The splashing sound of wooden oars moving through water echoed as Newt and Long Jiu slowly rowed their canoe to the bank.
Before the boat even came to a complete stop, Newt called out anxiously, “Frey! Are you alright?”
Frey was slumping against a few giant boulders, fussing with Little Specs in his hands.
His voice was raspy, as though scraped with sandpaper:
“Much better, Grandfather. It’s just that my head feels like it’s going to explode, like a troll is doing a tap dance inside.”
Hermione asked softly, “Should we bring Schnoz out to help relieve it? Didn’t it eat your nightmare last time?”
Newt walked over from the water’s edge.
“It won’t work. Unless we find another Dream-Eating Tapir, Schnoz won’t be able to stomach any more nightmares for a month. Besides, this isn’t a nightmare. Hermione, are you alright? Why don’t you go to the bag and change your clothes? While you’re at it, grab him some water. His throat sounds like he just swallowed a Fire Slug.”
Hermione nodded and turned to walk toward the backpack.
Long Jiu stared at Frey for a moment before suddenly speaking up:
“You were terrifying just now. I thought you were about to turn.”
“Turn?” Frey pressed his temples, looking up in confusion.
“You said your mentor…”
“Yes. That is the ultimate fate of us Maledictuses. Just now… you were like a beast wearing human skin. If Hermione hadn’t pulled you back, I might have considered driving a throwing knife through your throat.”
Frey pulled his head back, shaken.
“I don’t even know what happened…”
Newt squatted down and lowered his voice.
“Frey, tell me honestly. When you were fighting the Phantasmal Python, did you feel some kind of barrier inside you shatter?”
Frey blinked in surprise.
“A Phantasmal Python… so that snake was a Phantasmal Python. Grandfather, Class XXXXX beasts really are no joke. You’re right—at the time, I felt an uncontainable fire surging in my chest. Not just fire, but lightning too, as if something had been forcibly broken through.”
Newt let out a long sigh.
“Being able to control lightning means you’ve reached adulthood. When an Icelandic Blue-Ridge nears maturity and faces a life-or-death crisis, it will forcibly break through to survive. The good news is that for a while, your dragon form won’t undergo further changes. Once you adapt to this level of power, transforming will be as easy as putting on clothes. But the bad news…”
Newt pointed grimly at the space between Frey’s eyebrows.
“Be careful not to let the dragon’s hormones control you. Very few people realize that an Animagus is actually influenced by the physiological reactions of its animal form. The physical feedback from ordinary cats or dogs is negligible to a wizard, but a dragon’s body is far too powerful. Dragons are greedy, lustful, and quick to rage. If your willpower can’t overpower it, you’ll eventually become it. Frey, lately, have shiny gold coins been looking better to you than spellbooks? Have you been staring at pretty girls longer than at broomsticks?”
Frey laughed bitterly.
“I get the theory, but how am I supposed to adapt to this? My head hurts so bad I want to cast a Freezing Charm right on my forehead.”
“There’s no shortcut. The volume of sensory information transmitted through dragon nerves is far too immense for you—it’s like shoving a sperm whale down a narrow water pipe. You can only adapt step by step. Until you do, try to avoid long or frequent transformations. Once term starts, you’ll be going to Hogwarts. You must study Potions carefully; there are many potions that can help you adapt faster.”
“Is that snake dead?” Frey forced himself to switch the subject.
“No,” Long Jiu said coldly.
“It shed its skin. Sacrificed part of its flesh and fled.”
“Then we have to find a way to kill it. Its target is Little Specs. If we don’t finish it off, it’ll attack us again.”
She had changed into an oversized hoodie printed with the Tottenham Hotspur logo—Frey’s favorite football club—that was long enough to cover her shorts.
Its high collar hid the injury on her shoulder, but it couldn’t conceal the exhaustion on her face.
She handed the water to Frey.
The moment she raised her wrist, Frey’s gaze froze.
On Hermione’s fair, slender wrist, a bruised purple ring of finger marks was plainly visible—a trophy from his violent madness earlier.
Frey reached out for the cup, but as his fingertips brushed Hermione’s hand, he recoiled as if shocked.
He wanted to apologize, but an overwhelming surge of guilt stuck in his throat, making any words feel hollow and cheap.
Hermione noticed his stare and subtly pulled down her sleeve, hiding the bruise back in the shadows.
Then, without hesitation, she pulled Frey’s hand forward and pressed the cup into his palm.
“Why did it try to catch Little Specs?” Hermione asked.
“Mimicry enhancement,” Newt chimed in.
“A Phantasmal Python can evolve its own mimicry ability by hunting other mimic creatures. This power can even remain in their shed skins, which can mask all traces of magic. Phantasmal Python skins command an astronomical price on the black market, which is one reason why they’re endangered today.”
“What about the skin from earlier?” Frey asked.
Long Jiu scoffed.
“Forget it. That dragon reduced it to cinders in a single breath.”
Suddenly, the sound of trees snapping on a massive scale echoed from the forest across the shore.
Rainforest trees centuries old were being flattened in swathes like mere weeds, startling huge flocks of birds into the sky.
