https://novelcool.info/chapter/Chapter-600-This-Was-All-Wade-Gray-s-Design-/13685770/
https://novelcool.info/chapter/Chapter-602-Annihilation-of-the-Entire-Force/13685777/
Chapter 601: Rules
Babuaya, now separated from Harry, leaned against the Stone Wall, his heavy breaths crystallizing into white fog in the cold air. Thick vines—about as thick as fingers—wrapped tightly around his body, their thorny poison paralyzing his muscles, rendering him utterly immobile. Yet his mind remained sharp. He blinked slowly, his eyes fixed on Wade Gray, seated in the center of the Chamber of Secrets, busily at work.
This fourteen-year-old boy had never been taken seriously by anyone. Most assumed he had some talent—yes, but not much skill in battle, and certainly not the temperament for it. His personality was gentle, soft-spoken. How could one person possibly master so many disciplines? Everyone knew that focus was limited. To achieve such depth in Alchemy, how could there be any energy left for anything else?
And what did The Alchemist look like? Before meeting Wade Gray, every wizard would instinctively picture the same image: a man with glasses, disheveled, unkempt, muttering obscure, incomprehensible theories to himself. Jittery, nervous, prone to sudden outbursts. Physically frail, isolated from society, emotionally naive, overly idealistic. Stubborn—once he set his mind on something, he wouldn’t budge. And greedy. So greedy.
Alchemy was an expensive passion. Nicolas Flamel could transmute metals, Terence Mor was a shrewd businessman with shares in several companies—but aside from them, most Alchemists were perpetually short on funds, always scrambling to earn more. If a wizard wanted something repaired—say, a Spyglass or an Invisibility Cloak—they’d better prepare to pay dearly. The Alchemist was seen as a bookworm, a scholar, a tinkerer, a craftsman from the Aslan Magical Workshop line—hardworking, yes, but never a warrior.
But now, trapped by Wade’s spell, Babuaya realized: even mastery of just one discipline—Alchemy—could render an opponent utterly helpless.
He fought against the drowsiness creeping through his body, forcing his eyes open wide as he stared at Wade.
The black-haired boy sat on the staircase, murmuring incantations too soft for anyone else to hear. His wand traced patterns in the air. The chamber’s still vegetation responded to the dance of his wand. Vines peeled off the walls. Moss unfurled like carpets from the cracks. Pebbles rolled across the floor. A patch of wild grass bent low, yanking its roots from the earth. Tiny insects, no bigger than fingernails, tumbled out, scrambling in panic across the stone.
More and more Magic Puppets began to form, glowing faintly in the dark. Wade didn’t spend time on details. All the new puppets were shaped like scorpions. As soon as they touched the ground, they clicked and clacked their way toward the walls, ceilings, and entrances of the Chamber of Secrets.
A sudden chill ran through Babuaya’s temple.
He strained to turn his eyes. There, perched just beside his ear, was a scorpion puppet the size of a palm. Its stinger hovered near his neck. Though the puppet had no eyes, Babuaya felt—unequivocally—its gaze upon him.
"Wade… why…?" Babuaya’s voice cracked, hoarse with effort. "You… already have… the Golden Egg…"
The final Magic Puppet landed. Wade lowered his wand with a sigh.
"Why do you all keep asking this?" he said. "There’s only one Champion. No matter when it happens, I must eliminate the others. So if I take steps to reduce obstacles for future tournaments—what’s so hard to understand?"
He didn’t need to explain the deeper purposes: demonstrating power, proving the value of The Alchemist, even showing how simple Magic Puppet construction could be. That wasn’t necessary.
But let’s be honest—being seen as harmless, a meek lamb, was useful. It allowed for surprise attacks when opponents let their guard down. Yet it also meant enduring scorn, misunderstanding, the quiet sting of condescension. Those feelings were like tiny needles pricking at one’s self-worth—no real harm, but a constant, nagging discomfort.
Wade wasn’t some weakling who relied only on deception to win. There was power in being disdained—yes, but there was also power in being feared. And fear, when earned, carried weight.
Reputation was itself a spell—a currency that could be converted directly into power, wealth, influence. It was an intangible asset, priceless.
As he spoke, a swarm of scorpion puppets climbed the stone platform, stuffed the Golden Egg inside their hollow bellies, then scuttled away in a blur.
The ceiling of the Chamber of Secrets was like a pitch-black dome, swallowing every ray of light. The stone walls were pockmarked with holes. The puppets hid within them, nearly invisible. The only sound was the occasional rustling—like dry leaves swept across a field by the wind. Cold sweat poured down Babuaya’s forehead.
How many of them were there? Dozens? Hundreds?
Though each puppet was made of the most basic materials—easily destroyed by a single ordinary Fire Spell—how could any warrior survive an ambush from such a vast, invisible net?
The Alchemist… Wade Gray… one man, and in moments, he had become an army.
Babuaya strained to keep his eyes open, staring into the dark, hollow expanse of the chamber, listening to the faint whisper of wind from the tunnels. He wondered: why hadn’t anyone stopped him? Didn’t the Referee see this?
Confusion darkened his eyes.
"But… the Rules…" he croaked.
"Yeah," Wade said, smiling faintly. He looked at Babuaya as if at a foolish child. "The Tournament Rules."
"During the Tournament, you may only bring your own wand. One Golden Egg per contestant. You must return with the Golden Egg. Did I break any of those?"
Babuaya: "..."
He froze. His paralyzed mind spun. He couldn’t speak.
"The Rules don’t prohibit a warrior from creating Magic Puppets within the Stadium," Wade continued calmly. "Just like they don’t forbid summoning other aid—like a Flying Broomstick, or transforming into an Animal."
"Spells, potions, Transfiguration, Defensive Magic against the Dark Arts—even Dark Magic—none are explicitly banned. Why should Alchemy be the only one?"
He paused, then added: "And the Rules don’t forbid warriors from attacking each other, setting traps, or even forming alliances. With thirty-three contestants narrowing down to sixteen, competition was the whole point, wasn’t it?"
Babuaya stared at him. A flicker of doubt crept in—despite being pinned to the wall.
He didn’t know it, but the very question he’d voiced was now the center of a heated debate among the Referees watching the Tournament.
Some demanded the Ministry of Magic’s Aurors intervene immediately, declaring Wade Gray in violation and disqualifying him. Others argued passionately that his actions didn’t breach any rule.
When Wade finished speaking, the usually furious Headmasters—those who had been slamming their tables in outrage—fell silent. Their faces remained grim, but they no longer pushed for action.
If this were just a matter between the school and Ministry officials, they might have fought harder for their student. But now, the entire wizarding world was watching. Even the most stubborn Headmasters had to care about their reputation.
Still, as the footage showed the chamber teeming with scorpion puppets, many viewers couldn’t help but look away, their expressions filled with dread.
Abby and the others, meanwhile, remained oblivious. They whispered tactics, then moved forward—toward the Chamber of Secrets, exactly as Wade had arranged.
(End of Chapter)
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