The forest shifted as Hecate, Matthieu, and Mulan ventured deeper into the red zone, the air growing heavier with an almost tangible tension. The towering trees cast long shadows across the path, their twisted branches creating an eerie canopy above. Every sound seemed amplified—the rustle of leaves, the crunch of their footsteps, even the distant cries of magical creatures.
Matthieu, walking slightly behind the two women, tried to break the silence. "So, Hecate," he said, his voice low but curious, "what exactly is your plan for dealing with the Géant Corbeau? It's one of the most dangerous beasts in France, after all."
Hecate's lips curved into a faint, enigmatic smile. "I'll show you when the time comes. For now, let's focus on finding the camp."
Matthieu blinked, her calm response doing little to reassure him. He glanced at Mulan, who strode silently beside him, her hand resting on the hilt of her sword. The warrior exuded an air of readiness, her every step precise and deliberate.
"Is your weapon enchanted?" Matthieu asked, his curiosity getting the better of him.
Mulan's eyes flicked toward him briefly, her expression unreadable. "No enchantment. Only skill."
The answer left Matthieu more curious but wisely silent.
After what felt like hours of searching, the group stumbled across their first clue: massive, deep claw marks gouged into a tree trunk. Hecate knelt beside the base, her dark cloak trailing behind her. "Géant Corbeau," she murmured, her fingers tracing the marks.
Matthieu crouched next to her, a mixture of awe and unease on his face. "Quite recent."
"Not recent enough to worry," Hecate replied, standing. "But we're in its territory now."
They pressed on, soon encountering a series of traps scattered across the area. Some were rudimentary—simple snares and nets—but others bore intricate enchantments designed to hold magical beasts.
"This isn't amateur work," Matthieu noted, inspecting a trap woven with glowing runes. "Whoever sets these knows their craft."
Mulan dismantled a particularly dangerous-looking snare with a single, decisive slash of her sword, her movements fluid and controlled. "The traps are recent," she said. "The camp must be nearby."
As they pressed forward, Hecate suddenly paused, her head tilting slightly as if listening to something beyond their range. "We're close," she said softly.
Mulan and Matthieu exchanged a glance before following her lead. A short walk later, they stopped at the edge of a clearing, their eyes landing on the camp.
Cages filled the back of the space, each holding magical beasts of various sizes and temperaments. The animals' distressed cries were muffled by layers of enchantments that shimmered faintly in the air. Surrounding the camp were tents, supply wagons, and several guards stationed at key points, their wands at the ready.
She closed her eyes, her head tilting slightly as though listening to a distant voice. The air around her seemed to grow darker, her presence more commanding.
Hecate pulled a rolled parchment from her satchel. She set it on the ground, and as her hands hovered above it, black tears began to seep from her closed eyes. The inky droplets dripped onto the parchment, spreading like veins as they formed shapes—tents, cages, guards, and enchantments.
Matthieu and Mulan watched in silence as the map of the camp came to life before them. Hecate's voice was calm but strained. "I'll need my full concentration to map everything. Keep watch."
Mulan nodded, her hand tightening on her sword, while Matthieu scanned the surroundings, his wand at the ready.
Minutes passed in tense silence before Mulan's sharp gaze caught something. A small group of poachers was making their way toward the clearing, their wands holstered and their postures relaxed. They seemed to be heading back to the camp after a break, unaware of the intruders.
"They're coming this way," Mulan said quietly, her grip tightening on her sword.
Matthieu's brow furrowed. "What should we—"
Before he could finish, Mulan moved with incredible speed. In a blur of motion, she closed the distance between herself and the poachers, the flat of her blade striking each of them in rapid succession. They fell to the ground one by one, unconscious before they could even react.
Matthieu stared in disbelief. "What… what kind of spell was that?"
Mulan sheathed her sword with a calm efficiency. "No spell. No witnesses."
Hecate opened her eyes, the black tears ceasing. Her gaze flicked to the unconscious poachers. "You dealt with them?"
"They were getting too close," Mulan replied matter-of-factly.
