Chapter 25. The Frog and the Turtle
My gaze is fixed on the Ravenclaw table, but unlike my fellow housemates, I'm not casting longing doe-eyes at the French Veelas. Instead, my attention is drawn to another S-tier beauty—the one who never interacts with anyone, who's always conveniently overshadowed by the Delacour sisters.
Teresa Clare, as usual, is dressed in a white bodysuit. It clings to her lissom figure like a second skin, covering everything yet leaving little to the imagination. Her long blonde hair is parted down the middle, with luscious locks framing her strikingly angular face. She reminds me of elfs from fantasy novels, exuding a quiet melancholy and avian grace.
I rise to my feet and follow her as she leaves the Great Hall, ignoring Hermione's inquisitive look. It's finally time to have a talk with her; she's stayed an enigma long enough. I need to know more—no, I want to know more. Aesthetically, she may fall slightly short of the Veelas, and while my lust begs me to focus on the Beauxbatons sisters, her calm, mysterious aura pulls me in like a moth to flame. It would be a tragedy if I didn't even try asking her out. And my romantic interest aside, there are her mind-boggling levels too.
Teresa Clare
Level: 91
Beauty Tier: S
Seduction: 0%
Points Available: 10
Kinks: ?
How can someone so young be so powerful? This question has plagued me since the moment I saw her stats. Is it even possible for a teenager to rival the likes of Dumbledore? Apparently, yes.
Not only is she powerful, but her background is equally intriguing. From what Parvati has managed to gather, Teresa transferred to Beauxbatons just before the tournament. It's not far-fetched to assume she was placed there solely for this competition. But by whom? No one at her school seems to know a single thing about her. They don't know if she has siblings. They don't know if she has parents. They know nothing.
Conveniently, Teresa is a complete loner, barely engaging with even her own team member. Fleur Delacour's irritation and Gabrielle's disappointment are well-known by now. It seems they weren't prepared for Teresa to simply kill the dragon in a single strike, robbing Gabrielle of her chance to shine.
In the end, all I know is her name: Teresa Clare. She is absurdly powerful—nowhere near enough to threaten me, but strong enough to face anyone else. And this raises an uncomfortable question: Who's pulling her strings? Are there people strong enough to command someone like Teresa? Is Dumbledore truly the most powerful wizard? Am I?
I'm hoping to get some answers today.
The sway of her supple legs keeps me trailing behind her for a few seconds until she stops in the corridor and turns to face me. Tilting her head, she folds her arms under her modest chest. "Do you need something?"
I use [Major Love Pass] on her, raising her seduction from 0% to 40%. Now, it should be easier to lure her in. Unlike Alice Longbottom, she isn't a loyal wife or a dedicated mother. So my Love-Pass ought to be more effective.
I glance at the claymore strapped to her back. "'Need' is a strong word. I'd say 'want' fits better. Care for a spar?"
Her silver eyes gleam with interest. "You're skilled with a sword? And are you really asking me to put you in your place?"
"You might be more powerful than anyone here. You might've slain a dragon." I say, my smile sharpening as I meet her gaze. "But don't be delusional. You're still far from a match for me."
A faint smile flickers across her normally placid face. "I'll have to take you up on that offer to spar. There's nothing quite like deflating an overgrown ego."
"You sound so sure" I lean casually against the wall. "Isn't that what we call overconfidence?"
"Believe it or not, I'm the second strongest in the world." Her tone is matter-of-fact, as though stating a fundamental truth rather than boasting.
"Good that you know your place—knowing who's number one."
She sighs, unfazed. "You remind me of the story of the frog in the well. Ever heard it?"
"I have," I say, knowing where she's going with it. "A frog who believes his well is the entire world, scoffing at the turtle who offers to show him the ocean."
"That's it." She nods. "You're that frog, convinced that all that matters is within your sight, not realising how wide the world actually is, so drunk on your small victories that you can't see the war rampaging around you."
"You sure you're not the frog in this scenario?"
She taps her chin thoughtfully, then smirks. "No, I'm the turtle meant to enlighten you. You're not stronger than me, child. Only one man is."
My lips press in a thin line as I hold back the irritation at her condescension. "I suppose you think Dumbledore is the strongest."
Her smirk only widens. "You really are the frog. No, I didn't mean Dumbledore. He's nowhere near the top."
