Chapter 589: Crafting the Magic Puppet
Since the demise of the Serpent Monster, Slytherin’s Chamber of Secrets had undergone several transformations. At first, it had become a tourist attraction—StudentRun groups frequently visited, reliving the legendary battle between students and the serpent, scavenging souvenirs from the chamber as mementos.
Later, the School began renovations. Even before Professor Abigail’s abrupt resignation, she had intended to bring students here for live combat training. After her departure, preparations for the Tournament began in earnest, and the Chamber was sealed once more—now undergoing expansion and structural upgrades.
Now, Wade finally saw the chamber in its newly transformed state. The space had expanded by at least tenfold. Aside from the two prominent tunnels, the walls appeared unremarkable, yet traces of hidden magic traps were everywhere—subtle, almost imperceptible, but unmistakable to a trained eye. In the center stood a golden compass, slowly rotating.
It was clear: once the Golden Egg was found, the participants would have to return here to use the Portkey and reappear in the stadium—only then would the first challenge of the Tournament be complete.
Wade narrowed his eyes, studying the unusually oppressive atmosphere of the chamber. He wasn’t particularly worried about how to search for the Golden Egg. What troubled him more was how to achieve his Tournament goal without revealing too much of his own strength.
For Wade, magic had become second nature—so instinctive that it flowed from him without conscious thought. Controlling that instinct was far more difficult than most realized.
Earlier, during the fight with the Fire Dragon, the Shield Charm he’d cast had been slightly overpowered. But that wasn’t a problem. If he hadn’t stood out, how would he have been chosen for the Triwizard Cup? Distinction was expected.
As Wade planned a careful route through the tunnels, avoiding traps, a sudden scream of pain and a pained groan echoed behind him.
He spun around instantly—Isabella was on her knees, gasping for breath. Her face and arms were badly burned, and her clothing smoldered with embers.
“You’re… Isabella?” Wade stepped forward, asking, “Need help?”
Before the words were out, he raised his wand and spoke clearly:
“Fresh Water Spring!”
A stream of cool water erupted from the wand, dousing the flames still flickering across her clothes.
Seeing Wade, Isabella tensed, clutching her wand tightly. Her nerves were frayed to the breaking point—had she not been wracked with pain, she might have already retaliated. But when she heard the spell, her shoulders relaxed slightly.
She cast the same charm herself. The rushing water cooled her burns, and the relief made her hiss through clenched teeth.
“Thank you… I feel much better,” she forced a weak smile, then asked, “Wade, did you find the Golden Egg?”
Inside, she let out a quiet chuckle. Good. Wade Gray is still young, and with his scholar’s nature, he lacks aggression. If it had been someone else… I might already be down.
“No,” Wade shook his head, pointing toward the left tunnel. “I was preparing to explore this way when I saw you suddenly appear.”
Isabella exhaled in silent relief. “Then we should hurry. The more people arrive, the slimmer our chances. Since you’re going left, I’ll take the right.”
“Fine,” Wade agreed, no hesitation.
Yet even as he spoke, his feet remained planted. He watched her limp away, concern flickering in his eyes—but only in appearance.
Isabella moved toward the other tunnel, her mind split: part of her focused on the path ahead, the other half fixed on the boy behind her. She was wary of a sudden attack. More than that, she wondered if she could quietly eliminate this naïve Alchemist before he became a threat.
True, he’d just helped her a little. But in the stadium, allies were rare. Anyone not on your side was a rival. Pity was a luxury no champion could afford.
Yet human attention is limited. When she poured all her focus onto Wade, her awareness of the surroundings faded.
Wade’s eyes narrowed. As Isabella stepped into the tunnel, the stone floor—smooth and unbroken—suddenly bulged upward into a massive mound. She leapt aside instinctively—but the mound exploded!
A thick, green smoke burst forth like a rapidly blooming mushroom, swallowing her whole.
Wade stepped back, wary, but the smoke didn’t spread. It recoiled the moment it touched the tunnel wall, retracting like a living thing. Where Isabella had stood, only an unconscious body remained.
Wade sighed, sympathy in his voice. “Too bad. You’d have spotted the trap if you’d been paying attention.”
He approached slowly, confirming she was completely unconscious. Then, he picked up her wand and gave it a gentle flick.
A burst of golden sparks erupted.
A cloaked wizard materialized from thin air. He stared at Wade with an odd, ancient expression, then reached out and gripped Isabella’s arm.
Wade recognized him—a former Auror who had once worked alongside Kingsley. In his palm rested a tiny crystal vial. As his fingers brushed her, the air twisted around them, and both vanished.
Wade stood at the entrance of the tunnel where Isabella had fallen. He peered inside.
The magic traces weren’t dense, but traps were scattered in the most unexpected places. Anyone rushing in blindly would likely trigger one with just a few steps.
But why risk it? Why walk into a minefield?
Carefully avoiding the explosive patch, Wade moved forward a short distance and settled into a hidden niche.
This spot seemed ideal for hiding—except it was spotless. No signs of concealment.
Yet just ahead, beneath a crack in the wall, a common dark green vine stood out. It was a master of disguise—a Devil’s Net in plain sight.
Wade murmured a spell, waving his wand. The weeds, dead leaves, vines, pebbles, animal teeth and bones, even tiny scales the size of fingernail clippings—all trembled. Without wind, they began to swirl toward him.
Rules forbade carrying a Magic Puppet, but they never said anything about crafting one on-site, did they?
As an Alchemist—Master Mor’s student, the very inventor of the Magic Puppet—this was a skill as familiar to him as breathing. No need to hide it.
With the spell active, a dozen small, palm-sized creatures shuddered to life.
They looked crude—haphazardly assembled from stones for eyes, dried grass and vines for bodies, a bone shard for a horn, and a few leaves as decorative accents. They looked like strange, malformed insects.
Wade raised his wand again, touching the tip to his forehead. He drew a thin strand of silver—his own thought—and split it into twelve parts, injecting each into the creatures’ bodies.
Instantly, their movements became sharper, more purposeful. Their antennae twitched, exploring the air.
Of course, this kind of Magic Puppet was fragile. The materials were too simple. Even under normal conditions, they wouldn’t last long.
“Snap!”
Wade didn’t speak. He simply snapped his fingers.
All the puppets froze in unison—then, as one, they scuttled forward with surprising speed, claws clicking against the stone, vanishing into the darkness of the tunnel.
(End of Chapter)
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