HP: Spirit Talker

Again, they exchanged simple spells, only this time, the professor took his time, obviously waiting for the effects of the potions. Of course, there would be side effects, but it was better than having to put his head down quickly.

The Japanese, on the other hand, didn't seem to have any problems with the energy expenditure, which of course raised questions and interest. Only the director hid his gnashing teeth behind his beard: he had already discovered the destroyed space blocker, the earrings had belonged to him since the forties, and the duel itself did not suit him at all.

Meanwhile, Hoshino closed the distance a bit more, breaking the potionist's concentration with several Bombarda, Expulso, and Reductor. The last spell tore through one of the few remaining shields, and only an instinctive display of "Protego" saved another shield that the potionist had not yet had time to recharge after the overload. Several unexpectedly quick and agile jumps by the potionist caused many onlookers to gasp.

The man had time to unleash his explosive spells, but only dirt and shrapnel reached Hoshino, barely unleashing the talismans circling around him. When the distance between the duelists was reduced to two dozen meters, both of them unleashed identical red beams.

Loud rumbling, crackling, and bright flashes of lightning as they attempted to shatter their opponent's magic caused them to squint and cover their eyes with their palms. Suddenly, the room was torn apart by an emerald flash and a loud explosion.

The Japanese's figure was carried several meters away, and for a few more meters he staggered on the shredded ground. The sorcerer had his hands on his knees, breathing heavily, and a second wand in his left hand.

The duel seemed to be over. The eldest of the Delacour sisters staggered and lost consciousness for a moment, while the youngest's legs gave out and she simply sank to the cold ground.

The rest of the crowd was abuzz — important gentlemen and ladies, as well as other unwelcome guests, discussed the outcome and the question of betting. No one but their companions paid any attention to the quietly crying girls. Only the Chinese remained silent, which did not escape the attention of the headmaster of the School of Magic and Wizardry. He was about to call the potionist's attention to it when the seemingly defeated boy stirred.

The people began to make even louder noise, attracting the attention of the potion master, who couldn't catch his breath and was in no hurry to make more potions. He turned his head to see Hoshino staggering heavily. The boy looked bad: a battered face, a large abrasion on his cheek, tattered clothes, and blood running down his left arm.

The Japanese pulled a pack of seals out of thin air and applied a few to his left side first, tying them right over his clothes. It was difficult to see the wound against the background of black clothing and not the best lighting, but at that moment, a long-haired Chinese woman with a firm expression turned her head slightly towards her subordinates and said something in her native language.

Meanwhile, Sora stuck a few more seals on his torn surtoute to show off his injuries. At that moment, Fleur wanted to give an order when she saw the numerous bloodstained papers on the boy's body, but she couldn't — her throat was tight from the spasms of young Veila's overwhelming emotions. Gabrielle was happy about the fact of the boy's life, and she didn't know why Baroness de Montmirail's group had come, so she didn't think to give orders.

A wave of her free hand and white birds flew at the Potions Master, drawing blue lines in the air. The grumpy teacher barely had time to dodge another explosion and was forced to take a new batch of potions. His pride and joy, his custom-made wizard's robes, had long since been torn and burned, reduced in places to smoldering tatters.