Chapter 284: Lightning on the Earth! An Independent Organiser Really Doesn't Hold Back
Oh, this is going to be fun. Ethan could hardly wait to see how this batch of champions planned to deal with a dragon.
He bared his teeth in a wide grin.
"You… you're insane!" one of the Durmstrang champions shouted.
He glared at Ethan, his rugged face turning a sickly shade of green. "Doing this, are you not afraid of being dragged before the Wizengamot?!"
"I have already been once," Ethan said mildly. "First time was a bit awkward. Next time will be much smoother."
The big man choked, stunned into silence. A flicker of fear crept into his eyes.
"No need to be so nervous," Ethan added, head tilted, voice gentle. "If you really do get wiped out, I will haul you back up."
Hero vs Demon Lord was a very popular classic for a reason.
"Y-you lunatic!" Bloodshot veins crawled across the Durmstrang boy's eyes.
He suddenly whipped up his wand and roared, "Stupe—"
"Petrificus Totalus."
A spell faster than his own hit him squarely. His limbs snapped together with a crack; he toppled like a felled plank.
"Honestly. You haven't even cleared normal mode, and you want to skip straight to nightmare mode," a mocking voice said. "Are you brain-damaged?"
Krum and the others jerked their heads up.
They met the Weasley twins' taunting expressions and the wands levelled in their hands.
Beside them stood Harry Potter, the so-called Chosen One. Gone was the usual slightly dopey look; his face was solemn, cold, enough to send a chill down their spines.
Such speed.
Only now did they truly register what had just happened.
What kind of training have they gone through?
Krum swallowed hard, pressed his lips together, and tightened his grip on his wand.
Ethan raised an eyebrow at his Morning Star Club members.
Harry gave him a quick, reassuring smile.
The twins shot him a confident thumbs-up.
So yes, Barty.
As long as Ethan set foot in the arena, anything could happen.
But if this was the extent of the attempt on his life, it was still far from enough.
He smiled, then glanced at the Durmstrang champion on the ground, eyes red with rage.
Before Ethan could speak, Krum bowed his head and said, "My apologies, Ethan. It will not happen again."
He turned away, a vicious glint in his eyes, and kicked his own teammate clean off the platform.
Gasps rippled through the stands.
"Useless," Karkaroff sniffed. "He was only there to make up the numbers beside Krum."
"Well then," Ethan said, steering things back on track, "let us look forward to your performance."
He leaned back.
His body slid into a yawning black doorway behind him, vanishing from sight and revealing the two points of scarlet light burning beyond.
"They're here," Fred Weasley muttered, eyes blazing. "Time to show them Hogwarts' tactics."
"Firebolt, Nimbus Two Thousand, come!"
Three voices overlapped.
In the stands, students looked at one another in confusion.
Until Cedric pointed skyward, shouting, "Look! Brooms!"
Cries rose as three black dots hurtled closer, swelling with astonishing speed.
"Long-range summoning! Exquisite control of magic!" Professor Flitwick all but bounced on the spot. "Thirty points to Gryffindor!"
Even the other champions could not help but murmur in admiration.
"An aerial battle," Krum said under his breath. "Very creative."
"But just summoning them is nowhere near enough."
As if to prove his point, a thunderous roar split the air.
The black dragon gave a lazy toss of its head and swatted all three brooms out of the sky.
"My Firebolt!"
Harry's heart plummeted. That broom had been Sirius's birthday present.
He lunged forward, only for the twins to grab him and yank him back.
He looked up and saw the scarlet Thunderlances hanging overhead.
Oh, mate. Run.
Harry's legs were already moving.
"Protego!" someone screamed.
The scarlet spear came down.
For a heartbeat, time crawled.
The champions were flung into the air like round peas, tumbling weightlessly. Everything was drenched in crimson light.
There was no sound at all.
As if someone had hit mute on the world.
Then—
Boom.
The detonation swallowed the arena.
Dust fountained upward like a tidal wave.
"Harry!"
Hermione gripped the rail with white knuckles, craning over it.
She searched the wall of smoke anxiously for her best friend's silhouette.
Nothing.
It was as if a thundercloud had exploded on the ground; not even a glimpse was visible.
"Urk—"
The witches and wizards maintaining the barrier felt blood surge in their throats.
What terrifying power.
"The shield is going to give way, we have to—"
Before the sentence could finish, a fresh surge of magic flooded into the barrier.
It was like a pair of massive hands bracing their buckling bodies.
"It's Ethan! Ethan's reinforcing it!"
Light sprang back into their eyes. Colour returned to their cheeks.
Ethan pressed his palm to the translucent dome.
Golden magic flowed over his body like a flock of circling birds.
The sheer pressure of it made his cobalt eyes blaze with molten gold.
"Amazing…" one of the defenders breathed.
They felt their spirits lift and poured more power into the shield.
As adults, there was no way they could be outdone by a schoolboy.
"Charge!"
Ethan paid no attention to the suddenly inspired barrier team.
His gaze pierced the churning smoke.
"Let us see what kind of potential you can dredge up when you are pushed to the brink," he murmured.
On the field, the dust began to thin.
The Beauxbatons squad lay strewn about the edges of the arena.
The two remaining Durmstrang champions huddled behind a half-collapsed stone wall they had transfigured, coughing their lungs out.
"It… it tingles," one of the Weasley twins groaned.
They curled on the ground, their bodies crackling with scarlet sparks.
The odd thing was that it did not exactly hurt. It was more like having sat on a loo too long.
Every inch of skin was prickling with pins-and-needles numbness.
And it itched. Itched like mad.
"Cough… cough!" Harry pushed himself up, tapped his dust-caked glasses with a Cleaning Charm, and stared at his own hands in disbelief.
"I'm… still alive," he whispered.
"Yeah," one twin wheezed.
Their faces were screwed up so comically they hardly looked human.
Barely daring to move, they lay there and hissed between their teeth.
"Ethan held back. Just not very much."
They tipped their heads back to stare at the dragon towering above them like a mountain.
A single thought circled in their minds.
If one strike was survivable, what about a second? A third?
"There's some kind of stacking curse woven into that lightning," George muttered. "You can really tell this was designed by an independent organiser. No half measures."
Morbid curiosity prickled in both of them.
What would happen when the curses finally triggered?
"Oh! I see our brooms!" Fred suddenly shouted. "Right there, by the dragon's feet! Brilliant, let's grab them!"
"Sure," George said. "And get stomped into jam the moment we do."
"Urgh… damn it, we only just started," Fred groaned.
For once, even the Weasley twins, kings of hare-brained schemes, were stumped.
"I… might have an idea," Harry said hesitantly.
He looked around at the other champions, all in equally dire straits, then clenched his jaw.
"We work with the other two schools," he said. "That's the idea."
On their own, they had no chance.
All of their strength would have to be combined.
Maybe that was what Ethan had intended all along.
Why else send every champion in at once?
Instinctively, Harry turned, wanting to catch a glimpse of Ethan's face.
But the wall of smoke between them was still too thick.
He could not see a thing.