Hecate's eyes glimmered with approval. Raising a hand, she called upon her shadow magic. The unconscious bodies of the poachers were suddenly enveloped by their own shadows, which coiled around them like living tendrils before swallowing them whole.
Matthieu's face paled as he fought to suppress a scream. He clenched his fists and forced himself to remain silent, his mind racing with questions he didn't dare voice.
Hecate stood, rolling up the parchment. "I have the layout of the camp, including the locations of the poachers and their traps. Let's move."
On their way back to the rendezvous point, the air grew even heavier, a foreboding energy creeping through the forest. Hecate suddenly halted, her hand raised. "Stop," she said, her voice low but commanding.
The group froze as a massive shadow passed overhead. The Géant Corbeau descended from the canopy, its wings spread wide as it landed before them. The beast's size was staggering, its glossy black feathers shimmering with an almost otherworldly sheen. Its eyes glowed with an eerie light, and its sharp beak gleamed like obsidian.
The raven's presence was overwhelming, its very being radiating power and death.
Matthieu's hand trembled as he reached for his wand. "What do we do?" he whispered, his voice barely audible.
Hecate stepped forward, her gaze locking onto the raven's glowing eyes. "Stay still."
The Géant Corbeau, studying her with a predatory curiosity. Its glowing eyes reflected the forest around them—no, something beyond the forest. Within the beast's gaze, Hecate saw swirling images of shadows, ghouls, and forgotten corpses.
And then, Hecate's own eyes began to change. The air around her darkened, her pupils shimmering with a haunting glow. She stared back at the raven.
Within Hecate's eyes, it saw something far more terrible than itself, more shadows writhing like living creatures, legions of ghouls, corpses frozen in grotesque poses, and ancient horrors the raven could not comprehend. Her collection of death, decay, and darkness was vast, dwarfing the raven's own.
"Do you dare call yourself the harbinger of death," she said, her words cutting through the silence like a blade, "with such a puny collection?"
The raven froze, its wings twitching as if caught off guard by her words. The connection between their gazes deepened, a silent battle of wills playing out in the stillness of the forest.
Matthieu held his breath, unable to tear his eyes away from the scene. Mulan's hand instinctively went to her sword, though she did not draw it.
The tension was palpable, the forest holding its breath as the Géant Corbeau seemed to hesitate, its glowing eyes flickering. Then, with a sharp caw, the massive bird flapped its wings and retreated into the trees, disappearing into the shadows as quickly as it had appeared.
Hecate turned back to the group, her expression unreadable. "Let's move."
Matthieu could only nod, his mind struggling to process what he had just witnessed. Beside him, Mulan silently resumed her position, her stoic demeanor unshaken.
The forest returned to its uneasy quiet as they made their way back to the rendezvous point, the encounter with the Géant Corbeau lingering in their minds.
…
The clearing buzzed with the sounds of nature—chirping birds, rustling leaves, and the distant trickle of a stream. Taliesin's group had been the first to return, Joseph and Taliesin lounging near a log while exchanging playful jabs.
"I'm telling you, lad," Taliesin said with a grin, leaning back against a tree, "I've been around the world, and no beast is more fearsome than a particularly hungry goat."
Joseph laughed, shaking his head. "You're pulling my leg. What's it going to do, eat your shoelaces?"
Taliesin leaned forward, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Not just your shoelaces, lad—your dignity too. Ever tried reasoning with a goat? Impossible."
Aiko sat nearby, rubbing her temples. She let out a long sigh, her patience clearly frayed from hours of enduring their banter.
Taliesin leaned casually against a tree while Joseph inspected a particularly knotted piece of bark.
"You know, lad," Taliesin began, a mischievous glint in his eye, "this tree's more likely to have a career in wizardry than you. Might even beat you at a duel."
Joseph let out a loud laugh. "At least the tree wouldn't spend half the duel tuning a harp!"
Aiko groaned, already weary from hours of their banter. "Please, for the love of sanity, stop," she said, her voice exasperated but tinged with amusement.
