No doubt about it—the designer of this round was definitely Durmstrang.
Bludgers, Golden Snitch… It's obvious this was tailor-made for Krum, and they're not even trying to hide it.
They even prepared brooms for the competitors…
Kael picked up the broom floating beside him.
The broom was brand new, still covered with a layer of protective wax, but when Kael picked it up he realized it was big and heavy, practically like it was made of stone. Forget the Firebolt—even the Comet 260 from the school's broom closet was much lighter and easier to handle.
At the end of the broom handle, Kael found a line of golden text… Cleansweep One.
Well, well, the first broom of the Cleansweep Series, a product from seventy years ago.
Poor Ministry of Magic people, seriously. This ancient, antique broom is so rare, even in the Room of Requirement's junk warehouse, you'd be lucky to see one—and yet they actually managed to find a new one.
After all, this thing's been obsolete for ages. Even in the Diagon Alley Quidditch Shop, the oldest model now is already Cleansweep Seven.
Kael held the broom and walked a few steps forward, reaching the edge of the cliff… To be honest, seeing twenty-nine bludgers all at once was pretty impressive; they zipped around the air above the pitch at high speed, zig-zagging without pattern, emitting a low, ominous buzzing sound.
As for the Golden Snitch, it only appeared for a moment before vanishing without a trace.
"Might as well give it a try."
Kael mounted the Cleansweep One, gave the ground a gentle kick, and lifted off into the air.
The Cleansweep Series is known for its quality—with even a seventy-year-old model, the ride was still pretty stable. The only problem was that it was far too slow, and turning took a lot more effort.
Kael, used to the Nimbus 2000, found it rather hard to adjust… And he didn't really have time to get used to it, either.
As soon as he was airborne, the bludgers, once darting around at random, suddenly found a target—charging toward Kael from every direction at once, practically blocking off all escape routes.
Luckily, Kael hadn't gone far. Seeing the oncoming swarm, he immediately twisted his broom around and shot back to the tiny patch of ground just in time.
Once his feet were back on solid ground, the bludgers scattered above, showing no further interest in chasing him.
The situation in the second task was basically clear now: it was a creative "Seeker training" session. He had to catch the Golden Snitch among twenty-nine bludgers, and the only safe place was this circular platform, barely a foot in radius.
Kael stepped to the edge and glanced down… He had no idea how deep the drop was but guessed it must be several hundred feet—falling off your broom here was a guaranteed ticket to the afterlife.
Of course… Maybe the school had ways to protect the champions, but if that were the case, they might as well forget about scoring this round.
...
"Thank Merlin they set an age line."
In the stands, Ron looked at where Kael stood and said with an obvious sense of relief to Harry, "If I'd ended up where Kael is right now… I'd probably just be standing on that platform until the end of the task."
Just watching from up here made his legs wobble uncontrollably.
"Yeah…" Harry nodded enthusiastically.
He liked Quidditch, and he loved flying fifty feet above the ground on his broom—but that was under normal circumstances.
This, however—flying above a bottomless cliff, facing bludgers in numbers ten times the usual—Harry figured he wouldn't have the courage to even try… just like that Delacour from Beauxbatons.
She'd tried a moment ago and nearly fell off, clawing her way back onto the platform, looking absolutely miserable… and she hadn't budged since.
"Oh, look! Kael's thrown his broom away!"
Hearing Hermione's shout, Harry quickly tore his eyes away from Fleur and glanced back at Kael.
On the platform, Kael had already set his Cleansweep One aside.
"What's going on now? Is he giving up?" Ron frowned.
"No way," Hermione said firmly. "He's definitely thought of another way."
Hermione was right—Kael had indeed come up with a solution, and in fact, he had more than one.
Strictly speaking, this was actually much simpler than the first task. If you could get past your fear of heights, clearing it wasn't hard at all.
After all, this was the Triwizard Tournament, not Quidditch—they could use magic. If he just smashed all the bludgers, he could search for the Golden Snitch in peace, and beating the round would only be a matter of time.
Of course, that might cost him some points—and, more importantly, the Cleansweep One was just too uncomfortable. Riding it was a pain… so Kael decided to try his second idea.
He raised his wand.
"Accio Firebolt!"
Kael waited, and soon, he heard something whistling through the air behind him, fast as a bullet.
The Firebolt Sirius had given him circled the pitch, zoomed straight into the Quidditch Pitch, and stopped dead in the air right beside him.
The roar of the crowd grew louder; even Bagman was shouting now.
"Brilliant idea…"
What he said after that, Kael couldn't hear anymore.
He swung a leg over the Firebolt and soared in a light arc through the air.
This was his first time flying the Firebolt—and the experience was flawless. The Firebolt responded like it was his own body, reacting instantly to every thought.
This is what a broomstick should feel like… That Cleansweep One really belonged in a museum.
Kael swooped in another circle, and before he knew it, he'd already left the platform's safe zone.
The bludgers sprang to life immediately.
But this time Kael didn't care at all. With the lightest tug upward, the Firebolt took him clear of their encirclement.
Kael moved like a nimble swallow, weaving deftly through the bludgers.
"A spectacular inverted broom maneuver—he dodged an almost certain hit!"
Bagman seemed to have forgotten about the other two contestants. "Oh, that's a Slantwise Flight… a DePaul Hover Dodge… I never thought Hogwarts would have someone who could fly like that… He should try out for a professional team—perfect timing to make the national squad for the next Quidditch World Cup!"
Cheering in the stands was getting louder and louder, and bursts of fireworks lit up the sky.
Up with the judges, Karkaroff's face was as dark as storm clouds, while Dumbledore, in sharp contrast, sat there beaming and clapping his hands.
And not only was he smiling; he even wanted to share the joy with everyone else.
"Karkaroff, do you have a team you'd recommend?"
"What?" Karkaroff seemed to snap back to reality.
"I mean, if that boy's interested, joining a professional team wouldn't be a bad idea. Bagman's right—England hasn't reached the Quidditch World Cup final in far too long."
Dumbledore smiled. "But I'm not very familiar with that world, so I'm curious what you think… If I recall correctly, didn't you spend nearly a year visiting teams with Viktor?"
Ms.Maxime glanced sideways at him.
So she'd heard the rumors—it was the same year they decided to restart the Triwizard Tournament—but she hadn't realized Karkaroff had been taking Viktor Krum with him the entire time.
That meant Krum was risking his studies, and would have to delay graduation by a year.
"Nothing I could do," Karkaroff said, his fingers twisting through his goatee under Maxime's increasingly odd gaze. "Viktor has extraordinary talent—I have a headmaster's duty to help him find the perfect team."
"A headmaster's duty?" A flash of scorn flickered in Maxime's eyes. She seemed like she wanted to laugh, but held it in.
She didn't say anything more, instead turning to continue watching Fleur on the field.
...