Chapter 681: Two Eliminated!
Krum’s heart seemed to skip a beat.
Beside Wade, a massive Cheetah lay sprawled on the ground—half a man’s height at its shoulder, its emerald-black body sinewy and dangerous. Wade leaned casually against it, one hand resting on the beast’s neck, utterly unafraid of being torn apart.
“Magic Puppet,” the thought flashed through Krum’s mind.
Before he could react, Krum raised his wand with a sharp motion. Just as a red spark flared from the tip, a searing pain shot through his back, followed by instant paralysis.
In his rigid line of sight, fine spores drifted down from above—so delicate they looked like dust stirred by the wind, invisible, unnoticed.
Krum’s heartbeat raced. His breath grew shallow and labored. His vision blurred, darkening at the edges.
He strained to turn his head. And then he saw them—figures that stole his breath.
A giant ape hung from a tree, its body half-merged with the tangled branches and leaves, sprouting wildflowers from its limbs, almost invisible among the canopy. Seeing Krum powerless, it let out a guttural, ancient cackle.
A mantis, over a meter tall, crouched within a thicket. Its scythe-like forelimbs bore jagged serrations. Its three-horned head tilted slightly, as if affectionate, its massive eyes reflecting Krum’s frozen form.
Not… this…
The thought surfaced, blurred and desperate. Krum strained to lift his gaze upward.
On the thick trunk of a tree, a giant lizard lay motionless, perfectly camouflaged, its scales cracked and dusty—spores drifting down like ash from its hide.
The lizard’s long, thin tongue extended from its throat, reaching all the way to Krum’s back. That was the source of the sting.
Krum’s pupils dilated. His knees buckled. His powerful frame collapsed like a puppet with its strings cut, crashing hard to the ground.
In the final moments before darkness swallowed him, he saw Wade walk forward without expression, stoop down, and pick up his wand.
Whoosh—Boom!
A red flash exploded overhead, painting Krum’s furrowed brow with a sudden crimson flush.
“Take care of the others,” Wade said, tossing Krum’s wand aside. He glanced at his Magic Puppets. “If there are any other obstacles in the Forbidden Forest, eliminate them too.”
The mantis melted into the undergrowth, vanishing silently.
The ape’s lower lip curled back, revealing gleaming fangs. It seized a vine, swung with a single fluid motion, and leapt several meters away.
The lizard moved slowest, its claws rising and falling in a rhythmic, deliberate pattern. It made no sound as it climbed, its body blending seamlessly with the bark until it was indistinguishable from the tree—its form completely transformed into the same color.
Then the cheetah stood, lowering its body into a smooth, arched curve.
Wade mounted it, leaned forward, and gently patted its neck. “Let’s go… take it slow.”
The cheetah lifted a forepaw, testing the ground with a cautious step. Then it quickened slightly, its tail swaying as it darted through gaps between trees. Its paw pads bore curved, razor-sharp claws—like hooks that gripped the bark with iron strength. The creature moved with feline agility, scaling trunks and weaving through jagged terrain with ease.
Wade held the cheetah’s neck, a quiet sigh escaping him.
Theoretically, he could have used Transformation Candy to become a cheetah himself and run through the Forbidden Forest. But last time he’d transformed into a Merperson, he’d been able to sustain it for long periods only because he’d added Gill Sac Grass—a rare ingredient—into the candy. He had no such material now.
If he transformed into a falcon, the disguise would be just a trick—self-deception.
An Animagus transformation wasn’t the same as candy-based transfiguration. With so many powerful wizards watching the tournament, he couldn’t afford to be reckless, hoping no one would notice.
Wade ducked his head sharply, avoiding a flurry of whipping branches. He reached up and patted the cheetah again. The Magic Puppet slowed, carefully sidestepping a patch of thorny bushes.
…
Jabari crouched behind a tangle of wild roses, his body transformed into a gray mouse no bigger than a fist. His tiny claws clung desperately to a few leaves. His black-bean eyes remained wide, unblinking.
Though the terrifying Magic Puppets had scattered, Jabari didn’t move. Cold sweat soaked through his fur, sending shivers down his spine.
There’s nothing to fear… He didn’t find me… It’s only because I turned into a mouse that I’m scared…
A high-pitched squeak escaped his tiny mouth as he tried to reassure himself.
That’s right! They’re too bulky to catch me… Even if he sees me, he can’t grab me. And if I can’t fight, I can still escape!
His claws dug into the soil. Instinct screamed at him to flee. Reason demanded he follow.
