Chapter 168: Hogwarts' Real-Life Obstacle Course

“I think ‘Ultimate Challenge’ is a terrible name,” Wade said to Michael. “If it’s truly the ultimate, then it shouldn’t be called ‘ultimate’ at all.”

“What if the Final Boss gets defeated?” Michael asked.

“Then you tell the challenger it was just a Black Iron Boss,” Wade replied. “After that come Bronze, Silver, Gold, Platinum, Emerald, Diamond, Master, Grandmaster, Champion. Then one-star Champion, two-star Champion… all the way up to nine-star Champion. And beyond that? The Divine Level. Isn’t that amazing?”

“Please, spare us,” Michael rolled his eyes. “If we keep going like this, we’ll never finish this Obstacle Course in a lifetime.”

“Why do we have to finish?” Wade countered. “A course with an ending quickly becomes just debris in memory. But one without an end… that’s what people can never truly let go of.”

“I actually think… this Memory will never turn into debris,” Michael said. “To be honest, did you make this whole thing just because everyone mocked your Escape and Kill Game version?”

“… How could you even suggest that?” Wade said, his voice tinged with mild guilt. “I’ve thought about this for a long time. I really wanted to make these games more engaging, more meaningful for everyone. This wasn’t just a whim.”

“Don’t lie,” Michael shot back. “Your hesitation already gave you away.”

Wade: “….”

Nearby, the professors watched the students navigating the course with quiet amusement, smiling warmly as the two debated. Even Professor Snape remained silent, his expression unreadable.

Over the past day and a half, Wade had finally begun to grasp just how powerful the faculty truly were.

His memory returned to the previous noon.

…

Padma had pulled together a few girls and, in just one afternoon, sketched out an entirely new design.

It was a vast, giant space divided into seven distinct zones, each a labyrinth of intricate complexity. From outer rings to inner cores, the areas grew smaller and smaller, eventually converging into a single point.

Players had to choose one of seven entrances to begin. They’d need to pass through seven levels of challenges before facing the Final Boss.

Failure or abandonment meant restarting from the beginning.

Michael and the SSC members, meanwhile, had borrowed the entire set of The Protection of Magical Creatures from the library, carefully compiling a list of thirty-seven magical creatures suitable for students.

Wade, on the other hand, reached out to Professor Mor via the Book of Friends and consulted Mr. Scamander. In the end, he designed a new Alchemy Artifact.

Its common name? Real-Time Scorer.

But etched onto its surface in elegant runes was a different title: [Hero’s Ranking]!

While Wade worked tirelessly through sleepless nights, Professor Flitwick gathered every single staff member in the school—Dumbledore, Filch, the nearly-retired Professor Kettleburn, even the Night Kneazle who normally pulled the carriages. No one was left out.

Most faculty members joined in with great enthusiasm, though Filch grumbled about trouble-prone students taking advantage of the chaos.

First came the Herbology professors and their advanced students, who, in a single night, caused countless bushes to sprout from nowhere, completely enveloping the old Game Arena and forming the course’s foundational structure.

Though the thorny bushes weren’t as dangerous as Devil’s Snare, getting pricked by one still hurt like fire. They grew so densely that only tiny insects like ants could squeeze through the gaps.

Next, Professor Flitwick and his Charm class students laid out varied terrain between the bushes—narrow alleyways, swamps, flower fields, gentle slopes, and even seemingly flat grasslands that concealed deadly traps.

Flitwick cast spells on key objects and paper airplanes, making them fly freely through the maze. Players would need to catch them to uncover clues.

He even invited Lockhart to join in. Lockhart waved his wand gleefully, declaring he’d create a “spectacular” scene. Unfortunately, his spell backfired—literally—hitting him instead and launching him into a trap Flitwick had just built.

Flitwick had to send the now-dazed Lockhart to the Infirmary.

Then came the Transfiguration experts—Dumbledore, McGonagall, and their students—who twisted the maze into something surreal and dreamlike. Branches became archways, a single withered leaf turned into a hanging rag, and a rotting apple morphed into a stinking, abandoned carriage.

