Chapter 391: Outrageous Suture (Part 2)

Stark's attitude towards magic is very rational. He believes that it is a power that can be used. If someone spends his whole life studying this power and uses it to the extreme, then he is still a scholar worthy of admiration.

But this does not mean that he wants to learn magic himself. Although he has seen the convenience of magic from Strange and he has experienced the power of the magic energy core, Stark always believes that this is not an ability that can be learned systematically.

The magic he has come into contact with is the kind used by Strange. It is full of too many mystical words and ambiguous hints. Its learning method is not even to the extent of teaching by example. The master is not even responsible for leading the way. The practice from beginning to end depends on individuals.

Stark prefers to make everything precise to the limit of their precision. He hopes that there will be results if there is a cause, and that the input and output can have a clear and quantifiable value, rather than a sentence "it depends on your understanding".

Therefore, when he heard the two words magic and wand, he knew he was in the wrong place.

A school for learning magic? Stark couldn't imagine it, because in his opinion, school is a place to teach knowledge systematically, and a subject that has no systematic education program at all is being taught in school, which is completely misleading.

Stark was stunned for a while, and the other students took out their wands. The teacher looked at Stark who was standing there, shook his head helplessly, cleared his throat, and then tapped the wand in his hand.

A small cluster of sparks bloomed in front of Stark, which made him come back to his senses. He touched the pocket of his clothes, and then took out a small wooden stick from it and held it in his hand.

He discovered this thing last night, but he didn't realize that it was actually a spellcasting tool.

See, magic is like this, this is really a bit absurd, Stark thought as he looked at the wooden stick in his hand.

But then, the knowledge taught by the teacher was a bit beyond his expectations. Stark didn't hear those ambiguous words, such as perception, induction, communication, destiny, etc.

He heard the teacher say: "First, I want to remind you of the way to hold the wand. Some people like to hold the wand with their index finger and thumb. Most wizards like to do this, but some people are special. They like to hold the wand with their index finger and middle finger, or middle finger and ring finger. This is also possible. It depends on you."

"But there is no doubt that you need to find a comfortable posture to hold it. The next thing to pay attention to is that when waving the wand, don't swing your arms too much, but use the cleverness of your wrist."

"This is also the key point of the levitation technique to be discussed in this class. Its basic casting action is 'wave and shake'..."

"First, let's practice waving the wand, and then we can add the spell. Now do it with me, wave, shake, wave... shake..."

Stark turned his head left and right and found that others had already started to do the action, so he hurriedly picked up the wand and started to do it.

For a normal 10-year-old child, this action is not too difficult, not to mention Stark, who has the wisdom of an adult. Soon, he did it very well and even received praise from the teacher.

When he heard the teacher say "Anthony did a good job, let him show you a demonstration", Stark nodded modestly and said, "Thank you, just call me Tony."

As he said, he raised his wrist, waved his wand lightly, and drew a beautiful arc in the air. The teacher applauded, and others cast envious eyes.

After doing all this, Tony was stunned again. What on earth was he doing? Why did he compete with these children? What was the point of this?

But it must be admitted that this was a new field for him. The absolute confidence in Stark's heart rose again. He believed that as long as it was something that could be learned systematically, there was absolutely nothing he couldn't learn.

"Next, we will talk about the spell. Repeat after me, Wingardium-Leviosa-!"

After the class, Stark was still waving his wand. He had successfully made the feather float, but he felt that he could do better. After the teacher announced the end of the get out of class, the classmate next to him pulled him, and he reacted.

Stark suppressed the excitement in his heart. When a new field was placed in front of him, he would study it day and night, but obviously, there was still the next class to listen to, and there were more magical things waiting for him to witness.

The teacher of the second class was very familiar. It was the male teacher who received them on the day of the sorting. He pushed his glasses and said, "I am the professor of the Defense Against the Dark Arts class. This is a subject that teaches you how to defend against dangerous dark magic. Next, we will start the class."

"Defense Against the Dark Arts has a long history. Many evil dark magicians have used powerful dark magic to endanger the safety of the wizarding world. Today, I want to tell you about a dangerous person I have personally dealt with. He is called the strongest demon in history..."

The students were all interested and listened attentively. Stark listened to a lot of stories and felt a little regretful that he didn't learn any new spells.

After a quick lunch in the auditorium, the first class in the afternoon was called flying class. Stark was very excited when he heard the name. Of course, learning magic requires learning how to fly.

