The two stood ten feet apart and bowed slightly.
"Begin," Narcissa announced.
Hermes moved almost the instant the word fell, his wand thrusting forward violently. "Rictusempra!"
A jet of silver light shot toward Regulus; using a Tickling Charm to open a duel wasn't exactly vicious, but it was sudden.
Regulus did not move his feet; with a casual wave of his wand, an identical jet of silver light flew from the tip, colliding precisely with Hermes's spell in mid-air and exploding into a shower of flickering sparks.
"Locomotor Mortis!" Hermes followed immediately with a second spell, a blue light speeding close to the ground.
Regulus merely tapped the ground lightly with his wand, erecting an invisible barrier in front of him; the Leg-Locker Curse acted as if it had hit a ramp, deflecting obliquely toward the wall where it dissipated.
"Impedimenta!" Hermes fired a third spell furtively.
"Impedimenta." Regulus cast the same spell; the two identical jinxes collided in the center of the clearing, emitting a dull thudding sound.
But clearly, Regulus's spell was more powerful; not only did it shatter Hermes's spell, but it did not dissipate, continuing instead to hurtle toward Hermes.
Hermes rolled on the ground to barely dodge it, looking somewhat ragged.
Nearby lower-year students widened their eyes, covering their mouths to stifle gasps, while the upper-year students nodded frequently.
Anyone could see that the power of Regulus's spells was shockingly high.
Regulus still did not attack proactively, but simply blocked or deflected Hermes's every assault with composure; a Binding Curse was flicked away, and an Incendio was extinguished by Aguamenti.
Some spells he dodged with only minute movements.
Throughout the entire process, Regulus did not even leave the small patch of ground where he had initially stood.
He used only the most basic defensive and disruptive spells from The Standard Book of Spells, yet each was perfectly timed and executed with effortless ease.
His expression remained unchanged from start to finish, as if he were not fighting at all; his leisurely posture made it look more like a lesson.
As for Hermes, his attacks grew faster and his spells more tricky, displaying a foundation far beyond that of an ordinary first-year; evidently, he had received prior instruction at home.
But his complexion grew increasingly grim, and his breathing became heavy.
He was no fool; he could see that Regulus wasn't using his full strength at all, perhaps he wasn't even trying.
Such effortless handling evoked a sense of humiliation and powerlessness.
"Is hiding all you can do, Black?" Hermes growled, anger and ruthlessness flashing in his eyes.
He ceased his rapid barrage, raised his wand high, and began to chant a spell in a lower, more guttural tone; an ominous dark red light gathered at the tip of his wand, and the surrounding air seemed to grow a few degrees colder.
Several senior students frowned, and Prefect Lucretius took a step forward, seemingly intending to intervene.
Narcissa frowned deeply, her fingers already gripping her wand.
But it was too late.
"Flesh and Bone Sever!" Hermes hissed the final syllables, and a beam of light, dark red bordering on black, radiating an aura of cold and pain, shot violently toward Regulus!
Dark Magic!
Although it was clearly an incomplete version with greatly diminished power, its insidious and vicious nature was unmistakable; a wave of gasps rippled through the common room.
Facing this malice-filled strike, Regulus's eyes, which had remained calm and rippleless, finally showed a subtle change.
As expected, Hermes was skilled in Dark Magic; Regulus could clearly sense that he had used this spell on living people.
Heh, family heritage.
Regulus also ceased using those basic spells.
He pointed his wand forward; there was no gesture, no incantation, the movement was concise to the extreme.
A silver barrier, solid as a crystal wall, instantly appeared before him, complex and orderly ripples flowing across its surface.
The dark red beam smashed into the silver shield.
From the point of impact came a teeth-setting sizzling sound, like metal being corroded.
The dark red light frantically eroded the silver shield but could not penetrate it.
The stalemate lasted about two seconds. Amidst Hermes's pale face and incredulous gaze, the dark red beam lost its momentum and dissipated completely, while the silver barrier remained as solid as ever.
In the very instant the dark red light vanished, Regulus took a proactive step forward, the tip of his wand lighting up with a spark of red.
"Expelliarmus."
