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As Harry had expected, Professor Flitwick was quite interested in this child from the European region, who had not graduated from one of the three major wizarding schools.
Arthur grew up in the lower regions of the European magical world, and his spellcasting had subtle differences from the standard Hogwarts curriculum, bearing a strong personal touch. Coincidentally, his magical style shared some similarities with Professor Flitwick's own approach—both were light, swift, and unpredictably tricky. The dagger rain that materialized on the field was an advanced application of the Flying Bird Charm, enhanced with elements of the Transfiguration Charm. While this modification did not equate to inventing an entirely new spell, it was still an impressive feat requiring significant skill.
Most seventh-year Hogwarts graduates would struggle to achieve such a technique, yet this child, who had never received a proper magical education, had managed to develop it through sheer personal effort.
Professor Flitwick had always been tolerant and encouraging toward talented students. Ravenclaws valued knowledge—especially new knowledge—which was born from creativity and innovation.
Harry had no idea what they discussed afterward, as he had to make an appearance for the final elimination match in the arena.
His opponent this time wasn't from Europe or America. Instead, it was a young man dressed in a fitted martial outfit, appearing to be around twenty-two or twenty-three years old. Embroidered on his clothing was a line of text:
"Shu—uh, Laozi Shu Dao Shan?"
Harry blinked in confusion and looked up at the young man, only to see him clasp his fists together in a formal martial salute.
"Greetings, Martial Uncle."
"Huh?"
Harry was completely baffled. Since when did he have a martial nephew?
The young man explained earnestly, "My grandmaster is Xiong Zhenxing. My master told me yesterday that Grandmaster recently took in a new disciple. When I saw you, I realized—it's you!"
"Wait, wait, wait—no, no, no!" Harry quickly waved his hands in protest. "This… what are you talking about? I just got lucky and learned a few things from the master. How could I possibly be considered his disciple? I never even formally apprenticed! This isn't right, this isn't right at all."
"I've only practiced Qi for half a month! I wouldn't dare accept such a title—I don't even have half the skills for it. If people found out, I'd be laughed at!"
Though Harry felt he had done quite well in his training, he wasn't about to embarrass himself by claiming expertise. If he shamelessly accepted the title, it would only become a huge joke later.
"Please go easy on me in our match."
"I wouldn't dare say I can teach you anything. I entered this tournament just to gain some experience," the young man responded modestly. "My surname is Lin—Lin Youtang."
After exchanging a few brief words, the two stepped onto the center of the arena. As they performed the pre-duel salute, Harry noticed that Lin Youtang wasn't holding a wand shaped like a firearm, nor did he carry a flying sword or a sword case. Instead, his hands were covered by half-gauntlet knuckle guards, each embedded with five elongated, high-purity magic stones. In the Taishi Celestial Empire, magic stones were equivalent to spiritual energy crystals—high-grade materials with a wide range of applications.
With their backs turned, they walked to their designated starting positions.
As soon as the starting gun fired, the arena was filled with the sound of rapidly rushing wind.
A faint green ripple of energy spread and spiraled around Lin Youtang's body. Wind-elemental Qi enveloped him entirely, and in the blink of an eye—within just two steps—he had already crossed the forty-meter distance between them, appearing right in front of Harry.
As Harry's so-called "martial nephew," Lin Youtang was a pure body cultivator. His seemingly lean and wiry frame was even slimmer than Harry's, yet when he swung his hand in a swift chopping motion, it sliced through the air with a sharp, lethal whistle!
Suddenly, the scene slowed down in Harry's vision.
In reality, if he wanted, he could see anything in slow motion. It wasn't that the world had actually slowed, but rather that, thanks to his heightened dynamic vision and lightning-fast reflexes, everything at normal speed appeared sluggish to him.
He could track the spin and trajectory of a launched tennis ball. He could adjust his spell's aim even after it had already been cast.
Lin Youtang's two-meter-long Qi blade slashed through the air, but Harry evaded it with nothing more than a slight pivot of his foot, shifting half a step sideways. The fierce opening attack struck only empty space.
"I wonder if the 'Panda Man Iron-Hard Fist' I learned from Grandmaster is any good."
The thought flickered through Harry's mind as he lowered his stance into an awkward-looking squat—the signature posture of the Panda Man Style.
"Twin Dragons Play with a Pearl!"
His fingers shot forward, aiming straight for Lin Youtang's eyes. The wind-elemental Qi surrounding Lin Youtang was torn apart as Harry's attack plunged through. His fingers were wrapped in jet-black Qi—almost like an Armament Haki enhancement—strong enough to grip and crush a steel blade.