Newt spoke gravely, “Hey, listen. We’ve got big trouble. Long Jiu and I went to check earlier—the big guy behind the stone wall woke up. It’s a Class XXXXX Moonlight Glyptodon. It seems to have been enraged by the battle between the Phantasmal Python and the Blue-Ridge. Unfortunately, it’s heading straight toward Iquitos.”
Hermione turned pale.
“A Phantasmal Python, a Moonlight Glyptodon… Did we stumble into a nest of Class XXXXX beasts? Wait, what about the Icelandic Blue-Ridge?”
Without so much as a blush or a skip of her heart, Long Jiu told a monstrous lie: “Strangled by the Phantasmal Python and dragged into a deep pit. It’s probably been dissolved into a puddle of acid by now.”
Hermione let out a regretful sigh.
“What a pity. That was a breed never seen in South America before.”
“Never mind the dragon for now,” Newt interrupted.
“The Moonlight Glyptodon’s entire body is covered in a mirror-like carapace that reflects spells. Aside from Long Jiu’s sabertooth form, none of us can harm it right now. It’s an unstoppable biological bulldozer. If it smashes into the Muggle settlements of Iquitos, it’ll be a slaughter.”
“Do you have a plan?” Frey downed the last gulp of water, his eyes growing focused.
“We need to lure the Phantasmal Python and the Glyptodon together. Two apex predators can’t share one territory. Once they meet, they’ll fight to the death. While they’re injured, we can see if we can capture one, and relocate the other inside this valley. That will keep Iquitos safe for the time being.”
Hermione asked, “How do we lure them? The Phantasmal Python was spooked—it must be hiding.”
“The Glyptodon is easy,” Newt analyzed. Follow the newest chapters on g.com.
“Right now, it’s a walking powder keg that attacks anything on sight. We just need to hit it hard. As for the Phantasmal Python, its mimic skin was ruined by the dragon, so it can’t turn invisible for a while. Its instincts will drive it to hunt prey that can replenish its mimicry abilities—like this Mimic Pygmy Marmoset. As long as we parade it around the python enough times, the serpent won’t be able to resist.”
Long Jiu threw up her hands.
“Now we urgently need to find a fast escape route. If we get trapped between two giant beasts, we’re dead.”
Little Specs suddenly leaped down from Frey’s head, squeaking anxiously.
It reached out its tiny hands, pulling forcefully on Hermione’s clothes toward the lakeside.
“Where is it taking me?” Hermione asked, startled.
“Mimic Pygmy Marmosets are timid creatures. If you have the energy, go with it; nothing bad will happen,” Newt said, his eyes lighting up.
“I’ll go with you. There might be something there it thinks will be useful to us.”
“I’m coming too.”
Frey tried to stand up, but Long Jiu held him down firmly.
“In your current state, you couldn’t even beat an ordinary beast,” Long Jiu said coldly.
“Stay here and recover. When it comes time to lure the beasts, it’ll have to be the two of us. Or do you have the heart to let Hermione or the old gentleman take that risk?”
Long Jiu lowered her voice: “While luring them, if we can’t find a reliable escape route, you’ll have to force a transformation and escape from the sky. If you fly fast enough, the Phantasmal Python will only get one shot at you—you’ll have a chance to dodge. And the Moonlight Glyptodon can’t attack airborne targets, so you’re guaranteed to get away.”
“I can’t leave you behind alone.”
“It’s better than both of us dying here.”
Frey lay back down on the grass.
“Can’t we just not go? We came here to explore. How did this turn into saving the world?”
Long Jiu sat on a stone beside him.
“Go tell your grandfather that. I don’t care either way—I’m just risking my neck for pay. Though I have to say, your family’s money is damn hard to earn. Oh, right, when we were coming back, the old gentleman said if you had doubts, I should tell you that capturing either the Phantasmal Python or the Glyptodon would be a huge payoff.”
“Ha, Grandfather really knows me,” Frey said with a chuckle, shifting into a more comfortable position.
Looking up at Long Jiu, he asked, “Why did the sandalwood scent on you disappear?”
She touched her neck and glanced at Frey.
“That sandalwood incense was something I burned to slow down the blood curse. I stopped burning it. With your blood, it’s useless to me now.”
Frey pulled out the anonymous letter he had received in Quito from his robes.
“Does anyone in your Nine Dragons Society burn sage? Was this letter written by your group?”
“The Nine Dragons Society only cares about gold coins. As long as it doesn’t get in the way of making money, they don’t even care if subordinates moonlight for other organizations. This kind of mysterious warning letter sounds more like something written by those lunatics who want to drag the world back into the Middle Ages. Besides, sage is commonly burned by Native Americans in North America. Frey, the most dangerous thing in the jungle is always humans, not magical beasts.”
Long Jiu gave Frey’s shoulder a final pat.
“Treat Hermione well. For a girl to treat you like that, she really put everything on the line.”
“She and I aren’t…”
“Don’t bother explaining, Yang Zongbao. That hoodie is yours—I’m not blind. Or do you think Hermione is the kind of girl who’s easy with anyone?”