0437 Their Duel (Part-1)

The crushing pressure descended like a tidal wave, its invisible weight bearing down on the Quidditch pitch with an almost palpable force. The spectators who hadn’t yet managed to evacuate felt their breath catch in their throats, their faces draining of color as if all the blood had suddenly rushed from their heads.

In their dazed state, it seemed as though a colossal, prehistoric dragon had emerged from the roiling clouds above, its massive, scaled head filling the entirety of the sky. The imaginary beast’s presence was so overwhelming that many swore they could hear its thunderous roar echoing across the heavens, making the tiny human figures below feel utterly insignificant in comparison.

“Bryan!”

As that powerful voice reverberated through the air, Sirius felt an instantaneous change wash over him. The tension that had been coiled tightly in every fiber of his being suddenly relaxed, as if a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders. An indescribable sense of relief flooded through him.

For what felt like an eternity, Sirius had been facing down several dark wizards of unknown origin and immense power, completely alone. The safety of all the children – not just Harry, but every young witch and wizard present – had rested on his shoulders, a burden so immense it had almost crushed him.

Harry, Ron, and the others likewise broke into expressions of wild joy. Hermione and Ginny even covered their mouths, sobbing with happiness.

A piercing whoosh followed, cutting through the air with a sound like that of a Muggle jet plane streaking across the sky at full throttle. Though the familiar figure they all longed to see had not yet appeared, the sharp whistle of his approach already exerted a mountain-like pressure on the two wizards standing opposite the group.

“Bryan Watson!” Melanov’s voice sounded as if it was being forcibly squeezed from her throat. At this moment, she finally stopped hesitating. Taking advantage of Sirius and Mr. Weasley’s momentary distraction, she turned and made a desperate dash towards the gaping hole that had been blasted in the box wall earlier. But she had barely taken two frantic steps when a point of brilliant golden fire materialized in the boundless darkness beyond the opening, instantly traversing the vast distance.

Clang!

The sound rang out as a flaming spear embedded itself in the ground directly in front of Melanov. If she hadn’t instinctively sidestepped at the very last instant it would have impaled her chest, ending her life in a heartbeat. But before the fleeting spark of relief could even begin to fade from her wide, startled eyes, the spear stuck in the ground began to vibrate. In an instant, it lost its solid form, softening and splitting into multiple strands of golden fire. Before Melanov could react, a golden cocoon of fire had completely enveloped her!

‘How could Bryan Watson possibly be here?’

Cliodna had been monitoring Harry all day, confirming that Bryan Watson wasn’t with Sirius’s group. Combined with this sudden chaos, she wouldn’t have acted otherwise.

Now, however, it was pointless to dwell on Watson’s unexpected appearance. The urgent matter was to escape first!

Glancing once more at Harry, who stood so close by, regret flashed across Cliodna’s green eyes. In the next instant, her body’s outline began to blur and distort. Like a meteor streaking across the night sky, trailing a luminous tail of vivid green energy, she shot upward from the top box of the Quidditch stadium towards the now-seething night sky!

Boom!

A sound like the ringing of a colossal bell reverberated through the night air. Like a massive boulder thrown into a lake, a tangible shockwave swept outward with devastating force, rippling through the air in all directions. As it passed through the green meteor trail left by Cliodna, the emerald energy instantly dissipated.

Cliodna, her escape thwarted, was forced to reveal her true form in midair. She plummeted falling nearly half a mile towards the ground before finally managing to steady herself. When at last she regained control, she found herself hovering at the same height as the towering goal hoops used by the Irish team during the match.

As Cliodna straightened up, her eyes widening in a mixture of resignation and steely resolve, she saw that a solemn-faced young man was already standing on top of the goal hoop on the opposite side of the pitch, smiling as he looked at her.

“It’s been a long time, Mr. Watson—” Cliodna’s melodious voice carried across the vast expanse between them, tinged with a note of melancholy. Her skirts fluttered in the magical currents that swirled around her, and her beautiful face was etched with a faint but unmistakable gloom. Abandoning any last, desperate hope of luck, she sighed softly and nodded towards Bryan.

Bryan’s gaze swept over the chaotic scene unfolding on the pitch far below. Tens of thousands of spectators who hadn’t yet managed to evacuate had stopped in their tracks. They were staring up at the sky in shock, whispering to their companions.

“Bryan!” Sirius’s voice cut through the noise. He rushed to the box railing, leaning out as far as he dared, he shouted up at the young wizard standing on top of the goal hoop, whose mere presence seemed to radiate a heavy, oppressive pressure that blanketed a vast area.

“This woman,” Sirius continued, his voice hoarse with exhaustion and barely contained fury, “she tried to kidnap Harry!”

Bryan didn’t turn to face Sirius, acknowledging the urgent message with only a slight nod of his head, as if not particularly surprised. In reality, though, he was quite shocked to see Cliodna here.

