Chapter 324 "Fighting Nibelungen"

Wentworth extended his hand tentatively towards Nibelungen, hoping to alleviate the tension, but the creature recoiled, emitting a low growl. Surprised, Wentworth glanced at Grindelwald, seeking an explanation.

"Grandfather, this guy seems a little hostile to me?" Wentworth inquired, puzzled by Nibelungen's behavior.

Grindelwald responded with indifference, "Oh, it's normal, probably because you're sleeping in its room!"

Realization dawned on Wentworth, understanding now how the hole in the wall had come about. He hastily suggested, "Then I'd better change rooms to rest! I don't want to fight for a place with a beast!"

However, Grindelwald's expression grew stern, and he retorted sharply, "What are you talking about?! Are you afraid that you would rather give up your room for him?! A mere pet?!"

Before Wentworth could clarify, Grindelwald interrupted, his tone unyielding, "If I said you sleep here, then you sleep here! If you can't even protect the place where you sleep, I'll throw you out of that hole!"

After Grindelwald's departure, Wentworth hastily assured, "Don't worry, grandfather, I'll go easy on him!"

But Grindelwald's response was unexpected. "I'm not talking to you!" he retorted, leaving Wentworth perplexed.

Before he could make sense of the situation, Nibelungen lashed out once more, prompting Wentworth to draw his wand and evade the attack.

Fueled by frustration and humiliation, Wentworth resolved to assert his dominance. "I'll let you know today that from now on, there is another master you should bow to!" he declared, aiming his wand at the creature's eyes.

"Lumos!" Wentworth yelled as the blinding white light flashed from his wand.

However, his attempt to blind the beast backfired as it swiftly folded its wings and shielded its head, evading the spell.

In a mesmerizing instant, a radiant glow emanated from his being, casting an ethereal hue.

Caught in the gaze of Nibelungen, effortlessly dispelling his incantation, Wentworth found himself rooted to the spot, unable to tear his gaze away.

As their eyes met, Nibelungen lowered its majestic wings, a smirk playing upon its reptilian features. Wentworth discerned a hint of mockery in its gaze.

"Nob, I refuse to entertain your antics any longer," Wentworth began, his words trailing off as the Norwegian Spinosaurus swiftly repositioned itself, its gaze fixated on him.

Before Wentworth could react, the beast thrust its head forward with alarming speed, accompanied by a burst of azure wisps, unleashing a torrent of searing flames directly at him.

 

Yet, anticipating the imminent attack, Wentworth deftly rolled aside, narrowly evading the fiery onslaught.

Undeterred by Wentworth's evasion, the Dragon persisted, its maw agape, spewing forth relentless torrents of draconic fire, each aimed unyieldingly at its target.

"Aguamenti," Wentworth intoned, invoking the elemental forces to shield himself from the onslaught.

In an instant, billowing steam billowed forth, shrouding the room in a dense veil of white mist as if the Dragon's breath itself had turned the air into vapor.

Within moments, the chamber became obscured by the thickening fog, obscuring all sight. Just as Wentworth prepared to draw a breath amidst the swirling mist, he was abruptly sent sprawling to the ground by a vicious swipe of razor-sharp claws concealed within the haze.

"I'll be damned! How can this creature see so clearly without eyes?! Did you hear that?" Wentworth exclaimed, bewildered by the beast's seemingly supernatural perception.

Before he could fully process the situation, the looming form of the Norwegian Spinosaurus materialized before him. Without hesitation, it lunged forward, jaws agape, aiming directly for Wentworth's exposed arm.

Wentworth knew all too well the dire consequences of being bitten by such a creature. His only hope lay in the slim chance that his estranged grandfather possessed the elusive spell of limb regeneration.

Yet, judging by his grandfather's past indifference towards him, Wentworth dared not rely on such uncertain mercy.

Adding to the peril, Nibelungen's spiky tusks dripped with venom, further heightening the imminent danger.

Summoning every ounce of his resolve, Wentworth, now pinned beneath the creature's immense weight, struggled to lift his wand, aiming it shakily towards the creature's vulnerable underbelly.

"Ventus Tempestus! There is no way I would lose to you" he incanted desperately, hoping his spell would find its mark amidst the chaos.

Empowered by Wentworth's "Windstorm" spell, the Dragon's underbelly was stripped of its protective scales, exposing vulnerable flesh to the elements.

With a swift incision of magical force, crimson blood erupted from the creature's abdomen, staining its scales in a grim testament to the efficacy of Wentworth's magic.

The whole room, which was covered in fog, suddenly dissipated as the Dragon whimper in pain.

The immense beast, previously bearing down upon Wentworth with crushing force, now recoiled with a deafening roar of agony, causing Wentworth's ears to ring. It staggered backward; its movements labored, before finally succumbing to the pain and collapsing to the ground with a heavy thud.

In the aftermath, a crimson river flowed from the creature's wounded belly, pooling beneath its massive form. Wentworth, observing the fallen Dragon writhing in anguish, breathed a heavy sigh of relief, his heart still racing with the echoes of fear.

At that moment, Grindelwald entered the scene, casting a scrutinizing glance at Wentworth before delivering his assessment with an impassive expression.

"Your spell, while effective, lacks follow-through," Grindelwald remarked tersely, his tone betraying no hint of sympathy.

Without awaiting Wentworth's response, Grindelwald approached the wounded creature, his movements deliberate and methodical.

Placing his hand beneath the beast's belly, he channeled his own magic, his touch eliciting a cessation of the creature's torment.

Gradually, the Dragon's agonized cries subsided into deep, restful slumber, leaving behind a palpable aura of tranquility in the wake of the chaos.

In that tense moment, Grindelwald rose to his full height, fixing his gaze upon Wentworth with a penetrating stare, his words deliberate and laden with implication.

"Had it not been for Nibelungen's momentary lapse in vigilance, you would have been utterly defeated today," Grindelwald began, his tone carrying a weight of admonishment. "Your abdomen, vulnerable in the throes of battle, became your Achilles' heel. You seized an opportunity, yes, but victory remained precarious."

With a dismissive wave of his hand, Grindelwald cut off any attempt by Wentworth to interject, his next words dripping with disdain.

"Lumos? Aguamenti? Such incantations have no place here. This is not a child's game from your school days; this is a battle against a fire-breathing dragon, intent on making a meal of you!"

"And the Unforgivable Curse, did you deign to learn it?" Grindelwald's voice held a note of reproach as he surveyed Wentworth's bewildered expression.

Wentworth shook his head, a blank look etched upon his features, realizing the gravity of his ignorance in the face of such formidable adversaries.