Theodore didn't believe Marius Cloud could do anything impressive. He leaned in obediently. "What 'treasure' could you possibly—?"
BOOM!
An explosive blast ripped through the air right in front of Theodore, hurling his body backward like a ragdoll. He spun wildly mid-air before crashing through a glass window, landing with a pitiful thud in the manor's garden!
"Oh dear, oh dear. You know how these magical surges work—just a little uncontrollable magic," Marius said with zero sincerity, a smirk tugging at his lips. "So yeah, that was just an accident."
Creating a magical phenomenon was laughably easy for him. With both his mental focus and magic reserves at freakish levels, all he had to do was let go—and his power would wreak havoc on its own.
His explanation left Lord Nott seething. He shot to his feet, fists clenched, but… what could he say? His son had picked the fight. His son had asked to see a magical surge. And Marius's words had no cracks to pick at—after all, a surge was by definition a loss of magical control. If it could be controlled, it wouldn't be called a surge in the first place.
So even if Marius's face practically screamed, "Yeah, I did it on purpose," Lord Nott had no grounds to argue.
Worse still, his son was hurt. That alone forced him to swallow his fury and stifle the urge to draw his wand. With a furious snort, he stormed off through the manor's entrance to check on Theodore.
Watching him go, Marius couldn't help but sigh in disappointment. Shame… I was really hoping he'd snap. It would've been fun to watch a duel. After all, both Alaric and Elara Cloud weren't exactly slouches with a wand—and this was their turf. The other guests, bound by both etiquette and alliances, would side with the Cloud family without question. If Lord Nott had lost control, it would've been a one-sided massacre.
Still, his parents seemed more impressed than worried.
"Marius," Alaric said, blinking in astonishment. "Was that for real just now? You've always been able to trigger a magical surge, haven't you?"
They didn't scold him for hiding it. To them, Marius had always seemed wise beyond his years. If he hadn't told them, it was because he had his reasons.
"That's right," Marius replied calmly. "But I've always believed that losing control isn't something to be proud of. So I made sure to never let it happen."
A stunned silence fell over the room. The explosion was still fresh in everyone's minds.
What had they just witnessed?
A boy—just a child—who could suppress and perfectly control his magic for years? An otherworldly genius had just revealed himself before their very eyes.
This wasn't a once-in-a-century talent. This was the kind of prodigy who rewrote history. Never before had the wizarding world recorded such an unparalleled talent.
In magical society, it was an accepted truth that children who displayed magical surges at a young age were the ones with great potential. Those without surges were often simply born with weak magical power.
But that explosion earlier? That was not from someone with "weak" magic—it was the kind of destructive force no child should be capable of unleashing.
The worst off by far were the Malfoys.
Lucius felt as if he'd been slapped—hard.
He had just mocked Marius for being talentless… only to be silenced by irrefutable proof to the contrary. The blow to his pride was almost physical.
As for Draco, the sight of Theodore being launched into the stratosphere had left him shaking behind his father's robes, desperately hoping Marius wouldn't turn his attention toward him next.
He'd already suffered at Marius's hands when Marius wasn't using magic… Now that he could, and did, who knew what new nightmares lay in wait?
But just because the Malfoys were trying to stay quiet didn't mean Marius was going to let them off the hook. With a wide, very insincere smile, he continued:
"What's a bit unfortunate though," he said thoughtfully, "is that after releasing all that control, my magic's become rather unstable."
"Wha—?!"
Before Lucius or Draco could even process that sentence, Marius threw his arms up dramatically.
"Oh nooo~ my magic's totally out of control!"
And then he let it rip.
His performance was so hilariously fake that even Alaric and Elara couldn't keep a straight face. But no one could look away—because the results were devastating.
"Apologies in advance," Marius added, completely deadpan. "Our house-elves might have a bit of extra cleanup to do."
An unrelenting torrent of magic surged outward in every direction, triggering an enormous magical phenomenon. Most kids only lost control of a tiny fraction of their magic during surges. But Marius had deliberately let all of his power loose—with precision, with intent.
The direct result?
Every dish, every platter, every towering cream cake and decorative candle—all the cutlery, all the plates—came together like a tidal wave and slammed straight into the Malfoy father and son.
"Protego Totalum!"
Lucius finally snapped out of it, drawing his wand in panic. He conjured a defensive shield just in time to avoid being impaled by a flying fork.
But the damage to his pride was irreversible.
A grown man, the patriarch of House Malfoy, forced to defend himself from a child's outburst… in public?
It was humiliating.
"Oh," Marius said, full of mock sympathy. "What terrible luck, Mr. Malfoy. I'm ever so sorry."
He leaned into the word accident with a grin.
"But as everyone knows, magical surges are uncontrollable. So really, I'm afraid I can't take responsibility for this… incident."
Now Lucius understood exactly how Lord Nott had felt earlier.
He trembled with rage, jaw clenched so tightly he nearly cracked a tooth. He wanted nothing more than to pull his wand and cast an Unforgivable Curse on this smug little devil.
But Marius hadn't technically done anything wrong. Everything he'd said—everything—was technically true. Lucius had nothing he could argue with. He couldn't even muster a comeback.
And judging by how the surrounding guests were all discreetly fingering their wands—ready to defend the Cloud heir if Lucius stepped out of line—he had no choice but to swallow his fury.
Humiliation.
Lucius cast one last look at Marius, eyes burning with suppressed hatred. "Draco," he snapped, "we're leaving."
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