I frown at her arrogant declaration. Does she really think she's stronger than Dumbledore? He's level 95 while she's 91. They're close, but Dumbledore is clearly above her. Then again, she doesn't have [See] skill; it must be a false presumption.
"Then who is number one?" I ask.
"I'm afraid I'm not allowed to answer that. Anyways, when do you want to spar?"
I let her evade the question this time. "Now is good. Follow me."
She walks beside me, her gait assured and fearless. "I promise not to go too hard on you."
"I can't do the same. I like going hard and rough with beauties like you."
I don't have to look at her to know she's rolling her eyes. "Careful that you don't go too 'hard and rough' and break your sword."
She's evil for that mental image, and that faint smile shows she knows it.
"Say, how about we wager on the outcome of this spar? You're absolutely sure you won't be defeated, and I can't imagine losing either. One of us is wrong, and she needs to pay for her empty claims."
Amusement dances in her strange silver eyes. "You're correct. One of us is a braggart and he needs to learn a lesson."
"Right. How about you go on a date with me when you lose?"
She briefly pauses, stumped by my proposal, before resuming her stroll. "I did not know you liked me. I'm surprised."
"What's there not to like? You're strong and incredibly attractive. It would be weird if I weren't interested."
"So you're here for my body." She tries to make it a quip, but I detect a hint of sorrow and shame, though it's quickly gone.
Instead of simply saying yes, I try to be more polite. "Initially, yes. But now that we're talking, I can't say I dislike your personality either. So, do you agree to go on a date with me, or are you just idle boasts?"
"Only if you win." Her playful tone is gone, replaced by a mask of ice. "When I win, I want you to never bother me again."
"Ouch. Didn't know I was bothering you. But fine, I agree to these terms." I open the door to a secluded classroom and lead her inside.
"We're going to spar here?"
"Patience." I summon my mirror.
A full-body mirror appears before us. It's six feet tall and framed in silver and gold. It's one of many items I got for sleeping with mum and Rose.
[The Mirror]
— A mirror that acts as a gateway to a reflection of the real world. The reflected world is an exact replica but without any sentient beings. Anything you do there has no consequences in the real world. Note: Each visit creates a new version of the world; the reflected world is not permanent.
"This mirror will transport us to the mirror world, where we can unleash our full power and fight without fear of collateral damage. Go ahead, step inside."
"Interesting item you've got here." She examines it before ducking through it.
I blink at how easily she was convinced. A normal person would've been afraid of stepping into an unknown magical artefact. But Teresa doesn't seem to have an iota of self-preservation. Either she trusts me too much or thinks she's powerful enough to escape whenever she wants. Having seen her confidence, my bet is on the latter.
It will be fun to kick her arse.
With that eager thought in my head, I step into the mirror world.
~xXxXx~
The mirror world is an exact replica of the real one. If not for the eerie silence—void of any human, animal, or insect sound—I might have forgotten I was in another realm entirely.
We are presently in the arena, the very same one used in the first task. Even two days later, the organisers haven't cleaned up the quidditch pitch, letting the arena stand. I have heard enough complaints about it from Katie and Rose.
The ground is rocky, peppered with boulders, and a wooden wall encircles the ring. Even the transparent ward is in place, serving as a barrier between danger and the unoccupied stands.
"Ready?" Teresa asks with her claymore in her right hand, pointing it at me. Aren't claymores two-handed swords? Is she even taking it seriously?
We face off in the middle of the arena, only a few steps away from each other.
I summon my 'Steel Sword'.
[Steel Sword]
— A simple steel sword. Stick them with the pointy end, chump.
It's an ordinary piece with a minimal design. But it will have to do. It's not the weapon but the wielder that matters anyway. And it will be a good opportunity to test my [Weapon Master] skill, as well as the learnings from loyal Diarmuid.
I hold my sword in one hand and mimic her stance, standing in a way to minimise my exposed body, with my left leg behind and slightly to the side, my shoulders angled to present a narrower target. My sword is held at a slight angle in front of me, tip aimed towards her chest, ready to intercept or strike.
With a nod, we both step forwards. I strike first, a quick thrust, which she parries away effortlessly. We circle each other, our eyes locked, our swords perfectly tight and loose in our fists. My knuckles turn white as I suddenly tighten my grip and lunge forward, raining thrusts and slashes at her.
The clang of clashing swords fills the arena.