"It's actually the Panda Man Iron-Hard Fist!"
Lin Youtang's face twisted in shock as he abruptly leaned his upper body backward. Without moving his feet, he shot backward at high speed, retreating three meters in an instant.
"Isn't that technique supposed to be impossible for humans to learn?! What kind of body do you even—"
"No need for commentary during a fight!"
Harry's explosive shout cut him off, and in that instant, a black, spherical shockwave expanded violently. It roared like a furious lion, its thunderous reverberation rattling the senses, making vision blur and chests tighten.
"Qi Art—Tiger-Dragon Roar!"
His fists, enveloped in black Qi, morphed into the shapes of a dragon's head and a tiger's maw. Their razor-sharp fangs could pulverize anything in their path!
"Mount Tai's Crushing Descent!"
Lin Youtang countered with a vacuum wind blade slash, but Harry soared over it effortlessly. His towering figure leaped high into the air, casting a massive shadow.
By now, Lin Youtang had regained his composure. His expression hardened as he clenched his right fist in midair, forming a bright white energy sphere in his palm.
"Floating Lotus!"
Harry's body twisted unnaturally in midair, dodging the Qi cannon that narrowly grazed his clothes. Just as gravity began pulling him downward, he suddenly shifted his posture, his body twisting horizontally before plummeting with terrifying force.
With a deafening boom, he crashed into the solid arena floor, leaving behind a deep, human-shaped crater. The once-sturdy tiles were now cracked and twisted beyond recognition.
"Rabbit Punch! Mule Kick!"
The seemingly harmless names of these moves belied their raw power. In the hands of a Panda Man, these attacks could only be described as "brutally solid." A barrage of rapid-fire punches blurred into a storm of fist shadows, while a sudden pivoting kick packed enough force to shatter a boulder the size of a grown man.
The arena became a battlefield of flashing silhouettes as the two warriors clashed at lightning speed. Lin Youtang, who converted his Qi into wind energy for enhanced agility, had a slight edge in speed, but his current state was far from graceful—most of his time was spent dodging, and he was looking increasingly desperate.
"Elephant Stomp!"
Harry's massive foot shattered Lin Youtang's protective wind barrier with brute force. Blood sprayed into the air as Lin Youtang was sent flying. His already tattered clothes were ripped further, revealing his lean yet well-defined muscles.
On his chiseled abs, a jet-black footprint was stamped dead center.
But this was only the beginning.
Harry's master had taught him that Panda Man Iron-Hard Fist wasn't just about brute-force attacks. While its moves seemed slow and heavy at first glance, they often led into devastating combos.
The Elephant Stomp, with its exaggerated wind-up, was merely the starting point of a relentless chain attack. And an opponent thrown into midair with no footing to maneuver?
Nothing more than a perfectly helpless target.
Harry's stomped foot struck the ground like a piston, propelling him forward in an instant. He took a deep breath as he lunged, his fists already coiled like compressed springs.
As he exhaled—
A relentless barrage of iron-heavy punches locked Lin Youtang into place, sealing off every possible escape route.
"Elephant Punch!"
The initial strikes were slow, almost deliberate, like the crank of an old machine being set into motion.
But that was just the warm-up.
With each successive blow, the tempo accelerated. The deafening thuds echoed through the arena, like a pile driver pounding into steel.
In construction sites, Panda Men who had mastered Elephant Punch could even replace malfunctioning pile drivers. The ground they compacted with their fists was just as solid—if not tougher.
Lin Youtang, now wrapped in a blue curtain of water, had switched his wind shield for a water-based defensive technique. The water sphere cushioned the impact of multiple consecutive punches, allowing him to break free just before he was completely overwhelmed.
Gasping for breath, he darted toward the edge of the arena in a blur.
His breathing was ragged—like the wheezing bellows of an overworked forge. No matter how rapidly he inhaled, the air never seemed to fill his lungs completely.
He needed time to recover.
Harry's Panda Man Iron-Hard Fist had been utterly flawless in execution. It was one of the ultimate brute-force martial arts, overwhelming all finesse with sheer power. There were no hidden techniques, no tricks—just an unstoppable force.
And yet, outside of the Panda Men themselves, almost no one could master it.
Lin Youtang had been caught completely off guard.
But in battle, hesitation is defeat.
Harry didn't believe in pausing for needless chatter mid-fight. If he had something important to say, he preferred to engrave it on his opponent's tombstone after winning.
His silhouette soared once more, casting a dark shadow over the arena.
His exposed torso seemed like an open target—but that was an illusion.
This was the final, finishing blow of Panda Man Iron-Hard Fist.
"Crow Takes Flight!"
(End of Chapter)