Showing Weakness to the Enemy

This duel was unfair from the start; the scales of victory never tipped in Quirrell's favor.

Quirinas Quiro deserved his defeat; his arrogance and underestimation of his opponent cost him his life, making him look like a circus clown.

He always regarded Belvina as a parasite, a lazy bum who lay on the laurels of his ancestors and waited to die. He believed that if they were in each other's shoes, he would definitely be better than Belvina.

At the same time, his lack of practical experience began to take effect; his attacks were chaotic and lacked any rhythm. His indiscriminate use of spells was merely for show; it might work against minor characters, but it was utterly ineffective against someone like Belvina.

Even if you get incredibly lucky and defeat your opponent, the reason for their defeat is probably because they're laughed at.

Moreover, Quirrell's lack of practical experience led to his inflexibility. When faced with Belvina's insulting teaching, Quirrell's performance was disastrous. He couldn't think of any way to deal with it and was completely led by the nose. How could he not lose?

In addition, Voldemort was also one of the main reasons why Quirrell was beaten so badly.

Belvina's terrible performance that night made Voldemort underestimate her even more and misjudge her true abilities, which is why he foolishly ordered Quirrell to kill her tonight.

If Voldemort hadn't underestimated the young Belvina, he might have left in a different way, and Quirrell might not have suffered such humiliation.

Who could have imagined that his cowardly act that night would inadvertently create a trap, and Voldemort would fall right into it?

If Belvina were shameless enough, she could go out and boast that she feigned weakness and, in the midst of laughter, dug a pit for Voldemort to bury.

At this moment, Quirinus Quirrell's heart shattered along with the broken alder wand. All the glory, all the splendor, all the fantasies of being second only to Voldemort—they all vanished like bubbles, easily burst with a single prick.

Quirrell knelt weakly on the ground, covering his face with his hands, and roared silently. His pride and self-esteem were trampled into the ground.

He finally realized that all his efforts over the past six months had been in vain. He was like a clown performing on stage, throwing knives, walking on stilts, breathing fire, and playing the flute. All he did was to make people laugh.

Belvina looked down at Quirrell, at the final villain of the 91-92 school year, at the kind and good child Dumbledore had spoken of.

The young witch felt no pity or sympathy whatsoever; she even cruelly believed that Quirrell had only himself to blame, that he had brought this terrible state upon himself.

Wanting to become strong is not wrong, wanting to prove yourself is not wrong either; what's wrong is the method and approach.

Just like Betty Braithwaite in the summer, and Quirinas Quirrell now, they both chose the wrong way to prove themselves, and naturally, the results were wrong as well.

New reporter Betty Braithwaite was sidelined and nearly fired; Quirinas Quirrell was humiliated and half-buried in a coffin.

Kneeling on the ground, Quirrell's eyes were bloodshot, his venomous gaze fixed on Belvina as if to say: I will haunt you even in death.

But Belvina didn't care about his impotent rage. All she cared about was Voldemort inside Quirrell. The most dangerous dark wizard in history was the main course tonight. Quirrell wasn't even an appetizer; he was just a side dish.

Belvina broke the alder wand not just to humiliate or show her cruelty, but to guard against Voldemort.

Many wizards are not much stronger than Muggles after losing their wands, such as poor Sir Nicholas Minsey-Poppinton. Even a master of wandless spellcasting would be less effective in combat without his wand.

Belvina wasn't sure how much energy Voldemort had left, or whether he could control Quirrell's body freely. To avoid the possibility of someone else using his account, and to prevent another disaster, Belvina broke Quirrell's wand.

At this moment, if Voldemort and Quirrell don't have any hidden trump cards, it's time for Belvina to wash away her shame.

With a flick of her wrist, Belvina's acacia wand glowed with a blue light, and Quirrell, who was kneeling on the ground, was suddenly sent flying, as if he had been kicked hard in the chin.

Belvina waved her hand again, and another blue light shone. Quirrell, who was struggling to get up, was suddenly slammed to the ground, as if someone had stepped hard on his face.

This was not to torment the enemy, nor to vent anger, but to force Voldemort to reveal himself, and at the same time to force himself to bravely face Voldemort, confront his own heart, and examine his soul.

Belvina waved her hand for the third time, and the same blue light appeared again. Quirrell, who had been pinned to the ground, rolled away like a football, spitting out a mouthful of foul-smelling blood.