Ever since learning from Fawley about Lucius’s grandiose prank planned for tonight, Bryan hadn’t wasted a single moment. He had apparated directly to a nearby area he was familiar with. From there, he had flown at breakneck speed, covering the remaining distance to the vicinity of the campsite. The magical reaction he sensed upon barging into the scene was so intense, that for a fleeting moment, Bryan wondered if he must be hallucinating.

“It’s been a while Miss Cliodna—” Bryan’s voice was calm as he inclined his head slightly wearing a gentlemanly smile. “Since our hasty parting last time, I’ve been hoping for an opportunity to see you again. I searched in vain for quite some time, never expecting to encounter you in a place like this, under such… unusual circumstances. What a delightful coincidence, wouldn’t you agree?”

Down below, Ron’s eyes were as wide as saucers, his freckled face was filled with confusion as he struggled to make sense of the bizarre scene unfolding above them. “What in Merlin’s name is going on?!” he exclaimed, his voice cracking slightly. “This woman… is she some kind of friend of Professor Watson’s?”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake, Ron!” Hermione snapped, her patience wearing thin in the face of their dire situation. “Use that brain of yours for once! Does this look like a friendly reunion to you?”

“I’m afraid I know about as much as you do, Mr. Watson—”

Now regretting tonight’s actions was useless. Cliodna had regained her composure, staring at Bryan. Her voice returned to its usual unruffled state.

“I regret that I cannot provide answers to any of your questions, regardless of how much you might desire them.”

“I’m afraid that answer simply won’t suffice, Miss Cliodna—” Bryan’s expression cooled noticeably. He merely flexed his wrist, and the cool evening air of mid-to-late August instantly became scorching hot. It was as if a huge furnace had appeared above the Quidditch pitch, baking everything around it. Bryan glanced again at the wizards watching the spectacle.

“As you may or may not be aware, I am currently employed at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Given the gravity of our current situation, might I have the honor of extending an invitation for you to visit the school? I believe we have much to discuss, and Hogwarts would provide an… appropriate setting for such a conversation.”

“I doubt there’s anyone in this world who could face both you and Albus Dumbledore at the same time—”

The scorching wind ruffled Cliodna’s green hair. This Druid priestess, whose face looked even younger than Bryan’s, pulled her lips into a bitter smile.

She paused for a moment, seeming to weigh her words carefully before continuing.

“I understand your anger, Mr. Watson, And I recognize the depth of your determination to resolve the questions that must be plaguing you. But I truly cannot provide you with the answers you seek, no matter how much you might wish it otherwise. I offer my sincerest apologies for the… unpleasantness that transpired before. However,” her eyes hardened, a steely resolve settling over her delicate features, “if you insist on attempting to detain me here, I’m afraid I’ll have no choice but to tender yet another apology.”

Bryan, for his part, hadn’t really expected Cliodna to surrender without putting up a fight. His primary concern throughout this tense standoff had been for the lives of the remaining unevacuated wizards scattered throughout the Quidditch stadium. However, Cliodna proved far more decisive – and far more reckless – than he had imagined.

After confirming that she couldn’t hope to leave smoothly, her eyes suddenly became resolute. In a move that caught even Bryan off-guard, She leapt from the top of the goal hoop and, amid the gasps of countless watching wizards, let her body fall freely towards the ground. At the same time, she hurled her grapevine wand towards the earth!

Boom! Boom! Boom!

Lightning suddenly flashed across the cloudless night sky. Dazzling, deafening bolts of lightning split the dark sky, striking towards the Quidditch pitch.

The moment Cliodna’s grapevine staff sank into the pitch, an astounding transformation began. The emerald grass suddenly sprang to life. It began to grow at an impossible rate, stretching upwards with such speed that the human eye could scarcely track its progress. In the space of a few heartbeats, the once-clear pitch had been wholly consumed, replaced by an undulating ‘jungle’ of towering grasses and creeping vines that seemed to possess a will of their own.

Rumble—

A low, ominous rumble began to build from deep within the earth, growing in intensity with each passing second. The ground beneath their feet began to shake violently, the tremors growing stronger and more erratic with each passing moment.

The Quidditch stadium, its very foundations rocked by the unnatural quake, began to tremble fiercely. From high above, a rain of destruction began to fall. Broken slabs of stone, splintered wooden seats, and great sheets of roofing material rained down like a torrential downpour, showering the terrified spectators below. Panicked cries filled the air as people scrambled for cover, their hands raised futilely above their heads in a desperate attempt to ward off the deadly hail.