Joseph turned to her with a mock-wounded expression. "Aw, don't be like that, Aiko. You've got to admit, we make the best team."
Taliesin grinned, adding, "Aye, lass, where else would you find such charm and wit combined?"
Aiko narrowed her eyes. "Maybe in a silent forest. Without either of you."
Taliesin and Joseph burst into laughter, exchanging an enthusiastic tap at each other's shoulder. Aiko sighed, rubbing her temples.
When Hecate's group arrived, Matthieu caught sight of Aiko and gave her a sympathetic smile. "You look like you've been through a tough battle," he said.
Aiko sighed again, gesturing toward Joseph and Taliesin, who were still chuckling at their own jokes. "Didn't think I'd see Joseph meet his own doppelganger," she muttered.
Matthieu followed her gaze and immediately understood. Watching the two jesters egg each other on, he couldn't help but chuckle. "That explains a lot."
Then Newt's group arrived, the dynamic shifted. Everyone gathered in a loose circle, their demeanor growing serious as they prepared to share their findings.
Taliesin started, recounting their exploration of the river bend. "Traps and more traps, but no permanent camp. It's a hunting ground, no doubt—set up to catch beasts as they pass through."
Matthieu took over next, gesturing to Hecate. "We located a camp. Hecate mapped it out, and it's impressive."
Hecate unrolled the parchment she had prepared, spreading it on the ground for all to see. Dark lines sprawled across the page, forming a detailed map of the camp's layout. The tents, cages, guards, and magical wards were all clearly marked. Small icons floated above each guard, showing whether they were wizards, squibs, or otherwise.
Newt leaned in, his brow furrowing. "This is incredible. You know, I once heard about four Hogwarts students who made something similar for the castle. A map that showed the layout and everyone's location within it."
"Really?" Joseph asked, his interest piqued. "What happened to it?"
Newt shrugged. "I'm not sure. It's just a story I heard from some Hogwarts alumni. No one knows what it was called or how it worked, but it's legendary among magical cartographers."
Matthieu gestured at Hecate's map with a grin. "Well, she made hers in less than fifteen minutes."
Hecate's lips curved into a faint smile. "This map only contains what I had time to detect. I can't identify individuals by name, and I'd need at least an hour to make it more comprehensive. Unfortunately, we don't have that kind of time." She tapped the parchment lightly, her tone sharp. "Still, this shows us the camp's basic structure and who's stationed where. It's enough to make a plan."
Newt nodded appreciatively. "This is more than enough to work with."
Arthur stepped forward next, recounting his ambush on the convoy. He described the landslide, the freed beasts, and the chaos it caused.
When he finished, Taliesin let out a low whistle. "Lad, next time, don't do that alone."
Hecate folded her arms, her gaze stern. "This investigation is delicate. If you'd been caught, the poachers would be on high alert, and finding the main camp could've been for nothing."
Mulan added, her tone direct, "If you'd failed, it would've jeopardized everything. Confidence is good, but overconfidence? That's dangerous."
Arthur hesitated, their words striking a chord. He realized his actions, though successful, had been reckless. He bowed his head slightly. "You're right. I got carried away. I apologize."
Elise, ever pragmatic, chimed in. "Well, you said you had a plan. Let's hear it."
Arthur straightened, meeting their gazes. "The convoy is in disarray. Their guards are occupied with recapturing the beasts, and their resources are temporarily split. If we act quickly, we can strike the main camp before they regroup."
Hecate tapped her map. "With this layout, we can plan a direct assault or a diversion."
Mulan nodded. "Either way, we'll need precision. No room for mistakes."
Newt looked around the group, his expression serious. "Let's start strategizing. If we're going to take down this operation, we need to be ready for anything."
The group leaned in closer, their focus sharpening as they began to prepare for the next phase of their mission. The poachers had no idea what was coming for them.
…
Hecate pointed to her map, where small glowing dots represented the camp's guards. "We'll strike by night. Their defenses rely on stationary wards and rotating patrols. If we time this right, we can neutralize key positions before they even notice we're here."
