aircannonsinc Chapter 107 Scarface Cuts Off His Own Arm
Chapter 107 Scarface Cuts Off His Own Arm
Chapter 108 Scarface Cuts Off His Own Arm
When Hagrid leaped down from the top pipe, it was a truly earth-shattering event.
But look: his disheveled hair stood on end, clogging his lion's mane; his steel beard stood like a forest of halberds. Veins bulged on his forehead, like coiled pythons; white cloth was wrapped around his eyes, showing his fearlessness in the face of death.
This hero, like a dark cloud covering the top of the sky, fell squarely and directly onto the top of the snake monster's head.
The iron hammer in his hand swung like a wheel, bringing with it a thunderous sound, as if a giant god were angrily splitting Mount Hua; the muscles in his arms bulged and jutted out, channeling a thousand pounds of divine power, just like Apollo slaying Pi Tong.
"Go to hell!"
With a roar, the iron hammer slammed down, smashing the serpent monster's skull and shattering its bones. Its crown burst open like a thousand peach blossoms, and its orange-yellow eyes bulged from their sockets and flew away. Truly: a single hammer blow silenced the evil spirit, its divine power trembled in all directions!
Harry exclaimed joyfully, "Good brother! You've come at just the right time!"
The basilisk was knocked to the ground by a hammer blow, and before it could recover, it saw Harry roll over and reach for his knife.
With a steel blade gleaming coldly in his hand, he moved like a whirlwind sweeping away fallen leaves. With a "crack," a three-foot-long rainbow of blood burst out in mid-air, and the several-foot-long serpent was completely still.
Hagrid tore off his blindfold, still not satisfied, and swung his hammer in a wide arc, breaking all of the basilisk's teeth with a loud crash.
Seeing the clarity in his eyes, all traces of past confusion gone, and the air of extravagance emanating from him, Harry couldn't help but laugh loudly, "Brother, you've had an epiphany today! It's the perfect time!"
"I should have done this a long time ago."
Hagrid stretched out his large, fan-like hand and wiped the bloodstains across his face, turning them into a rouge-like mark. His five fingers gripped the iron hammer like iron pincers, and he said in a deep voice, "This should have been done fifty years ago!"
"Rupert Hagrid, it's been a long time."
Tom clapped his hands. "You've changed a lot. If you had this kind of personality fifty years ago, I probably wouldn't have chosen you to take the blame."
"But... the bravery you're showing seems a bit forced."
"Let me test you, old classmate. Can you remember my new name?"
Voldemort
"What the hell are you!" Harry jumped forward and cursed, "You spineless bastard, you've even abandoned your parents' surname, and you still dare to call me that!"
"You disloyal, unfilial, heartless, and unjust traitorous murderer, it's time for your master to deal with you today!"
Tom's face darkened, then he suddenly laughed and said, "So eager to interrupt my conversation with Hagrid? Are you afraid he'll lose face, Potter?"
"But you have to understand, he's lived a cowardly life for fifty years. Do you really believe he can change?"
Tom is a master of manipulation; he used sharp words to sow discord between the two heroes.
Unexpectedly, Hagrid remained silent for a long time before frankly saying, "You're right, I really can't remember your name."
"But I'll die before Harry."
Poems as proof:
A hero risked his life to protect Harry, but Tom's demonic name remains unmentioned.
Fearless of death, only fearful of fame; its fierce power awes the heart.
As the two exchanged words, Harry couldn't contain himself and shouted, "Brother, why waste your breath? Tonight, let's join forces and kill this bastard!"
Having said that, he raised his staff and cast a spell.
Tom snorted coldly and said nothing more, only reciting the evil curse.
The two were exchanging spells and fighting when Hagrid seized the opportunity to swing his hammer forward. With a mighty swing of his arms, he sent the hammerhead piercing through the man's body, only knocking the diary in his hand flying several feet into the air.
"You're really pathetic, old classmate. I've already absorbed the magic power of dozens of students; an ordinary hammer can't hurt me."
