Chapter 145 New Trump Card

"The Lionheart Curse is done."

Meka Anders smiled.

He held the Gryffindor sword in his hand, looked at the light flowing on the sword, and touched it with his finger.

A chill passed through, and Meka immediately withdrew his hand as if he had been electrocuted.

He looked carefully, and a blood mark appeared silently on his fingertips, and the bleeding continued.

"It is worthy of Gryffindor's sword..."

Meka was surprised.

He just touched the sword spine and did not move the sword edge, but he did not expect it to be so sharp.

It seems that this spell is really as the alchemist said. Although he failed to reproduce a new sword, all his research made the sword user more handy to use the Gryffindor sword.

At this moment, Meka tightened his hand holding the sword, and his five fingers wrapped around the hilt. The strength of his wrist seemed to be a circle bigger.

He waved it casually, and the heaviness before was gone forever.

Even though he was young and not fully developed, he felt very comfortable holding this pure silver sword in his hand, as light as holding a pen.

This was because the Lion Heart Mantra stimulated the energy that should have been in the sword, benefiting the sword wearer and triggering the effect of "bodybuilding".

So far, the two parts of the Lion Heart Mantra have been learned, and the whole spell has been thoroughly mastered.

"The head of the basilisk is a weakness. If you want to kill it, you should stick the sword into it..."

Meka imagined that there was a basilisk in front of him and tried his sword.

After a while of proficiency, he put the sword away.

At this moment, there was a buzzing sound in his mind, and it seemed that there was a flash of light.

The face of the researcher of the Lion Heart Mantra appeared in his mind, and he immediately understood that the alchemist named Raful Colani had fulfilled his last wish.

"Then it's time to meet him again in my dream."

Meka smiled.

He took out the rusty iron sheet from the gold-rimmed bag, held it in his hand, and turned over to the bed.

...

Late at night, in a ward of the school hospital.

Professor Lockhart walked in stealthily, glanced at the sleeping blonde girl on the bed, wrapped her up with a blanket, and carried her away.

He walked through the corridor of the school hospital and left here, and walked along the path of Hogwarts for a long time, and finally entered a sewer.

Looking up, Lockhart frowned as he looked at the wide and large pipe.

There were mosses in the pipe, and garbage was piled in the corner, which was smelly and stinky.

"Brother, are you sure you want to live here?"

There was a flash of light in his arms, and a voice came out of it:

"Well, it's here, keep going inside."

"Oh, okay." Lockhart sighed: "I didn't expect that you have such a unique taste, brother, and like to live in this kind of place."

He felt his shoulders and neck were sore, and he wanted to throw away the burden immediately.

So he walked a few steps quickly, finally left the pipe, and entered a spacious place.

As soon as he got here, Lockhart was stunned.

The two ends of this place are filled with snake head sculptures, which seem to be cast in copper and iron.

Each head is huge, taller than the body, facing the center of the road, as if to greet someone.

"What kind of place is this..." he exclaimed.

He threw the girl wrapped in bedding on the ground, and then ran over to touch the snake head sculpture.

"It looks very old, it's an antique..."

Lockhart clicked his tongue.

As he was running around and looking around, the voice in his arms stopped him:

"Gilro, let me control your body, I have something to do."

"Again?" Lockhart frowned,

"No, brother, you don't really fancy my body, do you?"

"Don't worry." The voice in his arms said, "I don't like your body, it's too weak, and your talent is not good."

"That's fine." Lockhart breathed a sigh of relief.

But he reacted quickly and showed displeasure again:

"Brother, I'm just sick. Magic occasionally fails, but it doesn't mean that my body is not good."

"Forget it." He said halfway, and sighed again, "Take it. I hope you can treat this disease for me as soon as possible after your business is over."

As soon as he finished speaking, Lockhart was suddenly stunned.

A black mist passed through his eyes, and his face became indifferent. He came to the girl on the ground and looked at her.

The girl frowned, her cheeks flushed, and she was having a high fever.

The whole person looked very weak, and occasionally gritted her teeth, as if she was enduring some kind of pain.

"After so much preparation, it's time to give back."

'Lockhart' had a blank expression.

He took out the wand from his arms and pointed it at the girl.

The black lines immediately covered the girl's face, forming a strange and complex pattern.

A stream of black mist rose and floated in front of him.

'Lockhart' took a deep breath, and the black mist was actually sucked into his nose, pouring in in large pieces.

The power in his body gradually filled up, and he showed an expression of enjoyment, immersed in it, and suddenly laughed out loud:

"Finally back! This long-lost magic..."

At the same time, the girl on the ground kept shaking and twitching.

The blood on her face quickly faded, and her skin became pale and sickly, as if she had not seen the sun for a long time.

As the girl became weaker and weaker, 'Lockhart's' eyes shone brightly, his robes fluttered, rustling, and the black mist burned on his body like a raging fire.

On the face shrouded in black mist, another handsome and pale face vaguely emerged, laughing heartily.

An illusory soul seemed to break through the shackles and come to the world!

……

"Obtain the legacy of Rafael Colani."

"The Transfiguration memory of an old wizard."

"Rafael Colani was a medieval alchemist who naturally devoted most of his time and energy to alchemy.

But don't forget that he lived for more than a hundred years and had rich wisdom and experience, which enabled him to make good use of every moment, and therefore, his attainments in magic were remarkable.

Of course, what you inherited was only his magic about Transfiguration, which he was not good at, but he worked very hard, and therefore, he laid a solid foundation in Transfiguration.."

A wave of memories poured into Meka's mind.

For a moment, Meka felt that he had spent a long time.

Winter went to spring, year after year, he walked through one place after another, bustling streets, extinct jungles, towering mountain peaks... He left footprints and traces of magic in every place.

Time carved wrinkles on his face, and his agile legs and feet began to become inconvenient.

But his wisdom and knowledge grew day by day, and all kinds of magical knowledge took root in his mind and grew into a tree with luxuriant branches and leaves.

His knowledge of Transfiguration grew slowly, and finally, Maka opened his eyes, and the vicissitudes of life passed through his eyes.

He took a deep breath, and his head felt sore, as if too many things were stuffed into it at once.

Recalling carefully, the knowledge of Transfiguration became more comprehensive, bit by bit, and slowly integrated into his magic system.

"Next, it is to practice the relevant magic well."

Maka believed that the level of all the spells related to Transfiguration would be greatly improved again.

This surprised him.

As long as he practiced diligently and digested these memories as soon as possible, he would face Voldemort and the Basilisk again. This sudden surge in magic proficiency would become his new trump card.

……

……