Chapter 428: The Marvelous Subcontinent
Eight in the evening, Room of Requirement.
Hermes stood in the middle of the floor, wand raised to his chest, textbook dueling stance.
Several rounds of getting flattened by Regulus had given him at least one thing: experience at being hit.
Regulus stood a dozen meters opposite, lifted a hand, flicked his wand without ceremony.
Hermes threw himself sideways at once, faster than last time, the dodge tighter and cheaper on effort.
He landed, rolled, brought his wand around, and before a single syllable left his mouth the second attack arrived.
A Curse skimmed the shell of his ear and punched a fist-sized crater in the wall.
No time to breathe. The floor under his boots went hot, heat coming straight through the leather.
He rolled backward clear of it, the hem of his robes catching, a thin curl of scorched smoke rising. Two quick slaps of his palm put the sparks out.