After exchanging blows with the puppet for a while, Rhys discovered a flaw in its design.
To conserve magical energy, the puppet wouldn't go all out from the beginning—which was perfectly reasonable. After all, no one would use their full power just to swat a mosquito. But the problem lay in how the puppet assessed the strength of intruders.
Specifically, it would first release an attack spell.
If the intruder couldn't withstand it, the puppet would enter a dormant state. If the intruder survived, it would switch to a defensive posture and then gauge the threat level to determine the appropriate level of magic to use.
However, Helga clearly hadn't considered what might happen if an intruder intentionally held back or, due to specific circumstances, appeared weaker.
By sheer coincidence, Rhys had stumbled upon this bug—the puppet would not voluntarily increase its attack power!
From the puppet's perspective, the current level of force should be enough to kill Rhys. If the sand golem's first punch didn't kill him, then it would simply throw another one.
But for Rhys, if the puppet didn't activate its domain, it could go on attacking for ten years and still not kill him.
Rhys knew perfectly well that Helga's puppet was capable of activating a domain—but up to now, he hadn't sensed anything like that, which meant the puppet hadn't triggered its domain at all.
That gave him an enormous advantage.
He could maintain the current pace for as long as he needed—until he converted the entire surrounding area into his own domain.
As long as he didn't take the initiative to attack the puppet, everything would be fine.
With that thought in mind, Rhys began to implement his strategy.
Sure enough, the puppet could do nothing but repeatedly command the sand golem to attack him—like a game of whack-a-mole.
Time ticked by, and Rhys successfully converted most of the underground area beneath the grand hall into his domain. What had once been just a patch of muddy ground had now transformed into a small pond.
During this period, he had quietly infused his domain with a considerable amount of magical power, but he held it in reserve and refrained from releasing it, keeping it hidden from the puppet's perception.
After failing to land a hit for so long, the puppet had the sand golem step back two paces and then spread its arms. Seeing the sudden change in movement, Rhys was struck with a realization: this must be a hidden mechanism triggered after prolonged failure—it was about to boost its offensive capability.
And since the giant sand golem already represented the puppet's maximum attack output, the only way to increase further was to activate its domain.
Rhys didn't hesitate any longer. He unleashed the "grand gift" he had prepared for the puppet: with a loud boom, the water in the pond exploded outward, instantly flooding the entire floor of the hall with clear, rippling water.
Rhys's domain was now fully expanded, and in that instant, he cranked its suppression power to the maximum.
And that was only the beginning.
During the battle, the sand golem's arms and torso had inevitably been splattered with a great deal of mud. Over time, that mud had gradually seeped into the golem's body and merged with it.
After Rhys fully expanded his domain, the sand golem froze in place. Large bubbles began to swell across its surface, and the dry yellow sand making up its body rapidly became damp.
Finally—crash!—the thirty-meter-tall sand golem collapsed onto the ground, reduced to a massive pile of wet sand, completely unable to maintain any solid form. Even the puppet standing atop its head was affected—its feet were contaminated by the muddy sludge, which swiftly began creeping upward.
The puppet acted instantly. With a wave of both hands, it severed its legs below the knees, cutting them off to stop the spread of the mud.
It floated into midair, attempting—just as before—to summon sand to repair its missing limbs.
But it quickly realized that the sand that had once covered the hall was now entirely corrupted by Rhys's domain during his explosive expansion. The puppet could no longer manipulate it.
Rhys stared directly at the puppet hovering in the air, his expression solemn. He felt no pride in the success of his ambush—he was rapidly evaporating the water covering the floor, filling the entire hall with moisture.
He knew very well that he was, after all, fighting the puppet in a desert.
Even if he'd gained the upper hand with a clever trick, if this turned into a prolonged battle, he would still be at a disadvantage. If nothing else, the puppet could simply destroy the ceiling of the hall and bury him in an avalanche of falling sand—it would be a disaster.
That's why he had to maximize his advantage in the shortest time possible—and end this fight quickly.
The puppet had already activated its domain, but it was being completely suppressed by the overwhelming domain that filled the surrounding environment, rendering it unable to unleash any of the domain's magical effects.
It paused for a moment, then quickly came up with the simplest solution—blow off the roof.
The puppet immediately raised its head and lifted its arms, preparing to blast open the ceiling of the great hall with a spell. Even if it couldn't completely destroy it, creating a hole would still be a tremendous help.
However, by this point, the moisture in the hall had become so dense that it was condensing into visible clouds of white mist.
Rhys's face was pale. He had poured nearly all his strength into maintaining his domain, exhausting himself to the point where his vision was blacking out and his throat tasted of blood.
But the results were undeniable.
From the explosive expansion of his domain, to the sand golem's collapse, to the puppet floating into midair—less than a minute had passed. Yet the ceiling of the ancient hall was already covered in condensation.
Rhys had successfully extended his domain into every corner of the great hall.
The puppet's attack spell struck the domed ceiling, but was deflected. After a few rebounds, even that bit of magical energy was completely swallowed by Rhys's domain.
Seeing this, Rhys smiled.
"Helga, it seems… I've won."
The puppet seemed to realize its predicament. It simply stopped struggling and dropped to the ground, allowing the muddy sludge beneath it to begin corroding its body.
It stared directly at where Rhys stood, clenched its fists, and suddenly lunged at him.
Hand-to-hand combat? Rhys was slightly surprised—such an action was completely meaningless. He could have just slipped into the mud and allowed it to slowly consume the puppet entirely.
But when he saw that all-too-familiar face—and the expression on it that struck a deep chord of recognition—Rhys dismissed that thought.
He decided to grant his old friend's puppet a final shred of dignity… just like a thousand years ago.
Heh~
Rhys tossed aside his wand, rolled up his sleeves, and charged at Helga Hufflepuff's puppet head-on.
Bang!
Bang!
Rhys's fists slammed into the puppet's face, while the puppet struck him hard in the back.
To be honest, after taking a few solid punches from the puppet, Rhys started to regret his decision—but he gritted his teeth and kept fighting. One man and one puppet, two individuals of immense magical prowess, choosing to settle it like Muggles—with their fists.
But this battle had no suspense from the very beginning.
A few minutes later, Rhys lay flat on the ground, panting heavily, while Helga Hufflepuff's puppet slumped silently beside him, completely motionless.
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