The Philosopher's Stone lies ahead?
When did Dumbledore create another challenge? Was this still Hogwarts?
Quirrell's mind was filled with question marks. Regarding this sudden turn of events, he had a vague guess but instinctively wanted to deny it.
No... it's impossible... He'd already made it beneath the trapdoor. That naturally gifted little painter wouldn't still be pursuing him, would he?!
Go get the Philosopher's Stone... quickly!
His master's urging echoed in his mind.
Quirrell got up from the ground, looking at the dark interior beyond the gate, swallowing nervously. He cast a Protego charm on himself and gritted his teeth as he stepped inside.
It should be fine... this challenge should be as simple as the previous ones...
"Tap, tap..."
Footsteps echoed between the empty walls. The stone walls were damp and sticky, showing mottled yellow-brown stains that made one's imagination run wild about what might be on them.
Quirrell suppressed his nausea, surveying the grand but ancient décor around him, feeling slightly reassured.
There's no danger... Indeed, how could Hogwarts be as sinister as that brat?
Thinking this, Quirrell turned a corner...
Silver light flashed.
"Bang!"
"Gah!"
Quirrell jumped in fright, staring in shock at the living armor that suddenly burst out from behind the corner! A sharp sword struck his magical barrier. If he hadn't cast the Iron Armor Charm in advance, he would have been cut in half by now!
"Re-Reducto!"
"BOOM!"
A spell shot out, and the armor exploded into fragments, scattering everywhere.
"Huff, huff..."
Quirrell stared wide-eyed, not yet recovered from the shock. How could it suddenly jump out from behind the wall? Was it coincidence? Would brainless things like living armor stage ambushes?
Wait a minute...
When Quirrell dodged the fifth sudden ambush, he just wanted to curse!
What genius put guards behind walls?! So sneaky!
"Reducto... ah!"
Quirrell was about to eliminate the guard in front when he was hammered into the wall by a guard that had flanked him from behind! The terrain was a spiral staircase, with attacks from front and back. Quirrell had nowhere to dodge!
Damn it! What kind of twisted designer created this?!
"Damn it! Reducto! Reducto!"
Quirrell frantically fired spells, blasting those guards to pieces. Panting heavily, sweating profusely, covered in filth. The torment he'd endured in just ten minutes exceeded all the previous challenges combined!
There's open ground ahead!
Quirrell looked excitedly at the archway in front. It's almost over... just need to climb the stairs...
However, when Quirrell passed through the archway and the scene suddenly opened before him, his smile froze on his face.
Ahead was a narrow bridge that could only accommodate one person. Above it, three giant scythe blades swung at different frequencies. Below was a bottomless black abyss. The blades intersected, making chilling scraping sounds.
Quirrell exploded: "What kind of nightmare is this?!"
Hope shattered, and Quirrell completely lost it. He roared and cursed, painfully stomping his feet, clawing at his own face! He almost wanted to jump down directly and end this torment that seemed endless.
Hurry up... stop dawdling...
Voldemort's urging came at the perfect moment.
"Yes, yes, Master."
Quirrell gasped heavily, his face deathly pale, barely regaining his sanity. He looked at the intersecting swinging blades ahead, knowing these heavy giant blades could easily break through his defenses. Once struck, he would be cut in two.
"It's fine, just need to time it right and rush through, nothing difficult..."
Thinking this, Quirrell took a deep breath and carefully stepped onto the narrow bridge. Step by step, he moved toward the scythe blades, watching for the moment they swung past, then suddenly stepped forward...
"Whoosh!"
An arrow shot from the side! It struck Quirrell's barrier with a clang, immediately creating a crack in the shield!
"Gah?!"
Quirrell panicked, lost his footing, and fell heavily onto the bridge.
The next second...
"AHHHHHHH!"
Agonized screams echoed throughout the entire space! The scythe blade instantly broke through his defense, mercilessly slashing across Quirrell's back! Instantly, blood splattered. A wound deep to the bone stretched across his entire back!
"Ah, ahh..."
Quirrell struggled to crawl forward, not because he was particularly tenacious, but because if he didn't crawl, the blade would swing back and slash him again!
But the torment had just begun.
"Whoosh whoosh!"
Two arrows shot from both sides of the narrow bridge, precisely hitting Quirrell, whose defenses had been broken! Two sprays of blood erupted.
"Gurgh!"
Quirrell threw back his neck, veins bulging, his twisted expression showing pure agony. In his peripheral vision, he saw two guards on the left and right, aiming crossbows at him from the shadows.
"Protego!"
Between cursing and saving his life, Quirrell chose the latter.
"Clang clang!"
Arrows struck the barrier. Taking advantage of this gap, Quirrell hastily cast a healing spell on himself. Using both hands and feet, he struggled to crawl across the narrow bridge.
Have you ever fought desperately for something? Quirrell now had.
When passing through the final blade, Quirrell was almost moved to tears of joy and charged forward without looking. Then he crashed into something cold and hard with a bang.
In that instant, the string of reason in Quirrell's mind snapped.
"Ha, haha..."
Quirrell laughed tremblingly and madly, slowly raising his head. He met the gaze of the living armor guarding the front of the narrow bridge.
Living armor: Hello there.
"AHHHHHHH!"
After Quirrell experienced a series of exciting adventures, including swamp pits, corridors with rolling boulders, walls shooting arrows from both sides, guards dropping from ceilings, and so on, he finally reached the top of this ancient castle.
By then, Quirrell's robes hung on him like rags, his entire body bloodied and bruised, crisscrossed with newly healed scar tissue, not a patch of good skin remaining. Even his nose had been flattened by a giant stone. Only his cursed turban still stubbornly clung to his head.
"Huff, huff, huff..."
Standing at the tower top, breathing air mysteriously filled with sulfur, Quirrell's eyes were bloodshot. Finding this ancient castle's designer and tearing "him" to pieces... this was now the only belief supporting Quirrell.
Text identical to the entrance appeared on the ground:
Congratulations! You've successfully reached the second-to-last challenge!
This is your reward.
"Whine!"
The sound of a beast cub's roar came from a wooden crate. Quirrell looked inside and saw a pitch-black little dragon.
"Hehe..."
He suddenly grinned, raising his wand at the hatchling, his eyes full of mad and twisted malice. He wanted to torture it... its pleasant screams would be the best reward for himself...
Suddenly, the sky darkened. A massive shadow loomed overhead, and a smell mixing sulfur and rust assaulted his nostrils.
Quirrell slowly raised his head. He saw an adult dragon whose pupils had contracted to needle points. Its night-black scales and raised bone spikes identified it as a Norwegian Ridgeback.
And Quirrell instinctively knew... this was the same raging mother dragon that had inexplicably clawed him in the Forbidden Forest that night.
Crack.
His sanity shattered completely. Quirrell began trembling all over. An ugly, clown-like smile appeared on his face, and he could barely hold his wand.
"No... this is a misunderstanding... I didn't intend to do anything to that hatchling... no, no!"
"ROAR!"
An earth-shaking roar, accompanied by sweeping dragon flames, echoed throughout all of Sen Castle.
On the other side, in the Ravenclaw common room, Ethan nestled comfortably in the soft sofa. He looked up from his unfinished dragon painting, sensing something as he gazed toward the trapdoor's direction.
His cobalt-blue eyes sparkled in the firelight.
"It's about time for my entrance..."