Maca turned around, only to find a scarlet-eyed Harry.
At this moment, Harry exuded a fierce aura, wielding the Gryffindor sword with an odd posture as he rushed straight towards the Blast-Ended Skrewt, barely brushing past Maca.
"What's going on?" Maca couldn't help but furrow his brow.
The Blast-Ended Skrewt opened its gaping maw once more, spewing forth flames directly at Harry. Unexpectedly, Harry didn't dodge or evade; he raised the sword abruptly, shattering the flames.
Maca noticed that at the moment Harry raised the sword, there seemed to be a flash of golden light on the blade. If he hadn't been watching closely, he might not have noticed this detail.
"Hmm?"
He was about to casually comment on Gryffindor's bias when he inadvertently noticed another abnormality—the eyes of the Blast-Ended Skrewt also seemed off.
"That's... dark magic?"
...
While Harry was engaged in a thrilling battle with the Blast-Ended Skrewt, there was a commotion in the VIP box.
"Dumbledore, just now..."
Fleur Delacour, who had been patrolling outside, suddenly rushed to the VIP box and whispered something to Dumbledore. Dumbledore's expression remained calm, but the sharp eyes concealed behind his glasses hinted that things were not as simple as they seemed.
After a moment of thought, he nodded.
"Sorry, I have an urgent matter to attend to. I'll be back as soon as possible," Dumbledore said to the other members of the judging panel sitting on either side of him.
As if to confirm his words, just as he finished speaking, a green light shot up into the sky from the direction of the school gates. In the blink of an eye, the green light reached its peak and exploded, capturing the attention of the audience.
As a dark green mist spread, a colossal skull appeared in the sky. From the mouth of the skull emerged a winding green serpent, as if mocking everything at Hogwarts.
"The Dark Mark!"
Someone shouted, and panic spread like a plague.
"Stay calm!" Dumbledore boomed, not even needing a Sonorus Charm to make his voice reach everyone's ears. This moment revealed his status as the "Greatest Wizard of the Age." Almost everyone immediately quieted down, their eyes turning to Dumbledore's tall and imposing figure.
This white-haired, wrinkled old man was always a pillar of strength for everyone. As long as he was alive, it meant that hope had not abandoned them—everyone believed this.
"Heads of Houses, lead your students back to the castle, and no one is allowed to go outside," he calmly issued the command. "Madam Maxime, Professor Ollivander, please escort your students to the castle as well. Mr. Bagman, please go with them."
"But... what about the champions inside the maze?" Professor Ollivander suddenly spoke.
Fleur had already withdrawn from the maze, but Maca was still in there. As the head of Durmstrang, he had to be concerned, even though he didn't believe Maca would be in any danger.
"I will temporarily close the exit of the maze," Dumbledore glanced at the maze below and said calmly. "Staying inside may be safer for them..."
Since Dumbledore had spoken, Professor Ollivander didn't argue further. He nodded and gathered the Durmstrang students, following Beauxbatons' group as they left.
After arranging the current situation, Dumbledore hurriedly made his way toward the school gates.
...
Unbeknownst to Harry, who was currently battling the Blast-Ended Skrewt, the once bustling spectator stands were now completely empty.
Of course, in his current state, even if Lord Voldemort were standing right in front of him, he might not recognize him.
At this moment, Harry once again found himself in that peculiar state.
Perhaps it was the fault of the Gryffindor sword itself, or maybe there were other incentives at play... In any case, he now resembled a wild beast that only understood combat. In his heart, a raging flame burned, a flame of anger that wanted to consume everything.
Wielding the gleaming Gryffindor sword, he sped toward the Blast-Ended Skrewt. Whenever flames approached, he swung his sword, and the powerful flames of the Blast-Ended Skrewt were immediately scattered by the blade.
This unwavering and fearless momentum was something that would never be seen in the usual Harry.
As Harry approached within a certain range, the Blast-Ended Skrewt spewed out another burst of flames, attempting to stop Harry's relentless approach.
However, this nearly unbeatable move had lost its intended effect under Harry's sword.
Harry held the sword with both hands, raising it above his head, and then brought it down straight towards the ground. In an instant, the towering wall of flames was effortlessly torn apart.
With determination, he took another step forward and, in a swift motion, swung the sword backward, aiming for the Blast-Ended Skrewt's throat.
The Blast-Ended Skrewt, sensing the power of the Gryffindor sword, immediately raised its upper body, evading the fatal strike.
At the same time, it raised its lion paw and struck down with great force; if it hit, Harry would not have survived.
But at this point, Harry was far from showing any panic in such a situation. In his heart, there were no other emotions, only a nearly frenzied battle spirit.
"Charge!"
He took a slight step to the left and swung the sword again. With a light "swish" sound, the Blast-Ended Skrewt screamed, but it only further incited its ferocity—its front paw had been sliced in half.
"Roar!"
The Blast-Ended Skrewt roared and suddenly turned, its dragon tail striking towards Harry at lightning speed. The force was so great that it even produced a sonic boom.
Harry, trapped in a state of extreme battle frenzy, combined with the tremendous power of the Gryffindor sword, had managed to battle up to this point.
But this lightning-fast attack that exceeded his reaction capabilities was something he couldn't handle. He was about to be hit squarely by the rapidly approaching dragon tail.
"Invisible Fencer! Maximize!"
Maca, quick-witted, raised his wand, and an invisible magical blade seemed to slice through space. Almost as soon as he raised his wand, the Blast-Ended Skrewt's tail snapped from its base, just grazing Harry's cheek.
In fact, Maca's spell wasn't that powerful; at most, he had only cut off a small portion. The reason the Blast-Ended Skrewt's tail had broken so cleanly was partly due to its own actions.
If it hadn't swung so vigorously, it wouldn't have snapped like that. Even though Maca had pushed the spell to its limit, it wouldn't have caused such significant damage on its own.
With another howl, the Blast-Ended Skrewt retreated repeatedly—it clearly wanted to escape.
However, moving with a severed tail was not that easy! It stumbled back a few steps and then crashed to the ground—it had temporarily lost the ability to control its balance.
Harry wouldn't miss such a good opportunity! He quickly closed in, aiming his sword at the descending neck of the Blast-Ended Skrewt.
"Roar!"
A dying Blast-Ended Skrewt was no joke. While Maca ran forward, he quickly waved his wand. Suddenly, Harry was thrown back as if someone had grabbed his collar.
The next second, the massive claw of the Blast-Ended Skrewt swept horizontally, its force so great that it even scraped off a layer of the hard stone floor.
For a moment, rubble flew everywhere, and Maca had to use a barrier spell to block them.
"No—"
Just as Maca was about to deliver the final blow to the dying Blast-Ended Skrewt, he heard Hermione's scream. He didn't understand why she was screaming, and he didn't understand why she was screaming so heartrendingly.
But the next moment, when a burst of crimson blood passed over his shoulder and splattered on his cheek...
He seemed to understand, yet became even more bewildered.
Whose blood was this? He didn't know because it certainly wasn't his... Whose could it be?
Maca turned his tense face, and suddenly, a dazzling golden light occupied his entire field of vision. Following closely was a soft body that collided heavily with him.
Maca could hardly maintain his balance and was knocked down onto the cold ground.
It was a familiar yet unfamiliar scent, strange yet nostalgic—it was a blend of gillyweed and spices. He felt that his entire nasal cavity was filled with this peculiar fragrance.
"Luna?"
Maca froze for a moment; he almost instinctively hugged the delicate body in his arms. The next second, he keenly sensed that there was a damp sensation on the palm of his hand.
Just then, a flash of white light passed before his eyes.
In a reflexive motion, he raised his right hand, which had been gripping his wand all along. With a straightened wand and a flash of fire, it seemed like something had been sent flying.
But Maca didn't have the mood to think about it anymore; he had already understood everything that had just happened.
"Luna..." He repeated the name, his voice unusually low.
As if suddenly remembering something, he reached toward his waist with a trembling hand.
Trembling, he took out a vial of potion and forcefully poured it into the girl's mouth in front of him.
"Luna... Luna... Luna..."
While waiting for the potion to take effect, he just tightly held Luna in his arms, and everything around him seemed to lose its meaning.
"...Luna."
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