Each attack is perfectly executed, thanks to my [Weapon Master] skill, that allows me to use any weapon proficiently. But somehow she counters every offence with perfect defence. No matter what I do, nothing gets past her guard, which should be impossible. I'm level 210 while she's only 91. She shouldn't have the speed or the reaction time to counter my moves. She shouldn't even be able to see them coming. It's astonishing that she didn't lose at the first strike.
An overhead swing is batted away, and she leaps forward to finish the spar.
She's agonisingly slow, I realise. I simply step back and follow up with a diagonal chop. But again, she swipes it away.
Interesting. When she's defending, my speed and technique doesn't seem to matter. But when she goes on offence, she slows down considerably. I'll have to ask her about it later.
We keep at it for the next couple of minutes, but we can't break the stalemate. Her defence is flawless, but I'm too quick for her. Neither of us can land a winning blow. It doesn't make me proud exactly. What's the meaning of being level 210 when I can't one-shot a level 91 girl?
Then she leaps back and eyes me warily, not even out of breath. "This is going nowhere. I didn't know you were this good."
"Same. I thought I would've pummelled you in one attack."
"Such arrogance." She shakes her head. "I guess I need to take it more seriously and show you the difference between us."
"Go ahea—"
I can't even finish my sentence before she lunges forward, her sword arcing towards me.
One moment she is far away, and the next, she's pressing down on me.
This time, she's holding the sword in both hands. The sudden increase in her speed is disorienting, and I barely manage to raise my sword between the incoming strike and my head.
It doesn't matter.
Her sword slices through mine like a knife through butter. My blade parts from the hilt and clatters to the ground with a metallic thunk, leaving me clutching the handle. Her sword halts just short of carving into me.
…
…
What the hell was that? I'm frozen in my spot, cross-eyed as the claymore looms over me like a guillotine.
She gives me a tight smile and withdraws it. "You're good, child. But that's all you are. I won."
"How?" I utter, perplexed.
"Trade secret," she replies coyly.
Losing is a hard thing to accept, doubly for me, who claims to be the strongest man in the world.
So… I won't accept it. I drop the bladeless sword and smirk at her. "Who said it's over? It was just a warm up. If I wanted a lukewarm spar, I wouldn't have brought you here. Let's fight for real, as if we want to kill each other. Now that I know you can take it, I won't hold back."
Her eyes grow wide in shock as white angelic wings sprout from my back. As I flap them and shoot in the sky, I suppress my anger and shame at such a humiliating loss. I can do better than that. I'm not a swordsman. But I am the strongest. This girl cleaved through a dragon, she can survive some rough-housing too.
As I hover over the arena, Teresa becomes a small speck on the ground, probably gaping at my divine form.
This is where I belong. In the air, flying, raining lightning like gods.
As the wind washes over me, as the sun warms my face, I point my finger in her direction and use my [Bolt] skill.
Crackling lightning falls from the heavens—from me. It's not my strongest bolt, I don't want to kill her, after all, but it does pack quite a punch if she cannot escape. It won't kill her instantly, but it will burn her body.
No problem, I can just heal her if that happens.
I blink when she simply bats the lightning aside. It swerves and hits the transparent ward, exploding in a blinding flash.
The ward shatters.
Oops, I guess it was a stronger bolt than I intended.
"ARE YOU TRYING TO KILL ME?" she yells from the ground, but by the time it reaches me, it's merely a whisper.
"I KNOW YOU CAN TAKE THAT. STOP HOLDING BACK AND LET LOOSE." I yell back.
"DON'T BE A SORE LOSER. LET'S GET OUT."
I use [Bolt] again, a stronger one this time, the likes of which should terrify even Dumbledore. She better not end up dead.
But again, she swings her sword and sends it careening into the stands.
The stands explode and catch fire.
How can she do that? She's only level 91!
Lightning doesn't seem to be working. Let's use my favourite attack.
I tuck my wings and dive towards her. The air presses down on me from all sides. It screams in my ears. It tries to claw at my eyeballs as I free-fall. Just as I'm about to crash on her, my wings flare out and I shout.
"FUS RO DAH!"
She tries to cut the force, but it doesn't work.
The sudden burst of power slams her into the ground, leaving a splattered crater beneath her. Her unbound hair fans out like a halo around her groaning face. She lies spread-eagle, limbs twisted at unnatural angles. Blood spurts from her nose and mouth, dribbling down her chin, flowing down her neck, staining her white clothes.