Sirius, still pressed against the railing, was so shocked his eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets. From the now-unrecognizable grass field below, an enormous green vine suddenly burst forth from the earth. It grew larger with each passing second, swelling and stretching as if devouring some unseen magical energy. This verdant monstrosity expanded at an alarming rate, quickly dwarfing everything around it. In a matter of moments, it had grown to truly colossal proportions, its girth ten times thicker than the Whomping Willow on the edge of the Hogwarts grounds!

As the onlookers watched in stunned silence, the vine’s rapid growth showed no signs of slowing. When it had reached a height, the main stem began to undergo a startling transformation. With a series of sickening cracks that echoed across the stadium, the massive trunk began to split. What had been a single column of massive trunk suddenly became two, then four, the process of division accelerated with each passing second. In the blink of an eye, a wriggling forest of thick vines had sprung to life, thick vines swaying at their ends as they filled the vast expanse of the Quidditch pitch.

“I must be dreaming…” Mr. Weasley’s voice was barely more than a whisper, his eyes were wide with a mixture of awe and terror, unable to tear his gaze away from the impossible scene unfolding before him.

The young wizards huddled in the box – every single one of them, including the Genius Seeker Viktor Krum, who hadn’t even had a chance to properly introduce himself to Hermione – were frozen in place as if struck by a particularly powerful Petrification Charm. They stood motionless, their jaws slack and eyes wide, unable to do anything but stare at the enormous vines that now dominated the landscape of the pitch.

With each sweeping movement, the colossal plants stirred up howling gales strong enough to uproot trees. The psychological pressure exerted by this display of raw, unbridled magical power was almost palpable.

From the bottom of the stadium, a wave of distressed cries rose up, cutting through the noise of destruction. The spectators who had lingered too long, their curiosity overriding their sense of self-preservation, now found themselves in mortal danger. As the reality of their situation finally sank in, panic took hold. The crowd surged towards the exits in a frenzied stampede, all thoughts of civility or orderly evacuation were long forgotten. In the chaos that ensued, wails of those trampled underfoot mingled with desperate cries for lost loved ones and angry shouts of those fighting to clear a path to safety. The once-festive atmosphere of the Quidditch World Cup had devolved into a nightmarish scene of terror and confusion.

“We can’t stay here any longer!” Sirius’s voice cut through the pandemonium, sharp with urgency. Having witnessed Bryan’s grand displays of power before, he was perhaps better prepared than most to grasp the true gravity of their situation. His eyes, wild with a mixture of fear and determination, swept over every wizard in the box who still drew breath. “Hurry!” he growled, his tone brooking no argument. “We need to get downstairs immediately! Staying here is nothing short of a death sentence!”

As Sirius herded the shell-shocked group towards the exit, Mr. Weasley took charge of moving the children. With more strength than his usually amiable demeanor might suggest, he roughly pushed Harry, Ron, Hermione, and the others out of the box. But just as he was about to follow them, a sudden realization stopped him in his tracks.

“Wait!” he called out, causing Sirius to turn around with a look of exasperation. “What about this one?” Mr. Weasley jerked his head towards Melanov, still trapped within the shimmering cage of magical fire.

Despite the urgency of their situation, Mr. Weasley’s keen mind hadn’t lost sight of the bigger picture. Judging by Melanov’s distinctive attire, she was clearly an accomplice of the mysterious group that had launched the attack earlier. If they could somehow take her with them, there was a chance they might be able to extract valuable information.

The previous battle had taken a severe toll on Sirius. His body was full of injuries, with blood seeping from numerous wounds and staining his once-fine robes a deep crimson. The effort of simply remaining upright was clearly taxing him to his limits. Yet, as he turned his gaze upon Melanov, his grey eyes blazed with a mixture of disgust and determination.

Finally, with a grimace of pain and effort, Sirius raised his wand. With a complex series of gestures, he manipulated the floor beneath Melanov to separate and carry her out of the box.

Whoosh!

High above the mayhem, Bryan remained calm amidst the storm. Each swing of the colossal, swaying vines stirred up gales of such ferocity that they could have easily blown away boulders on flat ground. Yet Bryan stood firm on top of the goal hoop with only his hair whipping wildly in the fierce wind.

Cliodna, standing at one of the massive vines she had conjured, had still not launched an attack, and the stern-faced Bryan likewise showed great restraint. They were both waiting.

Finally, when the group from the highest box had also went down to the ground floor and rushed into the tunnel with the last of the fleeing crowd, Bryan made a move. He twisted his neck, producing a series of crackling sounds.

“Interesting—”

Bryan’s expressionless face lifted slightly at the corners, a faint smile tinged with bloodthirst.

“The Birth of the Tree World, is it?” His soft chant was almost immediately swallowed by the raging wind that howled around them.

For the briefest of moments, all was still. It was as if the entire world held its breath, waiting to see what would happen next. Then, in the space between one heartbeat and the next, everything changed.

Beneath the inky canvas of the night sky, a blazing sun began to rise.

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Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep