"Swoosh!"
A rope wrapped around the top of a tall tree, its other end coiled around Anton's wrist.
Then, like a taut rubber band, the rope snapped back, flinging Anton into the sky.
"Swoosh!"
Another rope wrapped around another large tree.
Anton swung back and forth through the forest like this.
"Damn it!" Quirrell growled. "Can you be a little quieter? We can't attract anyone's attention right now!"
Several ropes slowly lowered Anton to mid-air, like a puppet hanging by its strings, dangling in front of Quirrell.
"I'm not proficient yet, I need to train hard, Professor."
The corner of Quirrell's mouth twitched. He really wanted to say, you're clearly just playing around. Hard work? I'll give you hard work my foot!
Sighing, he didn't know if finding Anton was a good or bad thing, but he had already given away the snuffbox and taught the spell. What else could he do!
"Keep it down!" Quirrell muttered, feeling a bit helpless.
The rope, holding Anton's right hand, stretched up and down, making a 'relax, relax' gesture.
"Swoosh!"
He swung out again.
"I regret this!" Quirrell let out a deep, somewhat desperate breath, his expression complicated. He not only regretted finding this troublesome kid, but he regretted even more going to Albania to find the Dark Lord.
He originally had a promising future. He was a young teacher at Hogwarts, Dumbledore admired him and was even planning to promote him to a full professor.
Everything...
There was no going back.
Now he had no way out. A cliff was at his back. He either had to charge forward head-on, or die.
There was no choice!
"Listen, I need the blood of magical creatures. If it really comes to it, I'll also need unicorn blood. Understand? Keep an eye out for any signs of unicorns!"
Unless it was the most urgent moment, he absolutely did not want to drink unicorn blood.
He knew that by drinking unicorn blood, he would have the power to barge all the way to the deepest part of the Philosopher's Stone's chamber.
But that thing carried a curse, a curse that not even the Dark Lord could break!
He was willing to give everything for the Dark Lord's revival, but he also wanted to stay alive to enjoy the power and influence after the Dark Lord's return!
If he died, what did the Dark Lord's return have to do with him!
A sigh...
"Listen, you absolutely must not touch any magical creature with a danger rating of 5X. If you see one, get far away!" Quirrell's expression was extremely serious. "5X magical creatures are beings that can easily kill humans and are impossible to domesticate or tame. This is no joke. I don't want any accidents."
Anton nodded, "I'm just here to be your lookout, not to risk my life. I get it."
"..."
Although this young wizard seemed to be listening to his advice, why did he feel so annoyed?
After entering the Forbidden Forest, Quirrell was clearly more nervous than Anton. The professor, whose mental fortitude wasn't great, crouched low, holding his wand, ready to enter a combat state at any moment.
He muttered incessantly, "Magic is truly hard to comprehend with common sense. Young wizards are as dangerous as adult wizards. A XXX Red Cap can sometimes be as lethal as a 5X dragon. You can't let your guard down just because of some so-called danger rating."
"For example, the 4X Runespoor. That's the monster I fear the most."
Quirrell's expression was one of utter disgust. "Someone once threw one into my dormitory to scare me..."
The professor, who usually pretended to stutter, no longer needed to act in front of Anton, chattering on and on like a total motormouth.
"Damn it, that thing is so disgusting!"
"Three heads!"
"I've never seen anything so disgusting! More disgusting than a three-headed dog!"
"Just having its cold, clammy scales scrape across your neck, oh~" Quirrell shivered, as if recalling something unpleasant.
"It's all Newt's fault! Yes, the author of your Fantastic Beasts textbook. That man released many of the animals he raised into the Hogwarts Forbidden Forest!" Quirrell's face twisted, his tone strange. "Releasing them, what a ridiculous thing to do. He has no idea how terrifying that super-giant Runespoor he raised is!"
"That snake has produced so many offspring, damn it, they're about to fill up the entire Forbidden Forest."
"Only Dark Wizards would like Runespoors!"
"The way I see it, Newt is a Dark Wizard, otherwise how could he have been expelled from school!"
Then, he said with a comical expression, "Thankfully, that Runespoor, which is comparable to a dragon, and its offspring were placed in the farthest area by Hagrid. After all, it was already affecting the centaurs' survival, wasn't it?"
Just then, Anton was lowered by the ropes behind him.
His tone was eerie, "The giant Runespoor you're talking about, does it look a lot like a viper, with three heads, a white body covered in a layer of orange-red scales similar to a dragon's, and a mouth so big it could swallow the Knight Bus when it opens it?"
Seeing that Anton had finally quieted down, Quirrell breathed a sigh of relief, turned to look at him, and said with a smile, "Yes, I suspect that one can no longer be classified as a 4X danger level. Its body is enormous, its strength is immense, and its fangs are highly venomous."
Anton's lips twitched. "The professor is truly knowledgeable, huh."
Quirrell looked at Anton's strange expression, frowned, and as if realizing something, he whipped his head around to look in the direction of Anton's gaze.
He instantly sucked in a cold breath.
A Runespoor!
And not a normal adult six-to-seven-foot-long Runespoor, but Newt's one!
Its massive body was hidden in the darkness, making it impossible to see its actual size.
This enormous magical creature's three heads slithered out from a dark corner of the forest, its cold, vertical pupils staring at him icily.
"We... we... need to be careful!"
He seemed to have reverted to his stuttering state, gripping his wand tightly. "Don't point your wand... at it. These creatures... they aren't particularly vicious... I mean, face it, back away slowly, and don't show any hostility!"
Quirrell swallowed hard and turned his head seriously. "Don't show any hostility, they won't attack people on their own!"
But he saw Anton decisively pull a broomstick out of the snuffbox.
He swung his leg over and mounted it.
Woohoo~ Takeoff~
Swoosh!
He shot up into the sky.
"!!!"
"Shit!" Quirrell was stunned!
Only then did he realize what kind of an advantage having a broomstick was in the dangerous Forbidden Forest.
It was practically a divine artifact!
The only problem was—why wasn't he the one sitting on the broomstick?
Moreover, if he remembered correctly, that broomstick was his broomstick!
The broomstick that had been with him through thick and thin for so many years, holding countless sad and beautiful memories!
This was simply a tragic story. Anton took his snuffbox, pulled out his old broomstick that originally belonged to him, and then ran off by himself?
I'm not on it yet!
I'm not on it yet!!!
Did you hear me!!!!
But there was no time for him to think about it anymore.