In his past life, many people dismissed Voldemort as a fool. And sure, Dudley had dealt with his remnant soul and the first two Horcruxes with relative ease. But make no mistake—Voldemort's danger level was unmatched in the wizarding world (even if his vision was a bit narrow).
Dudley had faced Voldemort when he was possessing Quirrell, and the Dark Lord was anything but weak. At his peak, he truly lived up to the title of Dark Lord. During his reign of terror, no one in the wizarding world could openly defy him. Most fled at the mere mention of his name. Even the greatest white wizard, Dumbledore, had to tread carefully.
If Dumbledore were truly Voldemort's nemesis, as some claimed, he would've taken him down long ago. But Dudley wasn't Dumbledore. He didn't put his faith in vague prophecies. He trusted in himself.
Dudley didn't linger with the Squibs. He soon returned to Hogwarts, where Dumbledore had yet to return.
For the next while, Dudley paused his other studies to focus solely on Ripple Qigong. He had a feeling a breakthrough was coming.
Dudley was hitting a growth spurt, his physical stats surging rapidly. This was why his Ripple Qigong was progressing so quickly.
At dawn, with the sky just beginning to lighten, five of the six members of the Discipline Group were already out for their usual physical training. Every now and then, they'd glance toward a particular spot.
"D's training is getting crazier," Draco muttered during their jog.
"He's been at it since midnight, hasn't he?" Ron added.
"If I had to wear that thing, I'd probably die," Draco said.
Ron smirked. "No 'probably' about it—you would die."
"Says the guy who'd keel over just as fast. Wanna try it later?" Draco shot back.
Normally, Ron would've fired back without hesitation, but this time he stayed quiet. Because, honestly, he knew he'd die.
"Harry, you sure D's okay?" Neville asked quietly. Even with his sturdy build, he couldn't imagine surviving that training.
"D never does anything he's not sure of," Harry replied confidently. In his mind, there was nothing Dudley couldn't do.
Hermione, leading the group, said nothing, but her occasional glances betrayed her concern.
The focus of their attention, Dudley, was currently wearing a massive iron mask. He was inching his way up a giant iron pole, slick with oil, making it impossibly slippery. Normal people couldn't even hold onto it, let alone climb it.
The iron mask wasn't just heavy and ugly—it was designed to train his breathing. Ripple Qigong hinged on proper breathing techniques, known as the Ripple Breathing Method. Physical conditioning was secondary. Without the correct breathing, you'd suffocate.
The oiled pole was another tool for Ripple Qigong, this time training its application. Breathing and application—both were essential. This was the next stage after mastering Ripple Qigong on water.
Dudley never skipped training, not for a single day. He knew his body was better suited for close combat than spellcasting. He'd practiced various martial arts—Bajiquan, Taizu Changquan, Hung Gar, Wing Chun, and even Volleyball Fist. But his focus was on Ripple Qigong.
Huff, huff.
As Dudley climbed the pole, his breathing grew heavier with each slip. The iron mask didn't just add weight—it made breathing itself a struggle. Climbing the slick pole was exhausting.
Sweat poured off him, soaking his clothes. But his stamina and endurance were far beyond "normal." Each slip only fueled his determination.
The higher he climbed, the fiercer he became.
His hands, sparking with golden ripples, pressed lightly against the oiled pole. With a slight flex of his arm, he propelled himself upward. Then the other hand followed, gripping like suction cups.
He climbed toward the pole's top.
At its highest level, Ripple Qigong could achieve feats like "striking a cow through a mountain"—destroying the ground beneath someone without harming them. Dudley was doing something similar, though "climbing an oiled pole" was even trickier.
Though he was only at Level 2, that was already an impressive mastery. Most who reached the edge of Level 2 were considered Ripple Qigong masters.
Hand over hand, he climbed the slippery pole.
By the time Harry and the others were finishing their training, Dudley reached the top.
"Success," he said, removing the mask and wiping his face, flinging away a handful of sweat.
But he wasn't satisfied. Standing atop the pole, he took a few deep breaths through the mask, then slid back down to start again.
One success didn't guarantee the next. Dudley aimed to climb it perfectly every time.
The mask corrected his breathing errors, while the pole trained both his stamina and Ripple application. As his physical abilities grew, so did his mastery of Ripple Qigong, reaching new heights.
After a week of practice, he could climb the pole flawlessly every time. That same day, his Ripple Qigong advanced from Level 2 to Level 3.
His next training goal was already set: single-finger handstands.
Single-finger handstands weren't too difficult—Dudley had managed them before arriving at Hogwarts. But this wasn't an ordinary handstand. It wasn't on the ground—it was on the tip of a blade.
The difficulty was astronomical.
Rather than using an actual blade, Dudley chose a similar target: the pointed tip of Hogwarts' castle roof. The danger was just as high, if not higher. A fall from that height wouldn't just injure him—it could flatten any passing student into a pancake.
So he didn't start with handstands. First, he practiced standing on the roof's tip with his toes, acclimating to the balance before attempting the single-finger handstand.