"Let's first see what items I got earlier. I remember this was supposed to be an item-based match..."
Avada rummaged through the pockets of his specially made cloak. Those pockets had been enchanted with an Undetectable Extension Charm and were more than enough to hold all the little things he had taken from the fragile pillars earlier.
"Potion, potion, more potions... oh, here's a cloak that can block one dragon breath attack, but what do I need that for? It's not like I can't block it myself..."
"Are there seriously no items in here specifically meant for dealing with a dragon in the air? Don't tell me the organizers really intend to make a bunch of not-yet-graduated students solo an unrestrained, full-power, largest-dragon-in-the-world kind of monster??"
"Leaving aside whether even a professional dragon hunter could actually solo a Ukrainian Ironbelly—wouldn't this be a blatant slap in Gringotts' face?"
While holding up his wand to maintain the Shield Charm against the dragonfire pouring down from above, Avada used his other hand to rifle through his pocket, pulling out all those little items—ninety percent of which were potions—and tossing them onto the ground one by one, all while continuing to think in bafflement.
Fortunately, the dragon above looked thoroughly committed to breathing fire for the moment and had no intention of stopping, which was the only reason he could inspect his belongings this comfortably...
Though the fact that "being attacked by dragonfire" counted as comfortable at all was itself pretty absurd.
"There's a Ukrainian Ironbelly in one of Gringotts' underground vaults too. I saw it once. It was down in the deepest vaults, used to guard those with the very highest and most secret security classifications. Not even Dumbledore's vault for the Philosopher's Stone, or the Potter family vault, reached that level of security—"
"And yet now, a dragon entrusted with a mission that important has been knocked flat three times in a row by a student who hasn't even graduated yet??"
"Isn't that basically the same as telling Gringotts that their defenses can't even stop a student?"
"Uh, wait, no, maybe they really can't. Didn't Harry and Hermione break in during seventh year..."
"..."
Grumbling inwardly, Avada suddenly felt the pressure on his wand-hand lighten sharply.
The dragon in the sky had finally stopped its raging breath attack for the moment and was now beating its wings as it dove downward, sending a gale of wind full of shattered stones and torn grass sweeping toward him. The arena had been magically reinforced into extreme toughness, yes—but it had already been ravaged by at least a dozen blasts of dragonfire, not to mention the pressure from the dragon's hundred-ton body itself...
Yet instead of alarm, Avada felt delight at the oncoming pressure.
It was actually willing to come down on its own?
What he had been most worried about before was the dragon simply staying in the sky and kiting him. If it did that, it might not be able to defeat him directly, but it could drag out the match for a very long time and severely affect his final score for this task...
But to his surprise, the dragon was being this cooperative?
In that case, he would go a little easier on it.
By the time that thought passed through his mind, the Ukrainian Ironbelly had already accelerated to its limit in midair. With one savage beat of its enormous wings, its whole body plunged downward like an arrow loosed from a bow, its sharp foreclaws extended straight toward Avada's position.
This was probably standard dragon hunting behavior. If the strike landed cleanly, Avada was not especially sure how many intact pieces of himself would remain afterward.
So an Eye Hex shot out with exquisite precision and struck the diving dragon directly in both eyes.
With an enormous shriek of pain, several Impediment Jinxes followed in rapid succession, slamming into one of the dragon's wings and twisting it into a grotesque angle, as though it were about to snap off in midair.
And just like that, the poor dragon lost its balance completely, screamed as it swept past Avada's side, and then smashed headfirst into the ground...
At a speed probably not much less than an airplane crash.
That was one of the fortunate things for Avada. An ordinary dragon hunter would not necessarily ever get a dragon to charge in on such a perfect straight-line suicide run.
Coming straight at him meant it could hardly maneuver in the air, could not dodge spells coming from the front, and conveniently exposed its eyes, nostrils, neck, mouth, and other weak points all at once.
Against a wizard—a creature specialized in ranged spellcasting—what was that if not openly delivering its own head?
Dragons themselves normally preferred to use fire while flying. Diving strikes like this were usually only used while chasing fleeing prey. This dragon, however, had probably built up its hatred for Avada to the limit and felt that simply burning him to death with dragonfire was nowhere near satisfying enough, which was why it had made such a move.
But that, too, was thanks to how well Avada had built up its hatred earlier. Otherwise, he never would have created such a one-shot kill opportunity.
In the end, it all came back to the same key to winning this match—
Grasping the dragon's mentality.
"A collision like that... it shouldn't be dead, right?"
Having raised a Shield Charm in time to block the shockwave and dust cloud from the dragon slamming into the ground, Avada stared at the center of the smoke that had not yet fully dispersed.
The once blazing scarlet life force had weakened by more than half and was now reduced to only a tiny, flickering remnant, wrapping around a small amount of golden mental force.
Fortunately, though, that remnant of life force still seemed relatively stable. It showed no sign of continuing to drain away.
The vitality of creatures like this was terrifyingly tenacious.
As the dust from the impact gradually settled, Avada and the many spectators outside finally got a clear look at the Ironbelly's miserable state.
Its head was covered in blood. Its eyes were shut, and it appeared to have fallen unconscious. Its entire body lay limp on the ground, both wings drooping weakly to either side. One foreleg was very clearly broken outright, and even now its claws were twitching slightly...
Unless this dragon was actually a phoenix in disguise, it had no business getting back up to fight again.
In other words, he had completely finished the second task.
"Merlin's beard!"
"Bagman" shouted loudly, his voice trembling with genuine emotion. "Look at that! The youngest champion has defeated the most powerful dragon in the world at a speed beyond belief!"
"All those provocations earlier weren't just for guiding the dragon into breathing fire—they were also meant to deepen its hatred of him even further on top of the enraging curse, forcing it to abandon its aerial advantage and creating exactly this opportunity!"
The barrier around the arena opened once more, and a large group of what were probably dragon handlers rushed in, nervously checking the dragon's condition. After confirming that its life was not in danger, they all let out a sigh of relief. They treated its wounds a little, then used magic to lift its enormous body and carry it off the field.
At the same time, the sound of the crowd outside finally poured in—and it nearly startled Avada. Only then did he realize just how deafening the outside had been during his match.
"Ludo Bagman" also jogged all the way down to the judges' table, spoke briefly with the other four judges one by one, hurriedly jotted a few things down in a small notebook, and then returned to his platform, where he cheerfully shouted:
"And now, let me announce Mr. Ken's final score for this match, based on the combined scores of all five judges—"
"Forty-seven points!"
(End of Chapter)