~xXxXx~
Teresa Clare
She lies in the crater, every inch of her body screaming in pain. Her legs are broken, as are her hands. If she hadn't shielded her neck, it would have snapped, too—not that it would've ended her. She can't die.
For the first time in ages, a faint ember of hope stirs within her. Maybe Harry Evans truly is powerful enough to kill her. Maybe he isn't all bluster. Maybe her deepest wish will finally be granted, and she can escape her master—and this wretched life—for good. A grim smile curves over her blood-stained lips.
But as a warm golden light cocoons her and heals all her wounds, she feels disappointed and betrayed. She feels angry. Why is he healing her? Just try to kill her, and maybe one of these attempts will do the unthinkable and end her sorry existence.
As he helps her to her feet, rage courses through her veins.
Time for playing is over. Harry Evans can prove to be her salvation. Now all she needs to do is force him to kill her.
She breaks the self-imposed limit she had put on herself.
Now, either Harry will kill her or she will kill him. Nothing in between.
It's his fault for giving her hope. He has to take responsibility. Kill or get killed.
~xXxXx~
Something weird is happening.
There's a sharpness to Teresa's form. It's as if she has become more than real, as if she's the only solid thing in a muddy illusion. Her long blonde hair sways with the wind, and her silver eyes glow with power. A subtle radiance cloaks her body, making her seem more than human. Suddenly, large white wings unfurl from her back, followed by a smaller pair just above her hips.
…
The intense pressure emanating from the four-winged Teresa is horrifying. The very gravity seems to have changed around her, making her the nexus of all natural forces.
I step back as she picks her claymore and regards me with a faint smile.
Teresa Clare
Level: 500 (Awakened Form)
Beauty Tier: SS
Seduction: 40%
Points Available: 15
Kinks: None
…
…
Fuck. I didn't even know this was possible. What the hell is she?
Just to be safe in case she's holding a massive grudge for that pummelling, I fly a little and float above her, creating distance between us. "Nice transformation. But the match is over. I won. Should we head back and talk about what the hell is going on?"
"The match will be over only when one of us dies." Her faint smile is still there as she gives her sword an idle swing. The force behind it cuts a thick line through the burning stands, collapsing it entirely. "Let's stop holding back, shall we?"
"I don't want to, though." I gulp, can't help feeling intimidated. "Who will I take on a date if I kill you?"
"I'm sure there are many girls out there willing to jump in your lap," she says wryly. "Enough talking. I'll be aiming to kill you. Remember that. If your desire to be with me makes you soft and ends with your death, don't haunt me."
"Do we really have to do that? I can apologise for escalating a friendly spar." I brace myself, aware I'm the reason for this disaster.
"Don't be. It's the best thing you did."
Before I can respond, she just appears in front of me, her blade shearing cleanly through my neck.
…
…
Her disappointed sigh is the last thing I hear, her voice dwindling as my senses leave me. "I guess you were really just a braggart. You…"
Excruciating, searing pain rips through me for a microsecond. Then, I'm plunged into an abyss of cold nothingness. Death is strangely numb and deeply disorienting, I think. Before I can think further, I pop back into the mirror world and hover where my body had been. It disintegrates and vanishes, now that I have a new, whole body unaffected by its previous beheading.
I shudder at the eerie sensation. I'd rather avoid a repeat of that experience, thank you very much. One time was more than enough.
"Didn't I just kill you?" Teresa drifts before me, her wings stirring the air around us. She cocks her eyebrow, a spark of curiosity in her silver gaze. "Are you immortal too?"
"I am." My expression is blank. She really did not hesitate chopping off my head. And her question makes it clear she's immortal. I'm glad I have 101 more lives to spare. Because now that I know she's serious about it, I won't hesitate either. It's a unique opportunity to fight someone vastly stronger than me. "Alright, have it your way. Let's really kill each other."
"You sweet talker. You're going to make me fall for you." Her smile turns feral and she disappears again.
I apparate away immediately, barely missing the edge of her blade. I can't see her movements, she's just that fast. It would be an impossible match to win, if I didn't have a few secret weapons up my sleeve.
"Stop running and fight," comes her irritated response.
I keep on apparating randomly, aware that she's quick enough to kill me if I lingered anywhere for more than a second. Wait, I just have a perfect thing for situations like these.
I activate [Ethereal] skill.