A red beam, far more solid and swift than any spell cast by Hermes previously, struck Hermes's chest instantly like lightning tearing through the air.
Bang!
The wand flew high into the air, spinning in an arc, and was caught steadily by Regulus's empty hand.
The battle was over.
This was the dignity Regulus afforded his roommate; otherwise, a simple Jelly-Legs Jinx would have been enough to make Hermes kneel.
From Hermes casting the Dark Magic to Regulus dismantling the attack and completing the disarm, the entire process took less than five seconds, so fast that many had not yet recovered from the shock of seeing Dark Magic.
The common room was deadly silent; everyone was looking at the center of the clearing.
Hermes stood frozen, his right hand still maintaining the posture of holding a wand.
His body trembled slightly, his face was as pale as paper, and his eyes were hollow; he seemed unable to accept that his most secret and relied-upon method had been so easily dismantled.
Regulus walked forward and handed Hermes's wand back to him. His voice remained steady, holding neither the triumph of a victor nor disdain for Dark Magic, only an air of calm:
"A decent attempt, but the spell structure was unstable and the magic supply intermittent. Next time you use it, you had better be thinking of killing me, rather than hesitating."
As the words fell, the air in the common room seemed to freeze instantly.
The word "kill," spoken so calmly by an eleven-year-old boy, sent a chill down everyone's spine.
The senior students' reaction was the most direct; Lucretius Burke's eyebrows rose high, his eyes flashing with undisguised appreciation, perhaps even surprise.
Beside him, several fifth- and sixth-year core pure-blood students exchanged glances and began whispering: "Did you hear that? 'Thinking of killing me'!"
"Merlin! To hear that coming from a first-year..."
"Elegant, powerful, and..." A seventh-year girl from the Carrow family licked her lips, her gaze burning.
"He doesn't make a fuss about Dark Magic like those hypocrites; he knows what it is. This is what a Slytherin should look like!"
"The Black family might truly produce a formidable figure this time," another boy from the Nott family concluded, his tone cautious.
In their view, Regulus viewed Dark Magic objectively, evaluating the user's skill while ignoring its inherently evil nature.
This attitude was, in a sense, more in line with the values of certain ancient pure-blood families than Hermes's half-baked Dark Magic itself.
Alex Rosier's lips moved; he looked at Hermes, whose face was pale and who seemed drained of his soul, and then at the calm Regulus.
He wanted to say something, like "It's just a duel, talking about killing is too much..." or "Hermes used Dark Magic, that's not right..."
But the words hung on his lips, unable to come out.
When Regulus's calm gaze swept over him, he felt all his childish thoughts freeze; he could only lower his head in panic and stare at the tips of his shoes.
Cuthbert Avery was in a different state of mind.
During the conflict in Flying Class, he had thought the gap between himself and Regulus might not be that great, that it was merely a matter of catching up in technique and mindset.
Now he understood; the gap was visible to the naked eye. He clenched his fist, then slowly relaxed it, ultimately just watching the two in the center with a complex expression, doing nothing.
As for Hermes Mulciber himself, his hollow eyes suddenly focused, staring fixedly at Regulus; within them churned humiliation, shock, fear, and a trace of ragged shame.
He had hesitated; he dared not, and indeed could not, unleash the full power of that spell under the eyes of the crowd.
He snatched his wand back, his knuckles turning white from the force of his grip, lowered his head, and quickly retreated into the shadows at the edge of the crowd, locking all his emotions back behind that gloomy mask.
"Ahem." Narcissa coughed lightly, breaking the eerie atmosphere.
She exchanged a glance with Lucretius; both understood that tonight's orientation had achieved its purpose, perhaps even exceeding expectations.
There was no need to continue, nor would there be any further suspense.
Lucretius stepped forward, scanning the remaining first years, his voice back to normal. "So, does anyone wish to challenge Black, or Mulciber?"
His gaze swept slowly across them; Alex kept his head down, and the other few freshmen shook their heads repeatedly, avoiding his eyes.
Even Cuthbert, who might have originally harbored some ambition, now stood silently in place, making no move.
"In that case, the position of First-Year Chief goes to Regulus Black. I hope you all will take this as a goal and strive to improve yourselves."