Chapter 210: Fire Python
Underground, in the most secretive and secure room.
The messages coming through the walkie-talkie made the DGSE Director feel he might have misjudged the situation.
He had assumed these Magi-Metal Wizards were in opposition to the mainstream wizarding world, so no one would come to their rescue—or if they did, it would only be pitiful outcasts like themselves. Nothing to worry about.
But the reports from the surface described a hundred-meter-long fire python appearing at the camp entrance. A hail of bullets had merely turned into molten iron, like fireworks against a tree, adding to the spectacle without harming the beast.
Compared to the Magi-Metal Wizards who were easily captured, a wizard of this caliber was a world apart—definitely not the same species.
His conclusion, based on Hawke and his lackeys, had misjudged both the opponent's background and their strength.
For an intelligence officer, this was a fatal error, one unacceptable even in basic training.
He pressed the talk button: "Organize a counterattack, don't cease fire. Arrange for someone to shout out—I want to negotiate with them."
Then he looked at the Magi-Metal Wizards, bound tight on the operating tables.
Since Hawke's words were unworthy of analysis, he needed a subject who was. He said, "Mr. Martin, who do you think is coming to rescue you?"
Martin, unable to struggle free, spat, "None of your damn business!"
"It seems Mr. Martin isn't ready to speak the truth. I'd like to remind you of a fact: even if someone is here to save you, your lives are still in my hands."
The Director clapped his hands. "Take good care of Mr. Martin."
Trained agents stepped forward, some picking up delicate scalpels, others fiddling with cold, glinting instruments. The scene was terrifying.
"Why go through this? In any power structure composed of intelligent life, the compromisers—the vast majority—are enough to suppress those who act on emotion."
The Director watched indifferently. "In the face of sufficient profit, what's a few deaths?"
He believed that once the wizard outside had vented their anger, they would choose to cooperate.
Because wizards hid from the world, and France was a major world power.
The former suggested wizards' power wasn't as overwhelmingly dominant as legends claimed; they definitely couldn't fight the entire ordinary world. The latter was a fact: once he was elected President, France would be the wizards' ally.
Moreover, wizards couldn't be a monolith. If there were those communicating with the current President, there naturally would be those opposing them.
The existence of the Magi-Metal Wizards confirmed his theory.
After all, given the state of France, no one would bother with beggars unless those beggars could bring in votes.
And in his view, Magi-Metal Wizards were the beggars of the magical world.
Thus, he felt victory was in his grasp.
On the surface, after consuming everything consumable, a nine-headed fire python, now over six hundred meters long, rampaged through the camp, hissing and roaring.
The soldiers executing orders to block the enemy were going mad.
Guns, bullets—anything that got close melted into molten iron, swirling around the fire python to form a glowing armor.
Shells, explosives, grenades—the shockwaves and light pressure from the explosions caused no harm, only feeding the flames and making them burn fiercer.
It wasn't that no one thought of using water cannons.
But when all available valves and connections were hooked up to hoses, and powerful high-pressure streams shot towards the fire python...
The effect was super effective.
Super effective at harming humans, that is.
The moment the water hit the fire python, it vaporized into scalding steam. The steam spread everywhere, and unprotected soldiers rolled on the ground in agony, their exposed skin visibly red, swollen, and blistering.
These unprotected soldiers curled up like cooked shrimp, wailing incessantly.
And this was with the fire python showing no intent to slaughter; it was merely melting the camp facilities. Otherwise, at least half of the three or four thousand personnel at the "Swimming Pool" headquarters would have been turned to ash by now.
The camp, illuminated golden by the flames, should have looked like an Eden of light. Instead, it resembled a purgatory on earth.
The camp loudspeakers persisted in broadcasting the call for peace talks: "Honorable Wizard, the Director of the DGSE wishes to speak with you."
The python remained silent, single-mindedly turning the surface into a blast furnace.
Even though some soldiers realized the fire python wasn't intent on killing, facing a several-hundred-meter-long anomaly that radiated enough heat to vaporize anyone who got close... everyone wished their parents had given them an extra pair of legs to run faster.
Unfortunately, the fire python didn't accept surrender, so they couldn't perform the "French salute." Their only option was to grease their soles and scram.
Fewer and fewer soldiers remained on the surface; most had fled into the surrounding woods.
With everything on the surface melted into slag, the loudspeakers fell silent.
But barely two seconds of quiet passed before a buzzing broadcast sound came from underground.
"Honorable Wizard, I admire your noble character in refraining from lethal force. I believe we have an opportunity to talk."
"Your people are currently guests here. I hope they can return safely."
"I brought them here as guests merely because they lacked the qualifications to cooperate with me directly. I only wished for them to stay a while longer; I had no other intentions."
The Director spoke into the microphone underground until his mouth was dry, repeating himself tirelessly.
He was very patient.
His methods, after all, weren't gentle, so it was normal for the rescuing wizard to vent some frustration.
Watching the hideous, terrifying python with its unmatched power on the monitor, he marveled, "So beautiful! What powerful strength! What a magical creature!"
Bullets and shells were helpless before it, as if nothing in this world could hinder it.
And in fact, that was true. Fiendfyre burned everything, and the upgraded version modified by Gellert could ignite all known matter.
In the dense forest, an area hidden by layers of magic.
Fleur whispered, "That person inside sounds like he's using Martin and the others' safety to threaten us."
"I heard." Ryan's face showed no anger, only a certain coldness.
The stronger one was, the more they could appreciate the terrifying nature of Ryan's methods. Maxime was still immersed in the horror of the Fiendfyre spell; she was dumbfounded, unsure of what to say.
Dumbledore watched everything without comment. As he had said, he was only there as a safety net.
Quirrell said, "Since we are here to save people, the hostages' safety should be the priority."
"I know what I'm doing."
As they spoke, the rampaging fire python on the camp grounds opened its maw. Black smoke drifted from its flaming fangs, and syllables burst forth from its nine throats.
~~~
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