The hunter shut his mouth but said nothing more. However, the men holding torches slowly began to close in. The smiles on their faces gradually morphed, overtaken by desire. The allure of the Veela bloodline had triggered a surge of hormones in their veins.
Their frenzy and eeriness far exceeded Aglaia's expectations. She had only wanted to kindly warn them to leave the area, but instead, she had walked straight into a trap. No—this wasn't just a trap; it was a descent into utter madness.
Without hesitation, she raised her wand, aiming it at the group.
"Stupefy!"
Before she could finish the incantation, a searing pain shot through her wrist where the beacon mark was. The mark planted earlier in the day burned like red-hot coal pressed against her skin. The sudden agony made her lose her grip on the wand, interrupting the spell.
A grown man stomped down on her wrist, pinning it to the ground. Several others lunged at her.
Aglaia jabbed an elbow into the chin of the male witch, hitting him so hard that blood gushed from his nose. She broke free and scrambled toward her wand with all her might.
But the wand was kicked aside.
The hunter from earlier stepped forward, his foot knocking the wand away. He grabbed her throat with a firm grip.
"You promised me," he said with a chilling calmness. "You said you'd share what you have with us."
"Go to hell!"
Aglaia spat in his face.
Unfazed, he wiped the spit from his cheek and licked his finger, his expression a bizarre mix of desire and tranquility.
"Why resist reproduction?" he asked as if discussing a mundane topic. "Why deny the joy the heavens have bestowed? Isn't that what life is for?"
"You're insane!"
A murderous glint flashed in Aglaia's eyes. Clenching her teeth, she pressed her tongue to the roof of her mouth and let out a sharp whistle.
"Fweeeet!"
The moment the sound echoed through the forest, the hunter slammed her down into the snow, ready to tear at her clothes.
Suddenly, the sky darkened.
A shadow passed overhead.
In an instant, the hunter's head was severed cleanly, as though sliced by a razor-sharp blade. He froze in his grotesque pose of aggression.
Two seconds passed before blood erupted from his neck like a fountain, shooting nearly two feet high.
Aglaia broke free from the grip of the now-headless corpse, spat a mouthful of blood onto the ground, rolled forward, and snatched up her wand. Covered in blood, she pointed it at the surrounding crowd, her body trembling.
Dead silence.
Thud.
The hunter's decapitated body fell into the snow, its neck spraying warm blood that quickly turned the ground crimson, like a grotesque, dirty rose.
Boom!
A massive creature, over six meters long, descended from the sky and landed in the snow. It held the hunter's lifeless head in its jaws. Shaking off the snow on its brown scales, it exhaled a puff of scorching white mist.
With a crunch, its jaws snapped shut, crushing the man's skull. White brain matter mixed with blood spattered from its mouth.
It was the Hungarian Horntail.
The monstrous dragon fixed its merciless gaze on the crowd.
The men, who had donned their bizarre and revealing outfits, froze in terror. Someone screamed, and the group scattered like frightened birds.
The Horntail raised its head and let out a deafening roar.
Within moments, a dozen dragons emerged from the forest, encircling the area like expert hunters. They left no room for escape.
In the face of the dragon pack, the witches and wizards were utterly defenseless. Most didn't even draw their wands. They simply screamed as they were mercilessly devoured.
The screams faded within minutes, replaced by the sickening sounds of the dragons feasting.
Amid the carnage, only the Horntail stood still. Unlike the others, it neither ate nor hunted. Instead, its amber-yellow eyes coldly scrutinized Aglaia.
Aglaia, though saved, felt her heart sink.
She had intended to summon the Green Dragon for assistance—perhaps the Short-Snout in the worst-case scenario. But the Horntail had arrived instead, bringing the entire dragon pack.
While it had seemingly rescued her, Aglaia knew the truth: this was no act of loyalty. The Horntail was asserting its dominance and testing her.
And now, in her battered and humiliated state, she knew the dragons doubted her worthiness as their leader.
The command to hunt and feed had not come from her this time.
As the dragons finished their feast, the Venomous Dragon fluttered back with a chunk of intestines clutched in its jaws. It perched on a branch, while the Albino Fang, its mouth dripping with blood, settled near the Horntail's legs. The others, each holding a limb or other remains, gathered around the Horntail.
They exhaled hot white mist from their nostrils, their eyes full of doubt, questioning whether this bloodied and trembling girl before them was truly fit to lead.
A gust of hot air swept over Aglaia's back. Without turning, she knew her Green Dragon was standing behind her.
But this time, it did not stand beside her to challenge the Horntail. It, too, was filled with doubt.
The mask Aglaia had worn to maintain control had shattered. The situation had spiraled far beyond her expectations, far more dangerous than facing the deranged villagers.
Aglaia stood motionless, her eyes locked onto the Hungarian Horntail.
The Horntail licked its razor-sharp teeth and slowly stepped out from the group.
Its intentions were clear—it was challenging her for leadership of the pack.