Seeing that he was about to cast a spell on Hagrid, Harry yelled, "Brother, watch out!"
As is often the case in war, Tom, with a smug look on his face, suddenly twisted his body and pointed his wand directly at Harry.
"Flying around!"
No sooner said than done, a strong wind arose in the secret chamber, and dozens of venomous fangs that had fallen off the snake monster flew out from all directions.
Harry, a seasoned veteran of the battlefield, wielded his ring-handled dagger with dazzling skill. It protected his body and his shadow, the clanging sounds as dense as a sudden downpour on banana leaves. Truly, it was as if: water could not penetrate even a crack, and locusts were swarming to the mortal realm.
Having exhausted all his fangs, Harry was about to sheathe his sword when Salazar, nestled in his arms, suddenly spoke:
"No, we're missing one."
"The basilisk replaces its two fangs every fifty years."
Before he could finish speaking, the stone bricks beneath his feet suddenly shattered, and another tooth shot out from underground, piercing Harry's left arm.
Hagrid's eyes widened in horror. "No!"
"Ouch, the basilisk's fangs have pricked me." Tom chuckled dismissively. "There's almost nothing in this world that can withstand the basilisk's venom, so how long can you last, Potter?"
Harry ignored him and had already placed the knife under his left armpit. With a "snap," his left arm was severed.
Tom immediately stopped laughing, raised his cane, and shouted, "Avada Kedavra!"
As the saying goes, "Seize the opportunity when it's weak, and you'll break through like a hot knife through butter." If it were anyone else, cutting off their own arm would have already caused them unbearable pain, making them writhe on the ground and wail in agony.
Harry, however, was a ruthless character forged through years of battle. He would take the pain of a severed arm or even the pain of a steel knife scraping his bone or a sharp blade gouging out his heart as commonplace.
But his face remained unchanged, and his jaw was clenched tightly. He then brandished his monk's knife to block the way.
Unexpectedly, the spell struck the knife, but unlike before, it didn't disappear into thin air. With a clang, the white frost mithril ring knife instantly broke in two.
Upon seeing this, Tom's face darkened.
This is the third failed killing curse.
"Burning flames!"
"Harry, watch out!"
The fire curse came, but Hagrid leaped forward and blocked it all, his unkempt hair and beard crackling as they burned.
"Run! Harry!"
Harry held his wand in his mouth and drew a rune on his chest with his right hand, smeared with blood. But as soon as he finished outlining the rune, the blood began to spread on its own.
"Surprised, Potter?" Tom sneered. "I've already placed a curse in the Chamber of Secrets, so no liquid can condense. Don't even think about using the blood magic you learned from the Chinese wizards."
"To rip out one's intestines!"
Harry cursed under his breath, spat out his wand, and swung it at him.
Hagrid was determined to save Harry's life, but also to make his death quick and painless. He gritted his teeth and leaped toward Tom, determined to drag him down to the underworld even if he were burned to a pile of charred bones.
At this moment of mutual destruction, a thunderous shout erupted from beneath the domed pipes, "Ignore his illusions, you big idiot! The real one is in the diary!"
A fierce wind arose through the pipes, a flash of crimson-gold light appeared, and Phoenix Fox clawed at the Sorting Hat.
"Long time no see, Tom! Old Hat's here to clean up—"
"Avada Kedavra!"
A flash of green light appeared at the tip of Tom's cane, and Fox fell to the ground, landing squarely on Hagrid's head. A tear rolled down his cheek, instantly extinguishing the raging inferno.
Seeing Fox burn himself to death atop Hagrid's head and turn to ashes in an instant, Tom nodded in satisfaction. That's how it should be.
The Sorting Hat fell to the ground, and the speaker yelled, "Harry, put your hand inside me!"
The sect, having absorbed the magic of the living, regained threefold power; its secret chambers concealed hidden mechanisms, each move a deadly strike. A hero, with a severed arm and broken sword, was trapped when suddenly a phoenix appeared carrying a hat. But how could the hat of the sect utter such shameful words? Let's hear the next chapter for the explanation.
(End of this chapter)