Matthieu leaned closer, his eyes narrowing. "The entrance will be the hardest part. Guards are stationed there, and they'll be watching for any signs of trouble."
"We'll handle the entrance," Mulan said firmly, glancing at Arthur. "Quick, quiet, no mistakes."
Taliesin tapped a point on the map near the center of the camp. "I can set up a ward here. It'll link to this map and let me track the poachers' movements in real-time. I'll relay updates through the communication spell."
Newt nodded, his brow furrowed in thought. "Elise and I will take care of the traps around the cages. Once the beasts are freed, they'll create enough chaos to cover our exit."
"Good," Hecate said, her tone sharp. "But remember, this camp has wards in place. If we're detected too soon, they'll alert their allies. I'll handle the magical traces. No bodies, no evidence."
Arthur frowned, his confidence tinged with worry. "What if something goes wrong?"
Mulan's gaze was steady. "Then we adapt."
…
The guards at the entrance leaned lazily against a supply wagon, their conversation low but audible.
"Still no sign of the convoy," one muttered, glancing down the darkened trail.
"Probably stuck dealing with another loose beast," the other replied, his wand flickering faintly with a light spell. "We're lucky we didn't get that assignment. Standing here is boring, but at least we're not wrangling angry creatures."
Their chatter was interrupted by the faint rustle of leaves. Before either could react, a shadowy figure emerged from the forest.
Back in the clearing, Taliesin adjusted the magical ward he had set up. "The guards at the entrance are in place," he said, his voice steady. "We'll take them out first."
Hecate glanced at him, her dark eyes gleaming. "Do it quietly. Leave no trace."
Arthur and Mulan moved like shadows through the underbrush, their steps silent and precise. As they neared the guards, Mulan raised a hand, signaling for Arthur to circle around.
With a nod, Arthur shifted his position, his enhanced reflexes kicking in as he stepped lightly over a fallen branch.
The guards were still chatting when Mulan struck. Her sword moved like lightning, the flat of the blade striking one guard across the temple. The second barely had time to react before Arthur closed in, his strike clean and deliberate.
Both guards fell to the ground with muted thuds, unconscious.
Hecate's magic pulsed in the air as she appeared beside them, her hands weaving through the shadows. The unconscious bodies of the guards were enveloped by their own shadows, which twisted and writhed before swallowing them whole.
"No evidence," Hecate murmured, her voice almost a whisper.
Arthur shivered slightly at the eerie display but said nothing.
Elise and Newt moved cautiously through the camp's outer defenses. Magical traps lined the area, glowing faintly with protective runes. Elise knelt beside one of the traps, her hands deftly dismantling the enchantment.
…
Taliesin's voice came through the communication spell. "Two guards heading toward the southern edge. Wizard and squib. Be ready."
Hecate nodded. "Mulan, Arthur, take them out."
The two guards strolled casually through the camp's perimeter, their wands loosely held.
"I swear, if I have to deal with another beast tonight…" one muttered, rubbing his temple.
Before he could finish, Mulan's blade flashed, striking his hand and knocking his wand away. Arthur followed with a swift strike to the squib's legs, sending him sprawling to the ground.
"Two more down," Arthur whispered, his breathing steady.
Hecate appeared, her shadow magic swallowing the fallen guards as before.
…
Newt and Elise finished dismantling the final trap around the cages. With a flick of Newt's wand, the enchantments holding the beasts in place dissolved.
The creatures, sensing their freedom, began to stir. A low growl echoed through the camp as a massive griffin stretched its wings and let out a deafening roar.
"That'll do it," Newt said, stepping back as the chaos began to spread.
Taliesin's voice came through. "That's your cue. Time to move."
The forest erupted into chaos as the group heard Taliesin's cue over the communication spell.
"Alright, lads and lassies," his voice rang out, buoyant and commanding, "take down every poacher you see. Let's show them what a real fight looks like!"
