“You—” “This is the technique, Professor Snape!” Thorne moved the instant the other man opened his mouth.
He shoved Snape back into the chair with clean, decisive force.
Then he grabbed Snape’s other hand and without hesitation pressed it straight into the container full of soul matter.
“Come on, do what I said earlier.
Deep breaths,” Thorne said quickly but with certainty.
“It’ll stop hurting soon!” Listening to that extremely unreliable reassurance, Snape couldn’t tell for a moment whether the other man was teaching him a technique or trying to comfort him on his way to the afterlife.
He glared viciously at Thorne, but in the end he still closed his eyes.
He recalled the feeling from earlier.
Imagine… that he was a crystal.
No.
This time it felt completely different.
Snape didn’t feel like a complete, transparent crystal.
He felt more like a stone full of cracks.
Light from outside was slowly seeping into him through those fractures.
At first, the hollow, weakening sensation from constant blood loss was still there, as if his body was being hollowed out bit by bit.
But as the light poured in, those empty spaces began to fill.
Slowly.
Little by little.
The pain disappeared.
Not only that—Snape could clearly feel his body growing stronger, as if some kind of power was returning to him.
Only when a strange sensation similar to “fullness” appeared did he instinctively stop the visualization.
Snape slowly opened his eyes.
Thorne was standing beside him, staring at him with an excited expression.
Snape hesitantly looked down at his abdomen, where the knife had gone through earlier.
The wound had completely healed.
Not even a scar remained.
He glanced sideways at the soul container beside him.
The “contents” inside did seem to have decreased a little.
Snape muttered under his breath, “…Did that count as success?” “Massive success!” Thorne immediately answered, voice full of pride.
“I told you this technique would let you master condensation quickly, didn’t I?
I was right!” As he spoke, he stood up.
“Looks like I really should suggest to Professor McGonagall that students use this method to learn the skill…” He hadn’t finished.
“Professor Thorne, wait.
I have something to say.” Snape suddenly called out to stop him.
Thorne turned around, smiling warmly and naturally.
“No need to thank me, Professor Snape.
It’s what I should do.” The corner of Snape’s mouth slowly curved upward into a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.
“Yes,” he said softly.
“It really is an excellent technique.” The next moment, Snape suddenly drew his wand.
“Sectumsempra!” A moment later.
“Ahhhhh!!” Thorne let out a miserable scream and stumbled backward until he hit the wall, then slid down to sit on the floor.
His body was now covered in cuts of various sizes.
His robes were torn to shreds.
Blood poured from the wounds almost instantly, pooling into a small dark-red puddle beneath him.
“Oh, damn it…” Thorne gritted his teeth against the pain and looked up at the big bat in front of him, voice carrying a hint of grievance.
“We’re both mammals in this cruel world—why are you being so harsh…?” “Also, these robes are expensive!
I charged them to the headmaster!” Snape bared his teeth in a cold sneer, voice dark and cutting.
“I didn’t use the Cruciatus Curse on you.
Consider that an extremely merciful reaction.” As he spoke, he had already stepped forward.
His wand turned slightly in his hand, clearly preparing to cast the counter-curse for Sectumsempra.
After all, it was an extremely powerful dark magic.
If it wasn’t countered in time, even an experienced healer like Madam Pomfrey might be helpless.
Getting even for the earlier attack was one thing—he didn’t actually want to leave the other man with permanent disabilities.
However, the moment Snape got close, he suddenly stopped.
The wounds all over Thorne’s body were now covered in a layer of soft white light.
Flesh and blood were visibly healing at an astonishing speed.
Torn skin knitted back together.
Blood stopped flowing.
Even the scars were rapidly fading.
Snape’s pupils shrank sharply.
“…This is condensation?” He could even heal wounds caused by his own spell.
A chill ran through Snape’s heart.
He instantly realized he had clearly underestimated the role of “soul” in this system.
If this power could be used stably, it might even be possible in the future to create potions capable of healing the effects of any dark magic.
This was truly a field with limitless potential!
And the man in front of him was also a talent with limitless potential… just with a rather erratic way of doing things.
Snape watched the rapidly disappearing wounds on Thorne’s body and thoughtfully rubbed his chin.
Then he turned around, picked up the knife Thorne had set down earlier from the table, and examined it carefully with a slight frown.
“Ow, that spell’s pretty strong.
Faster than the mantis sisters’ blades, just a bit weaker in raw power.” Thorne muttered.
Having just healed the wounds on his body, he looked up and saw the expression on Snape’s face.
His heart immediately skipped a beat.
Almost on reflex, he scrambled to his feet and pressed himself against the door, speaking warily.
“Professor, we’re even now.” “If you’re thinking of adding eight more stabs, I—I won’t be polite!” Snape let out a cold snort and was about to say something.
Just then, the door was suddenly pushed open.
A large mosquito stood in the doorway.
“Professor Thorne, hurry up.
I need more soul—” Professor McGonagall was holding a booklet.
She stopped mid-sentence.
She frowned as she took in the scene before her.
Her expression went through a series of strange changes.
From serious to confused, then to something distinctly odd, and finally shifting rapidly into shock.
Inside the room stood two people covered head to toe in blood, their clothes in tatters.
Fresh bloodstains still remained on the floor.
This… looked exactly like a murder scene!
“You two…” Professor McGonagall stared at them in disbelief.
“What on earth are you doing?” Thorne scratched the tip of his nose, eyes darting.
“Uh, well…” He gave a dry laugh.
“Academic exchange.” “Academic exchange… that requires being covered in knife wounds?!” “Professor McGonagall, you don’t understand.
We mammals are like this.
Without life-threatening danger on the table, we can’t have a proper discussion.”