Chapter 213: The Duel!

Despite Professor McGonagall's strong opposition, the duel, insisted upon by both parties involved, began the next morning at dawn.

The two arrived at the agreed-upon location near the stone circle, where a platform had been erected.

Numerous magical potion ingredients were laid out on several rows of wooden shelves next to the platform—Snape had nearly emptied his personal collection for this duel.

In the center, two potion workbenches were set up.

Snape's workbench was equipped with a folded crucible, as well as knives, tweezers, pestles, mortars, and various bottles and jars, almost identical to the ones students commonly used for potion practice.

Murphy's workbench, on the other hand, appeared much stranger, not to mention the odd glass instruments; it didn't even have a crucible, but rather many more instrument-type tools.

Both were standing by their respective workbenches, facing each other.

"If I lose, I will cancel practical classes, restore the tradition of the four house tables, and no longer interfere with the daily teaching and management of the school," Murphy declared, referring to the stakes they had agreed upon the day before.

Many young wizards had gathered around the platform; in fact, almost all of the school's students and teachers, except Professor McGonagall and Dumbledore, were present.

After all, it was their first time witnessing two professors duel in person.

As soon as Murphy finished speaking, a wave of whistles and cheers erupted from the audience.

Murphy glanced over, noticing most were students from fourth year and above, not just from Slytherin, but also from Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, and Hufflepuff.

There were voices in the school skeptical of his educational reform plan. Since he was both a board member and professor, and had Dumbledore's tacit approval, no one openly opposed it.

Snape's challenge today had become a catalyst, bringing these dissenting voices together.

The duel was now not just about personal grudges between him and Snape.

It was a decisive moment for the continuation of his practical classes and educational reform.

In such a case, if he lost the duel, the core idea supporting his classes and reform—scientific methodology—would lose its persuasive power.

After all, if such a complex approach to simple "wishful magic" proved less effective than traditional methods, wouldn't it be redundant?

Even if Snape hadn't suggested such stakes, the outcome would likely turn out the same if he lost.

"If I lose, I'll leave the school, and you can continue with your grand plans," Snape said coldly, as if it was as trivial as buying a bottle of wine from Hogsmeade.

The students immediately began murmuring amongst themselves. Snape had staked his job on this duel!

While Murphy's stake seemed similar, Murphy was still a wealthy board member and probably only taught as a hobby. Even without teaching, he could live very well. But what about Snape? Where could he go if he left the school?

Work in a potion shop? Remember, almost all the potion shops in the British wizarding world were owned by Murphy!

Murphy, with his excellent hearing, could clearly hear the students' discussions. As an old-school professor at the institution, Snape wasn't widely liked, but his all-or-nothing bet immediately garnered him widespread sympathy.

"There's no need for that," Murphy said with a smile. "Otherwise, I'd have to trouble the headmaster to find a new potions professor. How about this: if I win, Slytherin won't receive special treatment, and you won't oppose me on practical classes. In addition, you have to agree to one thing for me."

"What's that?"

"I haven't decided yet, but it shouldn't be too difficult for you."

"And what if I agree?" Snape snorted. "Would you trust my promise?"

"Whether I trust you or not is my problem," Murphy replied, still smiling. "It's just a word after all. Even if you go back on it, I won't mind."

Snape stared intently at Murphy, unable to understand his intentions, but it was a trivial bet either way, and he couldn't possibly lose.

"Whatever."

"Excuse me, pardon me..." A short, plump witch made her way through the crowd and soon reached the platform. "Professor McGonagall is very angry about this. She finds it absurd and refuses to witness it. So, I'll do it."

Professor Sprout looked at them with some helplessness. "Seriously, do you really have to go this far?"

Snape: "Hmph!"

Murphy: "Thank you, Professor."

"Well then..." Professor Sprout sighed. "The rules of the duel are simple. Using the materials here, each person will consecutively prepare a potion for the other to drink. The opponent has ten minutes to create an antidote before drinking the potion. After drinking the opponent's potion, you can then prepare your own for them. This continues until one side admits defeat or collapses."

Originally, Murphy suggested they each choose a student to prepare potions, with themselves as guides, to effectively demonstrate the superiority of their teaching methods.

But Snape rejected this, obviously aware of his own shortcomings.

"Of course, we won't allow the preparation of lethal poisons," Professor Sprout said worriedly. "You don't want to become murderers, do you, gentlemen?"

"In addition, Madam Pomfrey will be on standby. After the duel, you will both receive treatment."

"But the outcome of multiple potions mixed together is unpredictable... This, Professor Snape, you know better than I... I sincerely hope you reconsider..."

But neither Murphy nor Snape showed any intention of backing down, so Professor Sprout sighed again. "No one can stop wizards from recklessly dueling to the death. Well then, the duel begins. You may start making your potions."

Snape seemed to have been waiting for this moment for a long time. With a wave of his wand, he summoned several ingredients to his table and immediately started brewing.

On the other side, Murphy glanced at Snape's ingredients—wormwood, sopophorous beans, daffodil bulbs, valerian sprigs...

Was he making Living Death? A strong choice, indeed. This potion had a powerful sedative effect, putting someone to sleep within seconds of ingestion, leaving no time for any other action. If the potion wasn't identified, and the wrong antidote was prepared, the match would be lost on the spot.

Even if it was identified, the stimulant potion needed as an antidote was challenging to prepare in just ten minutes.

And surely, Snape would have modified his Living Death potion. Murphy didn't believe otherwise.

His plan must be to quickly prepare a modified Living Death before completing his potion. In that case, Murphy would have to test the potion first, and if he couldn't decipher the modified formula within ten minutes, he'd lose.

But if Murphy saw through his plan, how could

he let it succeed?

Murphy also waved his wand, summoning more than a dozen ingredients from the shelves. Without even looking, he crushed them into powder with his wand, set up a large beaker, tossed the ingredients in, and boiled them with high heat for half a minute. He then poured the liquid into a crystal vial—as per the rules, the amount of potion produced could not exceed the small vial's capacity.

The vial was quickly filled halfway. Murphy picked it up, brought it to his mouth, and spat into it.

"Hetui!"

After shaking the vial, he placed it on Snape's table. "Professor Snape, if you please."

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