Louis was quite lucky—had Hermes not discovered the issue within him, his constant strengthening of Positive Qi Magic would've eventually led to disaster.
But of course, Louis would never admit he was some kind of "bad seed." Go ask around Hogwarts—what student would dare say anything bad about Louis Wilson?
>"The true essence of the Twelve Talismans' power is the Dark Qi Magic once wielded by Shendu. Only by completely shattering the talismans' bindings can you fully control that power—maybe even ignore the natural restraints of mutual suppression,"
Louis recalled a certain episode from the animated series.
There was a time when the power of the Twelve Talismans, triggered by external stimuli, separated from the talismans and entered the heroine Jade's body.
At that point, she could use all the powers without limitation.
Talismans could be destroyed—and when they were, their powers scattered across the world like shards. That didn't seem like a "normal" state of power at all.
"So what I need to do is destroy the talismans… But they're inside my body."
Louis focused his fully-darkened Qi Magic inward, scanning his body. He quickly located the talismans.
Though they resided within him, their state was somewhere between physical and non-physical. They couldn't be detected by ordinary means—only through Qi Magic's introspective ability could they be perceived.
The twelve talismans formed a ring inside him, constantly emanating power that filled Louis's body.
He directed a strand of black Qi toward the Pig Talisman—but in that instant, all twelve talismans lit up with a surge of Positive Qi Magic that repelled his consciousness entirely. When Louis came to, he had already been forcibly ejected from the introspective state.
"Looks like your first attempt failed," Hermes commented. "That's normal. The dark power inside you is strong, but the light force wrapping around it is even stronger than your own. This'll be a long process."
"Alright, I get it." Louis stood up, and the Volumen Hydrargyrum reformed into a mist and followed at his side.
Hermes, who had just been preparing to start teaching alchemy, froze and asked, "What are you doing?"
"Can't you tell? I'm tired. Taking a break," Louis yawned, stretching lazily.
He'd spent the entire month focused on carving and refining Hermes's statue—he was utterly exhausted. Now that the job was finally done, how could he not rest?
"Rest? At your age? Shouldn't you be eager to study, gain knowledge, and become a great hero who saves the world?" Hermes widened his eyes.
"You're thinking of the standard protagonist. I'm the villain type, thank you. No hard work, just slacking," Louis replied, grabbing Hermes's head and shoving it into his pocket despite the latter's protests.
"An hour or two of study a day is more than enough."
He patted the bulge in his pocket and added, "Sorry, Mr. Hermes. Maybe it's been too long since you've dealt with wizards, but here, anything that can talk and doesn't look human is usually classified under Dark Magic. If you don't want to be 'terminated,' best not to get discovered."
Louis wasn't lying—this was common knowledge in the wizarding world.
Hermes, who had been planning to poke his head out again, stopped.
"Can't you just leave me in that room? It felt isolated from the outside world," he suggested from within the pocket.
"No can do. That room might be hidden, but I've got friends who drop by now and then. You'd be stuck inside, and they wouldn't even be able to open the door," Louis explained as he walked out of the Room of Requirement.
He headed down the moving staircases—only to run into a large crowd rushing toward him, seemingly from the castle's main gate.
They were carrying someone in a hurry.
Looked like someone had been injured?
Louis shook his head and stepped aside.
He'd never understood wizards. They didn't develop a proper melee system, yet loved violent games like Quidditch… Then again, maybe that's why they didn't develop a combat system—so Quidditch wouldn't get even more brutal.
Still, needing emergency aid for a game? Louis couldn't wrap his head around that.
Just like most Muggle sports—it lacked elegance.
He'd rather study magic.
As the crowd passed by, Louis spotted a familiar face—Hermione.
He reached out and grabbed her arm, pulling her out of the throng. She staggered slightly, nearly falling into his arms from the momentum.
Then, some random student bumped into her from behind—launching her straight into Louis's chest.
Hermione's fluffy hair brushed up against Louis's nose, and he was instantly engulfed in a soft floral scent.
Falling into someone's arms like that seemed to be a bit much for Hermione. She instinctively pushed Louis away—not angry, just blushing furiously.
Louis smiled. "Seems like I'm pretty lucky today."
Blushing and annoyed, Hermione gave him a light punch in the chest and muttered, "This is where you should apologize first, idiot."
"Right, my apologies for startling the lady," Louis said with mock formality. "I was just curious—what happened? Who's the one being carried?"
"It's Harry," Hermione replied worriedly. "He got hit by a rogue Bludger during the match."
Louis raised an eyebrow. "A Bludger? Isn't that the ball that only targets broomsticks? Was it lured over by someone?"
There were no protective measures around Quidditch fields. Players just flew around on brooms, and any slip-up could lead to them crashing into the stands—and people getting hurt.
Of course, anyone who could fall off their broom mid-match didn't belong on the pitch to begin with. Most Quidditch players would instinctively cling to their broom even if knocked unconscious—partly to protect the spectators, and partly to protect themselves.
"That's why they said it went rogue. Someone said it had been cursed beforehand, but I don't think that's it. While I was watching, I noticed Snape casting spells—and during the entire attack, his eyes were locked on that Bludger," Hermione said seriously.
So in the end, Snape took the fall.
Harry Potter, not yet a Quidditch player, had still become a target—Quirrell had found his opening. That rogue Bludger was clearly controlled by him.
Snape, as always, played the scapegoat role flawlessly.
No wonder Quirrell had dared to go watch Quidditch while slacking off. Voldemort didn't punish him because he was planning something big.
Too bad for him—he failed.
Because Snape had been watching Harry the whole time.
*