Their adrenaline settling, the canoe glided smoothly through the evening breeze.
“Look, there’s a pink cloud over there!” Hermione gripped the side of the boat tightly, pointing into the distance with awe.
Frey followed her gaze.
Above the dark green rainforest, a brilliant pink cloud indeed floated, shimmering with a neon-like fluorescent glow against the pitch-black night sky.
Newt stared at the magnificent sight, mesmerized.
“Those are butterflies. Billions of them. In the Amazon, clouds can be any color. Red, green, rainbow-colored—they are all the migration paths of insects or birds. Every time I see this kind of natural grandeur, I realize how small humans truly are.”
“Down here, you can even see fish swimming in the sky and birds flying in the water!” Dick turned back with a grin, flashing a mischievous smile characteristic of the locals.
Hermione seemed inspired by the beautiful scenery and began writing furiously in her notebook.
“What are you writing?” Frey glanced sideways.
Hermione replied without looking up:
“Writing letters to Harry and Ron. I want to tell them about what I’ve seen here. I’ll tell them there are pink clouds. They’ll definitely think I’ve gone mad.”
Frey felt a sudden, inexplicable tightness in his chest, as if a secret territory he had spent so much effort building was about to be trampled and messed up by two random boys.
He didn’t want to hear any more about Harry or Ron, so he forced a change of subject.
“Grandfather, where do we go next?”
“We’ll land at Dick’s tribal village. Then he’ll guide us past the Third Salem’s sentries to the border between civilization and the wilderness.”
Newt pointed to a dashed line on the map, which indicated unexplored territory.
“For the rest of the journey, we’ll have to rely on our own two feet.”
“Mr. Dick isn’t coming with us?” Hermione asked.
Dick shook his head.
“That place is too far. It’s a forbidden zone where even the Shuar have never set foot. It wouldn’t do any good if I went, and it might only interfere with your exploration.”
“Look, that’s my village.” Dick pointed to the settlement in the distance, and then to a wooden cabin at the edge of the village.
“That’s my house… Strange, why aren’t the lights on today?”
His confusion received a bloody answer in the very next second.
With a draconic roar, flames tore through the night sky.
A Peruvian Vipertooth was rampaging through the center of the village plaza like a bull in a china shop.
It was relatively small for a dragon, but its speed was lightning-fast.
Seven or eight Shuar men were channeling Fanged Geraniums and Venomous Tentaculas in an attempt to restrain it, but in the face of the Vipertooth’s sharp claws, fangs, and dragon fire, these plant-based defenses were as fragile as paper.
Dick panicked.
“What’s going on? Why is there a dragon in the village?”
Newt shouted:
“Dick, we need to find a place to land. We’re sitting ducks in the air!”
Veins bulged on Dick’s forehead in his anxiety.
“I can’t! The beast has taken over the plaza, and there’s no other open space in the village!”
Newt pulled a glass bottle from his bag containing a writhing plant and tossed it to Dick.
“Use this, quick!”
It was Devil’s Snare.
Dick shattered the glass bottle with one hand and threw the Devil’s Snare out.
Forming a strange hand seal, he muttered a chant, and the spectral shadow of a jaguar appeared behind him.
Magic rapidly surged into the Devil’s Snare.
In no time, the plant wove itself into a massive elastic net stretched between two ancient, towering trees.
“Hold on tight!”
Dick roared, steering the canoe into a wild drift, heading straight into the center of the Devil’s Snare.
With a tearing sound, the tough Devil’s Snare was ripped apart by the massive momentum, but the canoe’s speed plummeted.
But it wasn’t enough!
Losing its balance, the bow of the boat was tilting sharply toward a wooden house.
“Hermione, the Summoning Charm! Grab an ancient tree to slow us down!”
With a flick of Newt’s wand, a beam of translucent magic accurately latched onto a tree trunk on the left.
“Right!” Hermione shouted, her spell firmly hooking onto a trunk on the right.
This was an advanced application of the Summoning Charm.
When the caster’s magic wasn’t strong enough to pull the target, the spell would pull the caster toward the target instead.
Frey thought to himself, *Isn’t that easy?* Imitating them, he drew a half-circle in the air with his wand and pointed it sharply at the massive tree Hermione had targeted on the right—one that was thick enough to require two men to hug.
“Accio!”
A colossal crack resounded.
The ancient tree, which had survived in the rainforest for who knew how long, was actually uprooted!
Under Hermione’s terrified gaze, the ancient tree really did fly toward them, acting like a massive wooden wall blocking the path of the canoe.
“Damn it!”
The force on the left and right was completely unbalanced.
The canoe spun instantly, crashing inevitably through the side wall of a residential house.
Amid flying wood chips and the scent of fresh soil, the four of them rolled onto the ground in a daze.
Reacting quickly, Frey threw himself over the bow, reaching out to pull Hermione protectively into his embrace.
With a loud crash, the two of them broke through the inner wall of the wooden house, rolling together through flying feather pillows and shattered clay pots.
Hermione rubbed her head as she sat up from Frey’s solid chest, her cheeks burning hot.
“Frey… you barbarian,” she muttered softly, though her hands instinctively gripped his collar tight.
By the time Frey pulled a blushing Hermione out of the wreckage, they could see an Indigenous woman and two terrified children cowering in the corner.
Dick scrambled up, covered in soot.
“Honey, let me explain… I didn’t do it on purpose.”
Just then, a blast of scorching dragon breath blew the roof right off.
Dick had no time for explanations.
He grabbed his wife and yelled at Frey, “Kid! If you have the strength to uproot a tree, go grab that dragon’s tail for me!”
The woman pushed Dick hard.
“I’m fine! Go help the chief in the plaza! The men are out there, they won’t hold out much longer!”
Newt drew his wand, brushing the dust off his clothes with a grim expression.
“Let’s go help.”
As soon as he finished speaking, an earth-shattering crash echoed outside.
The ancient tree Frey had summoned had crashed heavily to the ground.
Frey rubbed his nose awkwardly, looking a bit sheepish as Hermione glared at him.
“Uh, I was just trying… to help you.”
“You idiot! You almost crushed us to death!”
Hermione brushed the wood ash off her skirt in annoyance, drew her wand, and rushed out.
“But, thank you…”
Outside, Newt frowned as he stared at the Peruvian Vipertooth.
A blowpipe dart was stuck in the dragon’s belly, swinging with its movements.
“This isn’t right. Although Peruvian Vipertooths love human flesh, they are solitary predators. Once injured, they retreat. Someone angered it…”
Frey felt his back burning hot.
He felt an urge—an urge to transform and tear this Peruvian Vipertooth into shreds.
Newt grabbed his arm and said in a low voice, “Calm down, you are a wizard! Use your wand, don’t rely too much on instinct. That will only make it easier for you to lose control.”
Frey swallowed and nodded.
Hermione shouted from behind, “Don’t kill it! It must have a reason!”
Frey said with a murderous look, “A Peruvian Vipertooth preys on humans.”
Hermione changed her angle.
“Capturing it alive to harvest its scales and blood is much more profitable!”
The effect was instantaneous.
“Really? Alright, let’s do it your way.”