Chapter 515: During the Match (2)
Antoine and Dreian were both among the most skilled Wizards in existence. MagicWater was even stronger than most Aurors, yet their Detection Charms, when cast upon the trees, revealed nothing—no trace of magic at all.
Wade knew why.
Every time they activated their monitoring spell, a ring of Magic Runes flared to life just a foot above the tree roots. The Spell, like a moth drawn to flame, would be irresistibly pulled toward the runes and then vanish.
This was a sight only Wade could see. To Antoine and Dreian, it was simply "all normal."
Wade was pondering how to convince them when Antoine spoke again, his tone firm:
"Let's go. This forest hasn't seen magic before. It's just an ordinary forest."
The words barely left his mouth when Wade’s eyes lit up. Dreian, on the other hand, frowned.
"No magic? That’s impossible!" Dreian said, his voice heavy with concern. "How many Muggle Obliviation Charms has the Ministry of Magic cast around here over the past year? How many people have Apparated into this forest in the last few days?"
Antoine blinked. Then, realization dawned.
"...You’re right. That is strange."
Wade ran his fingers over the spot on the Spruce Tree where the Magic Runes were etched. The bark was rough under his touch.
He said, "Maybe the caster only intended to conceal the trees’ anomalies. But the sheer number of identical spells, layered across the entire forest, has created a unique field—a zone so dense that even magic itself, which should be detectable, has been completely masked."
"So," Antoine grinned, "the very preparation the Home guy made to ensure success… actually exposed him?"
"It wasn't a mistake," Dreian said calmly. "If not for Wade’s dream, no one would have even thought to test this place. Let’s try again."
The three split up, moving forward in a line, keeping a few meters between each other—just in case the Dark Wizard hiding in the forest was waiting to strike. Wade stayed in the center, the most exposed position, but the one with the clearest view.
Lights flickered occasionally from the Detection Charms on either side. Wade, by contrast, cast far fewer spells. He didn’t need to—he could see which trees were enchanted, simply by looking.
Suddenly, Wade froze.
He stared at a massive Oak Tree ahead of them.
The Oak was one of the largest and oldest tree species on Earth. In Hogwarts’ Forbidden Forest, some Oaks were over a thousand years old, their canopies stretching wide like city squares, their trunks so thick that several people couldn’t wrap their arms around them.
When Wade had transformed into a Falcon, he’d soared above such giants countless times, awestruck by their sheer presence.
This tree wasn’t quite that colossal, but it was still awe-inspiring—its trunk thick enough to require three or four people to embrace. The key detail? The Magic Runes surrounding it were broken—a gap in the pattern, as if the caster had started drawing, then stopped, failed to restart, and instead tried to patch it with clumsy, hasty strokes.
Wade’s brow twitched—not with excitement, but with mild irritation.
The Dark Wizard had clearly prepared meticulously, laid out his trap with precision, and moved with extreme caution. His obsession bordered on madness—so much so that Wade’s mind briefly conjured the image of the Joker from Gotham.
But then came this flaw. Like a smear of sauce on a masterpiece, or a dirty footprint on a silk robe.
The illusion of the Joker shattered instantly, replaced by the image of a tired student, forced by parents to finish an assignment they knew was wrong—yet still had to submit.
Still, a mistake was a mistake. And for Wade, it was a message: You’re not invincible.
He cast his Detection Charm at the Oak Tree.
The spell’s light, as before, was drawn toward the ring of Magic Runes—then, at the break in the pattern, a faint silver glow pulsed.
Like a dam bursting, the silver light surged up and down the trunk, illuminating the entire tree.
Seconds later, the light darkened—turning black, spreading like smoke. A faint, rhythmic creaking sound echoed through the air, as if something were slowly chewing.
Two seconds passed.
The charm failed. The strange phenomenon vanished.
Antoine and Dreian had already rushed over, staring upward at the tree, watching the sequence unfold.
The night remained moonless—no moonlight to betray their position. Only the dim glow from Antoine’s wand cast shadows across their faces, deepening the creases in their expressions.
“Undoubtedly, this is dark magic of immense power,” Dreian said after a pause.
“Telling us what we already see,” Antoine muttered, rolling his eyes. “The real question is—is this actually the curse that turns trees into living weapons?”
“How would I know?” Dreian replied. “I’ve never seen this spell before. I need to contact Gellert Grindelwald.”
Wade opened his mouth.
“I’ll contact Dumbledore—”
“No need,” Dreian cut in. He paused, then added, “You said Dumbledore and his Phoenix Society are dealing with another group of Death Eaters. If we pull them away, the others might slip through.”
“But what if there are many cursed trees?” Wade said, uneasy. “We can’t risk it.”
“That’s Gellert Grindelwald,” Dreian said simply.
The words carried weight.
When it came to destroying trees—especially those twisted by curse—the most effective spell was always a Fire Spell. Who could doubt Grindelwald’s mastery over fire?
“And what if,” Antoine added, voice still tight with nerves, “Dumbledore and Grindelwald meet up, and they end up fighting each other? We barely survived the last battlefield.”
Wade couldn’t help but chuckle.
Dreian would contact Grindelwald.
Wade, meanwhile, stared up at the towering Oak—so tall it seemed to scrape the night sky.
A quiet dread settled in his chest.
Even if a tree couldn’t move, destroying something this massive wasn’t easy. Even with Inferno Flame, burning it completely would take time. And during that time, if the tree were to awaken—fully conscious and enraged—it could charge through the stadium, spreading fire across every corner, killing thousands.
And it wasn’t just one tree.
The curse had spread across the entire forest.
They had little time.
The stadium was already packed with ten thousand spectators.
If the Dark Wizard was aiming for maximum destruction, he could trigger the forest right now.
He had to be nearby—waiting for the perfect moment to strike.
So if they began chopping down trees without being fully prepared, the enemy would sense it instantly—wake the forest early—and send it charging into the stadium, unleashing slaughter.
Then their only choice wouldn’t be how to stop the massacre—but how to survive it.
—Should they really be putting the lives of everyone inside the stadium in the hands of Gellert Grindelwald?
Wade didn’t think so.
The tip of his wand flared with a faint silver light—then vanished in an instant.
(End of Chapter)
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