109: Capturing the Big Snake and Conversation

Time is a strange thing—it slips away unnoticed, yet sometimes, it feels incredibly slow.

After three days, John was starting to lose patience.

During these days, he constantly had the urge to rush over to the small hut and cast Fiendfyre or a Blasting Curse. It was as if something had crawled into his brain, persistently pushing him to go in and cast a spell.

"This is really getting annoying."

Annoyed, John pouted and distracted himself with studying to stave off the restlessness.

He pulled out his book on runes, occasionally casting a Disillusionment Charm on himself.

"Ah!?!"

Finally, on the sixth day, he saw the giant snake slither out.

His eyes locked onto the snake as it left the small hut.

"This distance isn't enough."

Estimating the distance, John needed to be within ten steps of the snake to launch an attack.

He also had to make sure he was far enough from the hut to avoid triggering the rebound curse inside.

Tapping his wand against a tree trunk, John cast a supersensory charm, expanding his awareness to a hundred meters.

Nothing, not even the slightest rustle, would escape his attention now.

Silently, he waited for the snake to move far enough from the hut's range.

Chaotic-colored particles fell wherever the snake passed, but these particles didn't last long, most of them staying within the snake's body.

"Mist."

John opened his right hand, puffed up his cheeks, and blew out a breath.

A thin, misty fog, like the haze after rain, silently rose in the forest. This was mist magic.

Hidden within the fog, John used his supersensory charm, allowing him to track the snake's position clearly, even without sight.

He took to the air, silently flying above the snake.

Even in the mist, the snake was quite familiar with the path it had traveled hundreds of times.

It snapped up a lost rabbit, swallowing it whole, fur and all.

"Um.. So brutal, nothing like that delicate, sorrowful voice I heard before."

Seeing the snake's savage behavior, John couldn't connect it with the soft, weak, and pitiful voice from earlier.

Continuing to follow the snake, they arrived at the three-pronged tree where John had first come. Along the way, the snake devoured small animals, and even a Red Cap wasn't spared.

It occasionally let out hissing sounds, but without Parseltongue, John had no idea what it was saying.

"This spot should do."

John calculated the distance. Even if Voldemort noticed and rushed over, he wouldn't make it in time.

John silently took out a pair of anti-curse gloves from his small pouch and put them on. Then, he retrieved a bottle of black powder.

This powder, as it happened, had been a gift from Quirrell, back when he had tried to convince John to fully become a Death Eater, by sawing off the horn of a unicorn.

For a pure creature like a unicorn, any persecution would trigger a powerful curse throughout its body. Drinking the blood of a unicorn could help one cling to life, while its horn could put anything into a deep sleep.

Carefully, John sprinkled a bit of the powder onto the snake, using wind magic to direct it gently over Nagini.

The black powder was nearly invisible. Without the benefit of enhanced perception, it would have gone unnoticed.

As the wind-borne powder touched the snake, inside the wooden cabin, the deformed Voldemort suddenly opened his eyes.

"Someone has discovered Nagini."

"No!!!"

"AVADA KEDAVRA!"

Voldemort realized that Nagini had fallen into a deep sleep and immediately used what little magic he had left to cast a curse.

John glanced in the direction of the wooden cabin. The curse shot toward him like a laser, sending a chill down his spine.

In the blink of an eye, he dove down to the now-sleeping snake. Grabbing Nagini by the tail, John swiftly performed Apparition.

The two figures, tangled together, vanished with a loud crack, disappearing just before the deadly curse struck.

The forest ground cracked open, and Voldemort's strike completely altered the landscape in that area.

Yet, despite his power, Voldemort still failed to stop John.

Inside the cabin, Voldemort let out a furious roar, and any animal that heard the sound instantly had its life snuffed out.

...

Outside the Belby Manor.

Crack—!

With a loud bang, a large snake was tossed to the ground.

John looked pale. His Apparition skill was only at level 2, and making such a long-distance trip while carrying a snake had thoroughly exhausted him.

As he escaped, he also heard Voldemort's scream. That voice struck his very soul, as if it was trying to crush his mind.

"Haah.. motherfucker.."

"No wonder he's the second-generation Dark Lord. Even without a wand, he's still incredibly dangerous."

John's expression was full of apprehension as he thought about Tom Riddle. Even as a fifth-year student, the young Voldemort had already displayed the power of an Auror.

It was hard for him to imagine just how powerful Voldemort had been at his peak.

Perhaps, if not for Dumbledore, Voldemort might have already taken over the magical world.

After narrowly escaping death, John's heart was racing, despite having faced Voldemort a few times before.

Grabbing the snake by the tail, he dragged it toward the Belby Manor.

Damocles Belby was still a bit frustrated. He had only taken a nap, and when he woke up, John had disappeared.

They were supposed to achieve success together—what if John took all the credit and ran off?