But desire for victory won over fear.
Jabari took a deep breath, using rotting logs and twisted roots as cover, and crept forward along the shadows, tailing the others from afar.
…
Above, a lion’s head bore the face of a woman. Her almond-shaped eyes fixed on the handsome young man with a low, melodic voice.
“I was born from the mouth of nothingness, yet spoke before the first light of dawn.
I vanish when held, leave no trace when the wind passes.
If written in Flame Books, I rise from ashes.
If called by flowing water, I drown in reflection.
—Who am I?”
Cedric paced back and forth in front of the Sphinx, uncertain. “Is it… smoke? Right?”
The Sphinx smiled in approval, rose, and stepped aside.
“Thank you,” Cedric exhaled, relief washing over him. He was grateful he’d answered correctly on the first try—and even more grateful for his Ravenclaw friend, who’d always liked to quiz him with strange riddles.
As he passed, the Sphinx’s pupils suddenly contracted. She lifted her upper body, her brow furrowed, glancing toward a nearby bush.
A moment later, she looked back at Cedric’s retreating figure, her lips curling into a mysterious smile once more—then she settled back down, as if nothing had happened.
…
Thud!
The sound of a branch snapping echoed inches from his ear. Cedric’s spine prickled. He whirled around—just in time to see a cold blade slicing through the air toward his neck.
“Shield Charm!”
In a split second, he screamed the incantation. His body convulsed like he’d been struck by lightning.
Clang!
The blade met an invisible barrier. A ripple of force spread through the air. The shield lasted only a second—then shattered violently.
Cedric rolled away, scrambling to his feet. He swung his wand again.
“Stupefy!”
Red light streaked through the air—but missed. It struck a tree beside him, exploding with a thunderous crack.
His attacker was far shorter than expected. A three-horned green head emerged from the forest, eyes as large as tennis balls, its mouth lined with jagged, interlocking fangs.
The mantis lunged forward, blades slashing. Cedric barely dodged, but a second scythe tore through his shoulder.
He screamed in agony, driving his wand hard into the puppet’s maw. “Disintegration Spell! Thunder Explosion!”
Boom!
The explosion rocked both of them. Cedric was thrown backward, crashing into an ancient oak. Pain shot through his ribs—like they were breaking.
Blood trickled from his forehead. He gasped, struggling to breathe. Through blurred vision, he watched the mantis—half its body shattered—crawl toward him, its head barely attached by a thread of flesh, yet still coldly raising its bloodied blade.
Cedric struggled to lift his wand. “Petrificus Totalus! Stupefy! Disintegration Spell! Disintegration Spell!”
One by one, the puppet’s parts exploded—each time, it sacrificed a limb or segment to absorb the spell’s impact, buying time.
Finally, it reached him. With its last remaining forelimb, it slammed down hard—sending the wand flying.
Pain paralyzed Cedric. He couldn’t rise. He closed his eyes, resigned.
Then he felt the cold edge of a blade press against his throat.
Just as the Auror was about to intervene—his wand glowing with power—suspended mid-air—Cedric opened his eyes.
Before him, the mantis’s broken puppet let out a ragged, broken voice:
“R—recognize… defeat… or… no mercy…”
Cedric let out a hollow laugh. “Ha… Wade’s such a home,” he coughed, spitting blood.
He felt the weight of his injuries. He knew—this tournament was over. And yet, strangely, he felt… free.
He raised his hands, voice weak but clear. “Abandonment… I abandon the tournament…”
A figure plunged from the canopy. Tonks, riding a broomstick, landed beside him. She waved her wand, and surrounding branches twisted into a makeshift stretcher. She lifted Cedric onto it and flew him upward, toward the high altitude.
Cedric turned his head, his vision still hazy. He watched as the mantis’s remains—cracked, scattered—fell apart as if dismantled by invisible hands. It transformed into a pile of weeds, dry wood, vines, and scattered debris.
“…That’s terrifying… Wade’s Alchemy…” Cedric murmured.
Tonks nodded, her hair shifting to deep blue from tension. “You’re telling me! Making insects that big… just thinking about it gives me chills! You actually fought that thing? Mr. Digory, I know you’ll be proud of your courage!”
She shuddered, rubbing her arms. “I just don’t get why Wade Gray always loves turning his Magic Puppets into insects. That kind of obsession… it’s just too scary!”
Cedric gave a weak, tired smile.
The “scary” he meant… wasn’t this kind of fear at all.
(End of Chapter)
Chapter end
Report