[Ethereal]
— Grants the user the ability to turn intangible. You are untouchable in this state, no type of attack will hurt you, but you cannot attack in any way either.
I flinch as her sword passes through me and destroys the world around us. Already, her previous attacks have totally obliterated the arena. If this goes on for long enough, the Scottish highlands will be nothing but a memory.
She relentlessly attempts to kill me, but none of her attacks connect. They merely phase through my form. I wince as the impact of one of her slashes cleaves through the castle, splitting the Gryffindor Tower in half.
Teresa Clare is a true monster. And I dread to think there's someone out there who she considers the strongest.
As she realises none of her attacks matter, she glares at me sullenly. "Is that all you're going to do? Come on, attack me. Kill me."
That's another weird thing. Why does she want me to kill her? It would be such a waste to lose an actual SS tier beauty. I'd rather fuck her and get 15 points instead of murdering her. Not that I can kill her anyway. Well, 'Penance' is guaranteed to kill anyone I wish, but I'm not going to use that now. And if she's really immortal like she claims, neither [Unrelenting Force] nor [Blessing of Incineration] will end her.
"How about this? I will use my most powerful attack. If it kills you, you're a loser, but if you survive, we end this match here and talk this out."
"What if I say no?" She sheathes her sword and crosses her arms.
"I will apparate far away and use the mirror to go back to the real world, leaving you forever trapped here."
Her shoulders sag, her previous fury fizzling out. "Fine. I will simply float here and won't even try to kill you this time. Give me your all. I know you won't be able to kill me. But if I think it's a powerful attack, I'll consider you a winner and go on a date with you. Impress me, Harry Evans."
"Don't cry when you die." I apply [Vial of Duralumin] to my strongest skill.
This can maybe kill her. I'll give it 50/50 odds.
Teresa hovers in front of me, both hopeful and resigned.
~xXxXx~
The two winged humans face off in the air. The air ruffles their hair and flutters the feathers in their wings.
As agreed, Harry Evans attacks with his strongest attack. A sphere of white fire swirls in his open palm, the size of a tennis ball. He eyes the beautiful monster with mixed emotions and gives her a last nod.
This can prove to be an odd farewell.
Then he drops it and apparates away in hurry.
Teresa Clare doesn't move, she simply stares at the falling fireball expectantly, her four wings idly flapping to keep her steady.
The wind tries to snuff out the fireball, but it drops straight down, trailing a white light of untold destruction.
As soon as the ball collides with the ground, the world falls apart.
Endless blue flames burst out of the ball as it explodes. The unquenchable fire spreads outwards in an instant like ravenous beasts of hell. They expand immediately and engulf everything as far as the eyes can see.
Hogwarts is atomised.
Hogsmeade is no more.
The snow-capped mountains are unmade.
A giant mushroom cloud billows in the sky. The temperature rises to millions of degrees celsius.
But nothing burns.
Everything is simply atomised and ceases to exist.
After the explosion comes the earthquake, but it's fine. There's nothing left to destroy.
There's no fuel for the blue flames.
A lifeless black charred plain stretches in every direction, anything that can burn was burnt away the moment the white fireball exploded.
Nothingness is all that is left.
~xXxXx~
When I return minutes later, I find a writhing ash mound.
It's the only thing that is burning with blue flames.
I douse the flames. And the ash mound starts swelling. It rises upwards once the unquenchable fire stops halting the rebirthing process. It takes a humanoid shape, and like a phoenix rising from ashes, Teresa Clare emerges naked.
There's not a scratch on her body. Her wings are pristine. But for some odd reason, she covers her midriff in terror. "Don't look! It's ugly."
"What's ugly?"
"The scar."
"What scar?"
She looks down at her torso with bewilderment. "There were hideous stitches right in the middle, running from my collarbone all the way to my groin. It was the result of an experiment. My master had to sew my body to keep my organs from spilling out."
"Interesting. I must've healed it after I dive-bombed you." I say distractedly, too busy gawking at her SS-tier body.
She covers her breasts and crotch. "Let's leave something for our date, hmm?"
With a wave of my hand, I clothe her. "I assume you were impressed by my attack."
She looks around the wasteland with an awed expression. "Very impressed. Let's go somewhere less sweltering and talk—like you wanted to. I will tell you everything, Mr. Frog. Miss Turtle is here to open your eyes to the wider world."