Then, when he saw a row of brooms lying on the ground, he was stunned again.

"Now, stretch out your hands and shout "get up" to it!"

The students all stretched out their hands and shouted at the brooms. Stark stood there hesitantly. He had a bad premonition, but at this time, the flying class teacher's eyes had already swept over. Stark had to slowly stretch out his hand and shout to the broom: "Get up."

With a "bang", the broom hit Stark's face directly as if he saw a long-lost relative, causing him to stagger a few steps and fall to the ground.

The students around him all stared with wide eyes. The flying class teacher said, "It seems that we will have another Quidditch genius. You have a good coordination with the broom."

Stark covered his eyes and stood up holding the broom. He held the broom in his hand, as if he was pinching the broom's neck, looking it up and down, and then looked at the flying class teacher.

Sure enough, under his gaze, the flying class teacher stepped on the broom and said, "Now, like me, ride on the broom, and push the ground with your legs..."

Stark covered his eyes again. All this was too outrageous and far beyond his cognitive range.

If someone told him in reality that a broom could fly, and he had to ride it seriously and push the ground with his legs, Stark would definitely punch him.

But in order to keep this dream going, Stark did it anyway. He just stepped on the broom, and before he could push the ground with his legs, the broom "whooshed" up and took him directly to a height of dozens of meters.

Stark held the front end of the broom tightly. He had to admit that he was a little scared. When flying thousands of meters in a mecha, he was still iron wrapped in flesh. Now, even if it was only a few dozen meters, he was still flesh wrapped in iron. If he didn't grab it and fell, he would definitely be smashed into pulp.

Stark kept fighting with the broom in the air, but the broom seemed to have its own thoughts and had to go against him. Stark asked it to lower, but it insisted on rising. The two of them were deadlocked for a long time, and finally it was the flying class teacher who rescued him.

Stark gritted his teeth and stared at the disobedient broom. Before the end of the flying class, he grabbed the broom and said to it: "Next flying class, you wait for me!"

The last class of the day was the potion class. As soon as he walked into the classroom, Stark saw an extremely familiar figure, that was Schiller in a black robe.

When Schiller saw Stark coming in, he widened his eyes, then looked him up and down with an interested smile. Stark stood there staring at him, but Schiller walked to the podium and said, "Go back to your seats, the class is about to begin."

"As you can see, this class is a potion class, which is a little different from other subjects. I really like what the previous professor said..."

"You come here to learn the precise science and strict craftsmanship of preparing this potion."

"This is different from waving a wand and casting a spell, and it is also different from the magic you have in your impression, but it is equally charming."

Stark felt that Schiller on the stage was different from the doctor Schiller he usually saw. In addition to his younger appearance and voice, he also seemed more active. He guessed that this might be Schiller in his youth.

When Schiller began to teach the method of preparing potions, Stark's eyes gradually lit up. He was familiar with this!

There are formulas, recipes, quantitative, and magical and convenient magic. Isn't this a subject tailored for him?

The first potion class didn't talk about any very complicated formulas, but Stark listened very attentively and couldn't wait to try it.

But in the process of making potions, Stark found that it required more educational background in biology and chemistry, rather than mechanical engineering and physics. He touched his chin as if thinking about something.

The day's class ended like this. Stark was alone on the way back to the dormitory, so he had to face the door knocker problem alone.

He walked to the door of the Ravenclaw common room, and then heard the eagle-beaked door knocker ask him: "Do you think more than 40 wedges are enough?"

Hearing this question, Stark squinted and stared at the door knocker, but the door knocker seemed to have suddenly lost its vitality and did not move.

With a "click", the door opened. After Stark walked in, he turned around and looked at the door knocker, but said nothing.

It was another quiet night, a good night's dream.

Charles was the first person to appear in the corridor on the first floor of the Mind Palace. He shook his head and sighed, obviously encountering a room that was not suitable for him.

The next person to appear was Stark. Charles was surprised to see him coming and said, "I thought it would be Steve who would come back second."

Stark sighed deeply and said, "You will never believe why I came back here."

Hearing the anger in his tone, Charles asked curiously, "Why?"

"Because of a broken broom!"

"I fell off a damn broken broom!!!"

Just as he was about to tell Charles about the extremely unsuccessful flying class the next day, Steve appeared. He was exhausted and said in a hoarse voice, "You will never believe what I just went through..."

"You don't know how terrible the place I just went to was!!"

I know who you want to see go to school

The epic meeting of two famous orphans