The thought made Damocles panic a little. To him, losing honor was worse than death.

"Better act fast, get the results out there first, so he can't steal the spotlight."

Damocles's blood magic potion hadn't been tested yet, but to protect his own glory, he began writing letters.

After several revisions, just as he was about to send out his results, John returned.

"Mr. Belby, is there a dungeon or something around here? Preferably one with warding spells."

"Ah—John! Oh Merlin, you nearly killed me!"

John looked quite strange at the moment.

His hair was tangled with grass and leaves, and although it hadn't rained, his clothes were damp with dew.

But most of all, the odd thing was what he was dragging—a twelve-foot-long snake, its condition unknown, being hauled into the manor.

"Wait, John, what's going on?"

Belby was so surprised he forgot all about the letter in his hand. He watched as John, who had abruptly left, returned, and he wanted to question him about where he had been.

But John gave him no chance, so Damocles swallowed his curiosity and led him to the Belby family dungeon.

John tossed the massive snake inside and reinforced the dungeon with protective barrier magic.

Damocles was utterly confused by what he was seeing.

"Phew... finally done. Now we have the material for our experiment," John said, wiping nonexistent sweat from his forehead.

He glanced at Damocles, who was dressed in a cloak, holding a fancy cane, and apparently about to head out. "Are you going somewhere?" John asked, puzzled.

"Uh... it's not urgent," Damocles mumbled nervously as he tucked the letter away.

Suddenly, what John had said earlier dawned on him. "Wait, did you just say... experiment material?"

"Un-ha" John casually nodded while asking a house-elf to prepare a cup of thick, sweet hot chocolate. "It's a victim of the Blood Curse."

"What?!"

Damocles's initial plan to question John was immediately forgotten. His eyes lit up as if he had just struck gold. Without any fear of the slumbering snake, he rushed into the dungeon.

He began eagerly examining the snake from head to tail, as if trying to uncover all the secrets of this rare Blood Curse victim.

"I suspect that this blood-cursed wereperson has already transformed, but it seems that some part of her soul still remains intact. We might be able to start from there," John explained.

Taking the steaming cup of hot chocolate from the respectful house-elf, John took a sip. The overly sweet taste would have been unappealing to him before, but now he drank it in large gulps without hesitation.

As the warm hot chocolate flowed down his throat, John's pale complexion finally began to improve.

"Why is this snake still asleep?" Damocles Belby noticed something odd. Despite all the noise and commotion, the snake showed no signs of waking up.

"Gulp~ Ahh~ mutch better~ Ehm!"

John quickly finished the rich, sweet chocolate and nonchalantly replied, "Oh, I used a method similar to the Sleeping Charm. It'll probably stay asleep for a few months."

"A few months?" Damocles asked suspiciously.

John coughed awkwardly. "Well... maybe two or three months."

"You must have cast the Sleeping Charm on it dozens of times!" Damocles exclaimed in shock.

Even a dragon would fall into an eternal slumber with that many Sleeping Charms cast on it.

This was John's first time using Black Unicorn powder, so it was understandable that he hadn't been able to control the dosage perfectly.

He defended himself, saying, "It works out perfectly. This way, we can test it thoroughly."

Damocles thought about it and agreed. Considering the size of this snake, it was certainly no docile creature. Testing it while it was unconscious would likely be much easier.

Seeing that Damocles was convinced, John let out a small sigh of relief.

'Hmm?'

At that moment, a thin strand of silver light floated in front of John's eyes. He was momentarily stunned, noticing that the strand was connected to the snake's body.

As he reached out to touch it, that same sorrowful, gentle voice echoed in his mind once again.

~~"Help me... end my suffering."~~

The sorrowful voice seemed filled with despair.

John paused, thinking for a moment before trying to respond in his mind, ~~'I'm working on it.'~~

His voice traveled through the silver thread and into the snake's body. The owner of the voice seemed to hear him.

Her voice trembled with disbelief. ~~"You... can hear me?"~~

~~'Yes, I can. So please, don't give up. I'm trying to help you break free from this curse.'~~

John's voice softened, realizing that the snake's deep sleep must have allowed this voice to emerge.

Each blood-cursed creature was a tragedy—a victim of fate, burdened with a destiny they hadn't deserved.

With a solemn tone, John said, ~~"Trust me."~~

Those two words, though spoken by a young voice, carried an innate sense of trustworthiness.

Nagini's nearly shattered soul seemed to stir with a new-found strength, and she spoke again.

~~"Who are you?"~~

~~'' They call me Wick, John Wick.''~~

As soon as the words left his lips, the silver thread in his hand disintegrated and drifted back toward the snake, ending their conversation.

John stared at the scattered silver light in his hand, like a fragment of a broken soul.

Ethereal, beautiful, and tragic.

___________

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