Chapter 258: The Second Task

Three Cyruses stood before them, each gracefully extending a hand.

"Would anyone like to dance?"

Hermione and Ginny were utterly dumbfounded.

"What's going on? Who drank Polyjuice Potion?"

"It's not Polyjuice Potion, but a duplication charm," Cyrus explained softly as he gently took their hands and led them onto the dance floor. Ginny and Hermione, their faces now flushed crimson, let themselves be guided as if they were marionettes under Cyrus's control.

The sight captivated everyone at the ball—not just because of Cyrus's strikingly handsome appearance and the overwhelming beauty of the three girls, but because, in all of Hogwarts' history, no one had ever witnessed someone dancing with three people at the same time.

When the Weird Sisters began their second song, many guests seemed to forget what they were supposed to do. The center of the dance floor cleared out, and people stood gaping, like spectators watching an extraordinary skating performance.

It wasn't until the Weasley twins burst into the trio's dance with their own partners that the rest of the crowd snapped back to reality.

—It was time to dance.

Yet, as surreal as it was to see Cyrus dancing simultaneously with several girls, the room reached peak absurdity when Albus Dumbledore and Gellert Grindelwald each let go of their respective partners, McGonagall and Madam Maxime, and clasped each other's hands to join the music.

The pair danced together, arms around each other's waists. Dumbledore appeared to take on the more traditionally feminine role in the waltz, and Cyrus immediately noticed something else—

Dumbledore was definitely a zero!

The sharp and piercing gazes of the crowd fell heavily on the two elderly figures in the center of the dance floor. The sheer weight of doubt and inquiry in those eyes could crush a person.

Yet neither Dumbledore nor Grindelwald seemed to care.

They moved as if oblivious to the judgment surrounding them, as if, for a brief moment, they had left behind all sadness and regret. Together, they were transported by the music back nearly a century—to a season when roses bloomed in Godric's Hollow.

Cyrus gently held the hands of the girls dancing with him, positioning himself and them like three rose petals encircling the two old men at the heart of the floor.

Grindelwald didn't even glance at Cyrus. His eyes reflected only one person—Dumbledore.

But it wasn't the Dumbledore of now. It was the Dumbledore of nearly a century ago.

Despite the undeniable intimacy between them, neither Dumbledore nor Grindelwald ever openly addressed their relationship—not even by the time the second task of the Triwizard Tournament had begun.

Harry, curious about whether Rita Skeeter's speculations held any truth, dared not ask Dumbledore directly.

However, the day after the Christmas ball, he did hear whispers about an incident: apparently, Dumbledore had been punched. His already crooked nose was now even more misshapen.

Regardless, the focus soon shifted to the second task.

On a crisp spring morning, under the pale sunshine, everyone once again gathered at the Quidditch pitch. Despite the lingering snow and biting cold of early spring, the crowd's enthusiasm was undeterred.

However, no champions had yet appeared on the Quidditch pitch.

"What's going on?" The crowd was in uproar.

The scheduled start time for the task had already passed, yet none of the champions were anywhere to be seen. If not for the fact that tickets to watch the event were free, many young wizards might already have climbed onto the heads of those in the front row, shouting: "Geneva, refund!"

The Weasley twins were already itching to cause a stir, but just then, the large screen at the center of the Quidditch pitch suddenly lit up!

An ancient hall and a dark corridor appeared on the screen.

Several young wizards immediately recognized the location. Their eyes widened, and they covered their mouths, gasping in astonishment:

"That's the Ministry of Magic?!"

"My goodness, that's a Sphinx!"

Ron saw the screen showing Cyrus encountering a fierce magical creature as soon as he entered the room, and he couldn't help but break out in a cold sweat for him.

The danger posed by a Sphinx was no less than that of a dragon. In fact, it was even worse because the creature enjoyed toying with wizards, making it all the more insidious.

Although Ron had witnessed Cyrus subduing a dragon before, he couldn't help but feel worried now. Putting himself in Cyrus's place, he knew if it were him standing there, he would barely have a one-in-ten chance of survival.

"I wonder what riddle the Sphinx posed?" Ron muttered to himself, frowning as he stared at the screen.

He couldn't hear the audio from the scene, but his imagination filled in the gaps. If it were him, he'd rather face a dragon than fail the Sphinx's riddle and be toyed with like a mouse before meeting his end.

He glanced over at Hagrid, hoping to share his thoughts on how dangerous Sphinxes were, but the half-giant was clutching a handkerchief tightly, his large frame trembling as he teared up and said:

"It's so adorable!"

"I really hope Cyrus doesn't hurt it!"

Ron immediately realized Hagrid wasn't the right person to talk to about this.

"Never mind, I should have a little faith in Mr. Cyrus," Ron muttered, shaking his head and turning his attention back to the screen.

He saw that the Sphinx had moved aside, clearing the path. Just as he was about to feel relieved for Cyrus, he noticed that Cyrus had no intention of leaving.

"What on earth happened?"

...

Time rewinds to a few minutes earlier.

The Sphinx had just caught a whiff of something suspicious and immediately spread its massive claws, speaking in a hoarse voice.

"You have three chances to give the correct answer."

It was evident that the Sphinx was impatient, eager to kill Cyrus.

However, Cyrus wasn't focused on the riddle itself; instead, he was staring at the creature's claws.

These were unmistakably the claws of a feline. The paw pads looked like ripe, plump fruits, but the claws were as sharp as daggers. The moment Cyrus got the riddle wrong three times, the Sphinx would instantly tear his body apart!

The Sphinx loved riddles and delighted in killing foolish people. But in reality, its fondness for riddles was part of its inherent "magic." Just like how certain dark magic books would curse someone to only speak in rhymes for the rest of their life, failing to answer the Sphinx's riddle would subject a person to its magical influence, leaving them weaker and more vulnerable.

Of course, refusing to answer would yield the same result.

Otherwise, why would such a creature tirelessly pose questions?

"The answer is fish."

As Cyrus pondered whether the Sphinx's paw pads might be softer than a cat's, he casually gave his answer.

These kinds of riddles weren't a challenge for him.

To be honest, compared to these questions, even the door knocker of Ravenclaw had more depth. It wasn't a joke, in comparison, Cyrus really felt that the knocker possessed far more "wisdom."

The Sphinx was stunned; it hadn't expected Cyrus to answer so effortlessly.

A fish is alive but breathes with gills, fitting the condition of having no breath. Its body temperature is also low, cold whether alive or dead. It doesn't get thirsty, yet it is constantly surrounded by water.

The Sphinx looked somewhat disappointed. It seemed to think that Cyrus had a clever mind, and if it devoured him, perhaps it could become a bit smarter itself. But magic is a kind of contract. Since Cyrus had answered the question correctly, it could no longer harm him.

So, the Sphinx straightened its legs, its massive body rising like a mountain, revealing the black floor beneath its belly, clearing the way for Cyrus.

"You answered correctly. Please proceed."

Its almond-shaped eyes gazed at Cyrus, while Cyrus also lifted his head, his fiery golden eyes staring at the creature like a king surveying a lowly beast.

Cyrus curled his lips into a cold smile, yet his feet remained still.

"Ahh~ no, no, it wasn't me trapped with you, you see? And did I say you could leave?" he sneered. "It's unfair if only I answer your questions."

"What did you say, human?"

"Why don't you answer my question?"

The Sphinx was taken aback, its almond-shaped eyes now widened like bronze bells.

It had never imagined that one day it would become the one being questioned.

This was a complete reversal of the natural order!

However, it quickly realized this could be an opportunity.

If it could answer the question posed by this wizard, wouldn't that break the previous magical contract? Then, it could tear him apart and devour his brain!

"Very well, ask your question," the Sphinx immediately agreed to Cyrus's request. It was extremely confident and filled with anticipation.

Its eyes were already filled with murderous intent, though its human-like face still wore a smile, appearing harmless.

The Sphinx lowered its massive body, ready to listen to Cyrus's question and answer it instantly—this was no challenge for it. From the moment it was born, its mind had been filled with riddles and answers.

After solving the riddle, I will kill this clever wizard!

"My question is a difficult one," Cyrus said with a smile. "What can run but never walks, has a mouth but never speaks, has a head but never weeps, has a bed but never sleeps?"

"A high-quality riddle indeed." The Sphinx, which had intended to answer immediately, hesitated. The answer didn't come to its mind right away.

But after a brief moment of thought, the Sphinx immediately knew the answer.

"It's a river," it said.

"A river runs but never walks; it has a mouth where it meets the sea, yet it never speaks; it has a source, but it never sheds tears; it has a riverbed, yet it flows without rest."

"It seems this question wasn't difficult for you." Although Cyrus said this, he wasn't surprised.

The connection between riddles and answers seemed to be an innate part of the Sphinx's magical prowess, especially with these abstract puzzles, which it enjoyed the most.

Hearing this, the smile on the Sphinx's face shifted ever so slightly. In that moment, its expression became utterly savage. The gentle smile, once as calm as a spring breeze, now resembled the ferocity of a wild beast.

Or rather, it was a beast all along.

"I've won, so now you shall die here!"

Without warning, it went berserk!

Its hunched body shot out like a spring, and its enormous wings spread wide, making it look like a streak of yellow lightning!

Its thick, razor-sharp claws lunged forward like a spear aimed directly at Cyrus's chest!

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