stood beside him with hands clasped behind his back, saying flatly, "Your ability is also very powerful, but you're using it completely wrong."
"But, Principal, I..." Edward once again looked enviously at his friends training with obvious supernatural abilities, "My ability can't make me fly or cause much physical damage."
For Edward, who still had a teenager's mindset, being cool enough was synonymous with being truly powerful.
John raised an eyebrow knowingly, signaling Edward to follow him. Edward didn't understand the purpose but hesitated only briefly before leaving his companions and following obediently.
The two kept walking forward across the training grounds. After just a few hundred meters, Edward began to feel tired and winded. He found this strange and thought he just hadn't eaten well at lunch.
Standing on what appeared to be an empty lawn, John asked casually, "What do you see?"
Edward hesitantly answered, "Grass?"
"Take a step forward." John didn't give the answer directly; he just let Edward experience it himself.
Edward took a cautious step, scratched his head in confusion, and asked, "Still grass?"
"Look more carefully." John's voice seemed to echo strangely in Edward's ears, "Seriously, concentrate completely."
Hearing this instruction, Edward stared ahead with intense focus. He was very serious now, concentrating with all his mental energy.
Gradually, he felt a strong wind buffeting his face. Wind? But there hadn't been any wind moments before.
The grass in front of him gradually began to disappear like a fading mirage, replaced by the terrifying realization that he was standing on a rooftop terrace. If he took another step forward, he would plummet from the high building to his death.
Cold sweat immediately broke out across his back in waves of panic.
Smedley's terrified scream pierced the air. "What are you doing up there, Edward!"
Smedley flew upward toward him with desperate urgency. Edward's legs went completely weak as he cried out and collapsed onto the rooftop surface.
"I remember I was clearly down below just a moment ago."
The overwhelming fear of nearly falling to his death lingered intensely in his mind as he looked up at John with newfound respect and terror.
John spoke calmly: "See? This is true illusion at work, preventing you from knowing your actual location."
"Time for your first real lesson, Edward." His composed voice stood in stark contrast to Smedley's panicked cries.
"Build a mental fortress. Don't leave your mind so defenseless."
"Edward, are you okay?" Smedley landed on the rooftop with a rush of wind, hugging Edward tightly with tears in her voice.
"You really scared me to death. You ignored all of Bertram's calls completely."
Edward was squeezed tightly in her embrace. Facing the youngest member, Smedley, he comforted her gently, "It's okay, I was with the Principal the whole time."
"Principal?" Smedley blinked and looked around confusedly at the empty rooftop.
"I don't see the Principal anywhere."
"Stop joking around," Edward said with growing irritation, "The Principal is right there."
After saying this, he realized what was happening and stared blankly at John's figure.
John smiled mysteriously, and his body gradually began to disappear like morning mist. That had also been an elaborate illusion.
Edward was completely stunned. He hadn't expected illusions could be used this way, so realistically and convincingly. The Principal had never actually appeared from beginning to end. He had been guided to the rooftop entirely by masterful illusions.
If this hadn't been a carefully planned lesson, he couldn't even imagine what his fate would have been. Sweat dampened his hair, but his eyes were full of genuine excitement.
"So this is true illusion mastery. I really am the most powerful."
Edward laughed with newfound confidence and pride. This made Smedley worry seriously if he had been traumatized by the experience. She heard electroshock therapy could help with trauma. Maybe Bertram should try using his powers?
John hadn't actually left his laboratory door, but this didn't prevent him from casually guiding the confused teenager through sophisticated illusions. His eyes gradually changed from vertical pupils back to normal as a sleek black owl flew gracefully into the laboratory through the fireplace.
It was Riddle returning from his delivery mission.
Riddle was already completely accustomed to this routine. After landing elegantly and glancing at the intensely burning furnace, he came before John with professional efficiency.
John casually took the letter from Riddle's beak. The faint fleur-de-lis fragrance, the moon-white envelope, and the red wax seal formed a striking visual contrast.
The familiar family crest made John smile with genuine warmth. "Delacour."
This was an ancient family with a remarkably long history in France. The Delacour bloodline mostly consisted of handsome men and beautiful women. After combining with Veela blood in recent generations, they had beauty that was legendary throughout the magical world.
Most importantly, this family contained one of John's oldest and dearest friends.
"Fleur."
After receiving Cedric's letter last time, John had learned that his former friends had begun to discover his whereabouts and activities.
Miss Fleur Delacour, known throughout France as the French Fleur-de-lis, was now a leading figure in French magical society. She was also among the few ancient families maintaining active contact with Muggle society.
Opening the envelope carefully, the gorgeous handwriting was as flamboyant as beauty itself.
"Dear John:
Cedric came to France with his lovely wife. If I hadn't heard the news directly from his mouth, I would hardly believe you had finally descended from that impossibly high tower.
I thought our friendship was strong enough for you to eagerly tell us immediately after coming down, but it seems you had some urgent things you had to handle first.
French nobles constantly talk about wizards appearing in Britain, and I understand that's the noble cause you're persisting in pursuing. As your most loyal friend, I will unconditionally help you accomplish all of this.
Cedric hasn't told Draco yet. He's also become quite mischievous, hoping to see that ferret boy's complete embarrassment.
Letters cannot properly express my anticipation and excitement for your return. When we meet next, I will plant a celebratory kiss on your cheek.
Well, I know you want to know more important things. Among the ancient nobles, the increased demand for magical potions might be a golden opportunity for them to become devoted followers of magic.
"My God, this paper is completely full. I need to get another sheet."
"When you meet the nobleman from Sokovia, you'll be quite intrigued. He's the most intelligent Muggle I've ever come across, speaking strictly of Muggles, naturally."
Finally, if you have any conscience at all, have Riddle send me a reply letter. Please don't send Basil. My poor blue fox is absolutely terrified of that aggressive bird.
Your devoted friend, Fleur Delacour."
The letter was quite long, and John read every single word with careful attention. He smiled helplessly at one particular part. "Basil's habit of beating up other owls has completely spread throughout the entire magical world."
As the strongest fighter among all owls, Basil always had an overwhelming desire to dominate other birds. The owls in the Wizard City had been systematically beaten into well-trained postal service helpers under its merciless white wings.
John gently rubbed Riddle's head, and Riddle comfortably closed his eyes in contentment.
"The nobles' increased demand for potions is completely expected," John said thoughtfully. "In the medical industry, even current advanced technology can't match potions brewed properly in cauldrons."
He wrote a detailed reply letter and gave it to Riddle for delivery. After all, she had specifically requested Riddle to deliver it personally. Riddle was also the only owl that Basil wouldn't immediately attack on sight.
The Avengers assembled once again for their most dangerous mission yet. This time their target was directly at Sokovia, where the Mind Scepter was currently located.
Just as they were preparing to take action across the globe, in a Sokovian family home, the man of the house was carefully selecting a special gift for his beloved wife.
In war-torn Sokovia, this hard-won peace had become a precious treasure everyone cherished deeply. The man looked around at the absence of bombs and soldiers carrying deadly weapons, his face glowing with genuinely happy smiles.
This country should become so much better than it had been. He silently swore in his heart to use his very life to protect this fragile peace and protect his precious family.