Dumbledore also added a few clever traps—those who triggered them would briefly transform into goats or wild boars. He looked positively delighted at the thought of seeing someone turn into a goat mid-run.

Meanwhile, Professor Snape and Madam Pomfrey stocked the maze with potions from the school’s reserves—some to repel magical beasts, others to confuse enemies, and a few for healing. But Snape refused to let careless students waste his potions.

So, beside every useful potion, he placed a counteracting one—potions that made people vomit, laugh uncontrollably, pass out, or grow irrationally angry.

He also devised a series of logical puzzles and potion-based Q&A challenges. Answer incorrectly, and the student would suffer the consequences—just like in class.

Finally, Professor Kettleburn and Hagrid, following Michael’s list, released various magical creatures into designated zones.

They’d desperately wanted to use the Fire Dragon Nobeta as the Final Boss, but the other professors unanimously vetoed it.

In the end, they followed Wade’s suggestion.

The final boss? A giant ball python, enlarged by an Expanding Charm.

A non-venomous ordinary serpent, but under magic, it could resist most spells, moved with surprising speed, and had a body as massive as a prehistoric beast.

The serpent slithered slowly through the final chamber, its scales glinting with a metallic sheen. Just seeing it from afar was enough to frighten the timid children.

Wade was already looking forward to the day when students finally defeated it.

Of course, there were also harmless ordinary animals, and some non-dangerous but terrifyingly large insects.

Wade, with a mischievous glint in his eye, assigned the highest point values to the most fearsome-looking creatures—encouraging those who wanted to boost their scores to face them head-on.

Hmph. Can a Sprite give you points? Can a Sprite even be trusted?

He thought to himself.

A giant earthworm burrowed beneath the ground, creating underground tunnels. Flitwick hid the entrances carefully, leaving only cryptic riddles as hints.

Night Kneazles roamed the maze too, helping trapped students escape—though they occasionally added a touch of spooky atmosphere for fun.

Dumbledore even summoned a group of House-elves to serve as lifeguards.

They could Apparate freely throughout Hogwarts, their large ears could detect any sound in the maze, and their innate magic let them sense the deepest needs of those in distress. They were, without doubt, the most suitable rescuers.

This was the first time House-elves had ever appeared openly in front of students.

When they first showed up, they startled several Muggle-born first-years, who screamed, “Get away!” thinking they were part of the maze’s horrors.

But after being rescued a few times, the students warmed up to them, affectionately calling the little sprites “Little Lifesavers.” Some even secretly slipped them sweets or Knuts, hoping to get special favors—like escaping a class or beating a rival. Of course, that was strictly forbidden.

With everyone pulling together, the new Game Arena seemed to grow before their eyes. Within just one and a half days, it was ready for its first test run.

To the students, it was nothing short of a miracle.

When the trial began, Wade and the professors watched from every angle, scanning for hidden dangers or areas needing improvement.

Students lined up at the entrances, Filch scowling, enforcing the rules, making sure no one cut in.

Some, even if they were quickly rescued by a House-elf, immediately ran to the back of the line to try again—eager to attempt a second run.

The reason they kept coming back wasn’t just the thrill of a massive, real-life Obstacle Course in the middle of their otherwise dull academic routine. It was also the giant, constantly shifting scoreboard right at the entrance.

[Daily Scoreboard]

[Single Run Scoreboard]

[Total Scoreboard]

The game had barely begun, yet the rankings were fiercely contested, scores changing rapidly. Names flashed and scrolled up and down—someone who’d just been first would vanish to the bottom in minutes. Others surged from nowhere to claim the top spot.

Just holding the number one position for a few minutes was enough to make a student brag for days.

One of the reasons why point-based games are so addictive? The instant feedback. Students felt a real sense of achievement, excitement, and joy from seeing their progress.

And unlike ordinary people addicted to mobile games, these students had to improve in real ways to climb the ranks—working harder in class, mastering more magic, studying deeper across all subjects.

So the professors didn’t stop them. They encouraged it.

(End of Chapter)

Chapter end