Aglaia nearly cursed aloud. If not for her intervention, this creature would have died long ago in that dark cave, along with the adult black dragon and its fireballs.
Yet now, it was challenging her for the position of dragon pack leader, possibly even intending to kill her. The absurdity of it all was almost too much to bear.
The Horntail began to move forward, and the other dragons gradually spread out. As creatures of instinct, they recognized this as a battle for leadership—one that would either result in a new alpha or the challenger being punished by the reigning leader.
A duel was inevitable. Aglaia knew she stood no chance against the ambitious Horntail, not in her current state after weeks of grueling travel.
She took a step to the left and raised her wand. A blasting curse shattered the ground, sending snow flying everywhere. Without hesitation, she turned and bolted, not daring to look back.
The Horntail, now exhilarated as though injected with adrenaline, charged through the smoke, releasing a ten-meter-long stream of dragon fire.
Roar!!!Flames lit up the snowy night as Aglaia threw herself flat onto the ground, narrowly avoiding the deadly breath.
Huff! Huff!
The Hungarian Horntail stomped through the snow, twisting its massive body in excitement as it ran past Aglaia without noticing her motionless form lying in the snow.
Aglaia watched the swaying tail pass overhead, her heart pounding like a drum. Once the dragon had run ahead, she scrambled to her feet and sprinted in the opposite direction.
The Horntail heard her movement. It spun around abruptly, flapping its wings and unleashing a fan-shaped wall of fire—far more intense than its previous breath.
Damn it!
Aglaia wanted to cry. All she could do was run desperately. The Horntail opened its bloodstained maw, snapping at her head. To it, this young girl was no different from the hunter it had just devoured.
As the dragon's jaws closed in, Aglaia drew a dagger and swiftly cut off her waist-length silver hair. Ducking low, she scrambled and rolled through the woods like a Muggle fleeing for their life.
But just as she escaped the underbrush, she found herself facing a cliff—over a hundred meters high.
She turned, only to see the Horntail crashing through the trees, breaking countless trunks as it charged toward her with unbridled enthusiasm. Its amber-yellow eyes stared unblinkingly at her.
The other dragons gathered as well, like spectators at a live show. This duel's outcome mattered greatly to them—it would determine their future leader.
Aglaia's mouth tasted bitter as she looked at the dragons.
Was it all over? She regretted saving these ungrateful beasts in the first place.
The Horntail saw victory within reach and let out an arrogant roar.
But at that moment, a spell shot through the air like lightning, striking the triumphant Horntail and sending it tumbling to the ground.
The dragon rolled over, barely able to get up before a man Apparated near its neck. With two fingers pressed together, he struck the Horntail's neck with quick, precise force. The one-ton beast rolled over again, crashing heavily into the snow.
Dazed by the sudden assault, the Horntail rose cautiously, watching the man with newfound wariness.
The man raised a finger to his lips. "Shh."
For a moment, man and dragon locked eyes. The immense psychic force emanating from the man caused the Horntail to shudder and crouch low, its earlier defiance entirely gone.
The man's spirit and will utterly dominated the scene.
The other dragons, silent now, lowered their heads and lay on the ground like obedient dogs.
Aglaia stared at the figure in shock. She had seen her father tame dragons and could easily distinguish a master from an amateur. This man wasn't just skilled—he communicated and battled with dragons using pure willpower and energy. He was undoubtedly an expert.
After subduing the Horntail, the man turned to Aglaia. He had black-and-white hair, blue eyes, and wore a high-collared coat.
Family! Aglaia's eyes lit up. Without hesitation, she threw herself into the man's arms, overwhelmed with emotion and on the verge of tears.
"Jacob!"
The man seemed startled by her actions. He looked down at the girl clinging tightly to him, his hands awkwardly hovering, as if this embrace was more terrifying than the dragons.
After a few seconds, he twitched his lips, awkwardly patting Aglaia's silver hair.
"What are you doing here? I've been looking for you," he asked.
"My father is injured," Aglaia said, her eyes red. "He might die."
"I see," the man replied softly. "Take me to him. It's been years since I last saw him."
"Alright, alright."
Aglaia nodded, wiping her eyes before leading the way. The dragon pack followed closely behind.
Rescued by family, the weight on her chest lifted, and her mood improved. As they walked, she asked, "Jacob, you can tame dragons too?"
"I know a little, but I'm not as skilled as your father," he replied modestly.
"Really?"
Aglaia didn't think much of it.
When they returned to the abandoned cabin, Fatir had woken up. Unaware of the chaos outside, he sat weakly by the fire, changing his bandages.
Aglaia pushed open the door and hurried to his side, taking over the task of reapplying his dressings.
"Uncle Jacob is here," she said while working.
"Who?"
Fatir froze.
"Jacob. We're saved."
Bohan?
Fatir looked up in astonishment, seeing the man standing motionless at the door like a statue. The wind and snow outside seemed to intensify.
(End of Chapter)
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