Mulan and Arthur surged forward, their swords moving with precision and speed. Poachers scrambled to cast spells, but before their attacks could land, shimmering barriers formed in front of Arthur and Mulan, absorbing the blasts.
Hecate stood nearby, her hands glowing with dark energy as she maintained the protective barriers. "Keep moving," she called out. "I'll cover you."
Suddenly, the hauntingly beautiful sound of a harp echoed through the air. The melody surged with power, filling the forest with an energizing force. Arthur felt his body lighten, his movements becoming sharper and faster. The freed beasts, still near the cages, let out triumphant cries as they too felt the magic coursing through them.
Taliesin's voice rang out again, laughing. "Go wild, all of you! Let's give these bastards a show they'll never forget."
…
Near the edge of the camp, a wagon creaked as it was hastily loaded. The leader of the poachers barked orders, his face twisted with fury.
"Get those Thestrals hitched to the wagon!" he shouted at his subordinates.
One of them hesitated, gesturing to the cages. "But, sir, there are more valuable beasts in the other cages than this troll! Why take this one?"
The leader's eyes blazed with anger. He grabbed the subordinate by the collar and snarled, "You know nothing. This isn't about value. Take whatever beasts you want, but I'll deliver this troll to our VIP myself."
He threw the man aside and climbed onto the wagon, securing the last of the restraints. "Keep the intruders busy! And if any of you survive," he added with a sneer, "I'll make sure to give the president a good word for you."
The wagon jerked forward, pulled by a team of Thestrals. It vanished into the darkness, heading north, leaving the camp in utter disarray.
…
Arthur and Mulan, their swords still drawn, regrouped with the others. Joseph stood guard as Matthieu and Aiko tended to the beasts' injuries. Nearby, Newt and Elise sifted through the wreckage of the camp, collecting any paperwork or evidence they could find.
Among the chaos, a handful of captured poachers sat bound under Hecate's watchful gaze. Arthur approached them, his voice firm. "Which one of you is the leader?"
One of the captives spat at him, his face contorted in anger. "You killed him, you sick fuck!"
Hecate didn't hesitate. With a flick of her hand, shadows erupted around the man, tightening like serpents. His scream was cut short as the shadows pulled him into oblivion.
"Say another lie," she said coldly to the remaining captives, her tone like ice, "and I'll show you how creative I can be when it comes to killing."
The remaining poachers shuddered in terror. One of them stammered, "H-he ran away! He took one of the VIP's beasts with him. Please, I'm telling the truth!"
Matthieu, uncharacteristically angry, stepped forward and kicked the man square in the chest. "And where would he take it?"
"I don't know!" the man cried, his voice trembling. "All I know is he headed north. That's all I swear!"
Arthur's eyes narrowed. "What kind of beast would your leader deliver himself?"
The poacher hesitated, then answered, "It was a troll. But it wasn't part of the organization—it was a personal order. The leader said it was for someone important."
The words hit Arthur like a lightning bolt. A troll, heading north. His mind raced, connecting the dots. It must be the troll that Quirrell would unleash in Hogwarts soon. But he kept his realization to himself, unwilling to reveal the potential connection just yet.
…
With the poachers subdued and the camp secured, the group turned their attention to the beasts. Each cage was inspected, every creature checked for injuries.
Matthieu guided a wagon into the clearing, its interior modified to accommodate the more fragile beasts. "We'll take these back to the conservation," he said, his tone resolute. "They'll need care before they can be released."
Arthur nodded, his gaze sweeping over the freed creatures. He could feel their gratitude, their presence a testament to the chaos they had endured.
Newt approached, a bundle of paperwork tucked under his arm. "We'll sort through this later," he said, his voice heavy with determination. "If there's anything here that ties this camp to a larger network, we'll find it."
As the group prepared to leave, Taliesin's harp began to play again, its gentle melody soothing the beasts and lifting the spirits of everyone present. For a moment, amidst the wreckage of the poachers' operation, there was peace.
But Arthur couldn't shake the image of the troll heading north. The battle might have been won, but the war was far from over.