The small pool of blood emitted a foul, rotten smell, and the red blood was mixed with specks of silver-blue, which was the color of unicorn blood!

Belvina took a step back in disgust. There were two reasons why she had long regarded Quirrell as a dead man: firstly, he coexisted with Voldemort, and secondly, he drank unicorn blood.

Even if Voldemort's soul had already been torn apart by the Horcruxes, Quirrell, who shared a body with Voldemort, shouldn't have been unharmed. It's impossible for two souls in one body to avoid problems.

Voldemort is a remnant soul; he can possess others and leave at any time. What will Quirrell become then?

Drinking unicorn blood only sealed Quirrell's tragic fate. He couldn't possibly take the Philosopher's Stone under Dumbledore's nose, meaning he couldn't escape the "curse" of drinking unicorn blood. Continuing to hunt unicorns would be like drinking poison to quench his thirst.

In short, Quirinus Quirrell is doomed; perhaps the day he found Voldemort, death had already sealed his fate.

Just as Belvina was thinking about how to push him further, and just as she was considering how to end the situation if she used the Cruciatus Curse, an unexpected change occurred.

The venom in Quirrell's eyes disappeared, and for a moment his gaze became clear, before turning pleading.

He lay on the ground, struggling to lift his head, and pitifully said, "No-no-don't do this, it was all—it was all my master who forced me to do it, he forced me to do it!"

He spoke haltingly, his voice trembling and choked with emotion. Quirrell seemed to have transformed back into the useless Defense Against the Dark Arts professor—cowardly, weak, stuttering, utterly worthless.

The scene unfolding before her eyes left Belvina speechless with shock. She had considered many possibilities, but never this. She had assumed Quirrell would beg Voldemort for mercy, never expecting him to beg her for forgiveness.

What's going on?

Three blows shatter the demon king's dream, Professor, am I one of us?

Belvina thought she had seen a lot in life, but she had never seen anything like what was actually happening before her eyes.

"No—don't do this, Professor Black—" Quirrell said haltingly, his eyes pleading, "Save me—save me, I don't want to die, save me—save me..."

Belvina did not readily believe Quirrell's pleas for mercy, and naturally did not lower her wand carelessly. Her acacia wand remained pointed at Quirrell, ready to punish him at the slightest sign of trouble.

Belvina's biggest concern right now is where Voldemort has gone.

If he was still inside Quirrell, how could he just watch his servant grovel before his opponent? If he had already left Quirrell, why didn't he sense his presence, and where had he gone?

Despite the weakened Voldemort within Quirrell, Belvina remained extremely vigilant, showing the most dangerous dark wizard the respect due to him.

The world is vast, and magic is even more mysterious. Who knows if Voldemort still has some trump cards up his sleeve, ready to pull off an unexpected comeback at a crucial moment?

Using his own weakness and Quirrell's innate skill—"Poor and pitiful"—he can use his frail appearance to deceive his enemies and then strike them unexpectedly with a move that "punches the body and severs the soul."

Bingo!

A notification sound automatically rang in Belvina's mind.

She can "feign weakness to the enemy," so why can't Voldemort? Voldemort was also a Slytherin, a Slytherin who would stop at nothing to achieve his goals!

Lying on the ground, looking pitiful, Quirrell used his arms to prop himself up and slowly crawled forward, shuffling along while begging for mercy.

He sobbed, speaking haltingly, "It was all—it was all his fault. I was so scared, so terrified. I didn't dare disobey his orders... Please—please, save me..."

With snot and tears streaming down his face, Quirrell slowly shuffled forward, pleading for mercy, but in his heart he had other plans. He carefully calculated the distance between himself and Belvina, preparing to launch a desperate counterattack.

It is common knowledge that due to physical differences, normal men can usually easily defeat normal women. So-called self-defense techniques for women are almost ineffective and will only excite the other party more, inviting a more brutal attack.

Quirrell had this in mind: to finish the job with a physical blow. If he could subdue Belvina in one strike and snatch her wand, he could turn the tide of the battle!

Belvina was well aware of this, so how could she allow Quirrell to close the attack distance and launch an attack on her?

The third rule of wizard duels is that when you have the advantage, never give your opponent any chance to turn the tide.

Belvina acted decisively without any hesitation.

In an instant, Quirinas Quiro, who was about to make a move, was bound like a dumpling with thin, long iron chains, his hands tied behind his back, and he was thrown straight to the ground.