Chapter 205: Murphy's Puzzle

Side Quest: Establish Your Authority! Complete.

Quest Reward: Armor Spell.

Please, holder, be ready to claim the reward.

A moment later, Tom's mind filled with many memories of the Armor Spell, as if he had mastered the spell long ago.

No matter how many times, the feeling of acquiring a spell or Knowledge through quest rewards is always astonishing.

For a wizard, the Armor Spell is a life‑saving ultimate technique and the best defensive Spell in combat; had he known it before, he wouldn't have been hit by the Leg‑Lock Spell.

With it, in future similar battles he could even emerge unscathed and defeat them.

However, compared to obtaining the Armor Spell, another unexpected gain concerned him more.

Parseltongue.

He is a Parseltongue.

According to Draco, this ability is possessed only by Salazar Slytherin and his descendants.

He is very likely one of the school's four founders, a direct descendant of the great Slytherin!

That means he is more suited to the Slytherin name than anyone else!

Draco immediately declared that Tom is the purest Slytherin, far more fitting than himself to join the Slytherin Brotherhood, even saying, "You should serve as its president!"

Tom wasn't very interested in that so‑called Brotherhood.

A bunch of arrogant second‑generation nobles, if the young wizards inside are only at Draco or De Li An's level, would be less valuable than his own Hero Team.

Nevertheless, he agreed to later check the Brotherhood.

Stupid as they are, they're easy to control, aren't they?

Moreover, since Draco gave him information about his own identity, Tom was in a good mood and spared them any punishment.

After a clash, only the poor De Li An suffered a burnt back of the hand; he didn't dare to report it, swearing under a betting Spell that he had burned himself, so Tom let him go.

At this moment, Tom sat on a sofa in the center of the Slytherin lounge, Crabbe and Goyle standing on either side behind him, Draco at his left, and Pansy at his right, pouring Tom a cup of tea.

Tom didn't touch the tea; his mind was still pondering his own questions.

I can speak Parseltongue; I must be a descendant of Slytherin, no doubt.

But I grew up in Gu'er yuan, my parents are Muggles—what gives?

"Draco, you said your family history is very ancient, right?"

"Yes, of course not as ancient and great as Slytherin, but the Malfoy Family is also one of the few Pure‑blood families in the United Kingdom wizarding world today..."

"Then you must know many secrets of the Wizarding World," Tom interrupted Draco's self‑praise.

"Um, I know some, what do you want to know?"

"You should know I come from Gu'er yuan; I know nothing about my parents or family."

Lately, after frequent contact with Harry and others, Tom found that most people in the Wizarding World seem indifferent to one's background; they judge mainly on personal preference, and reverence for bloodlines is almost confined to Slytherin House.

He has already proven his noble blood, and for those who dare question him, he has found a better way to assert authority—by subduing them.

Thus he has no intention of hiding his lineage at all.

"I want you to investigate the status of Slytherin descendants; I want to know who my ancestors are."

"By the way, have you heard the name Tom Li De Er?"

Draco shook his head, "No, it sounds like a Muggle name."

"Also look up that name for me."

"Who is he?"

"I don't know," Tom said, "but I feel he is connected to me."

"Alright, I understand; I will look into it for you."

On the weekend of the third week, Professor McGonagall found Murphy, "Professor Da Ke Huo Mu, is your puzzle ready?"

Murphy knew she referred to the trap behind the trapdoor, thought for a moment, and asked, "Is the Magic Stone still to be placed in the school?"

Professor McGonagall nodded, "There is no safer place than here."

That means Dumbledore has decided to give Harry a test, and perhaps also set a trap for Voldemort.

However, you old man may be the director, but there is more than one screenwriter; how the plot unfolds may not go as you wish.

"I'm ready," Murphy said.

"Please follow me."

At the end of the fourth‑floor corridor, Lu Wei had been taken away at an unknown time; McGonagall led Murphy through the trapdoor, and midway applied a shock‑absorption deceleration spell to both.

They drifted down slowly for a long time, finally reaching the ground. In the original, this should have been Professor Sprout's Devil's Net, but now nothing was visible; only a dark, damp stone corridor, existing for an unknown number of years, stretched before them at the corridor's end.

"In this corridor, up to the next room opposite, you may set any traps or puzzles you wish," Professor McGonagall said.

Murphy didn't say anything like, "Why not just block the passage completely?"

It was just coordinating a stage with the Headmaster; if he kept talking, Professor McGonagall wouldn't be able to wrap it up, and everyone would be awkward.

"Do you need me to avoid it?" Professor McGonagall asked.

"No need."

Murphy said, waved his wand, and using Transfiguration at a height above head level on both sides of the corridor, created two rows of eight stone niches; immediately, eight crows swooped out from behind him, landing in the niches, each assuming a different posture.

Then Murphy stepped back and set ten buttons numbered 0 to 9 on the wall.

On the stone slab above the buttons, he etched with his wand a line: "C(12,7)+2log(5)10+log(5)0.25=".

That's high‑school mathematics, but throughout Hogwarts, perhaps only a handful could solve it correctly.

Brother Quirrell, study more mathematics.

"Professor McGonagall, my puzzle is set up."

"So fast?" Professor Maige was a little puzzled; she glanced at the crows, then glanced at the text on the wall, C(12,7), log? What does it mean?

"Professor Darkholm, what is the purpose of this trap?" Professor Maige asked another question.

Murphy gave no explanation, took off his left‑hand glove, and tossed it toward the corridor ahead.

"Bang!" A bolt of electricity suddenly lit up from a stone alcove, and before the glove hit the ground, it pierced it, the high temperature instantly igniting it.

Eight Lightning Crows, each crow can release about two to three bolts of lightning; if one cannot solve the math problem and use the answer as the Password to press the keys in order to deactivate the trap, there will be a total of twenty‑to‑thirty lightning strikes, enough to make a challenger drink a pot.

Professor Maige jumped in fright.

"Isn't this a bit too dangerous?"

That bolt of electricity looked quite terrifying, perhaps even lethal, and the trap gave no warning at all; in the dim corridor, who would notice a few black crows? Who would think they could also fire lightning?

"The more dangerous it is to the enemy, the safer it is for us, isn't it?"

In the original work, Voldemort was very secretive about his origins; after he entered the world, his subordinates could hardly ever call him Tom Riddle, and among the good people, only Dumbledore and Slughorn, who taught Tom back then, probably knew his secret. Therefore, according to the original, this name is known by very few, especially in this era— the fact that his name can still appear on the Special Contribution Award says it all.

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(End of Chapter)