Blue Silver Spit, Devil's Snare Entangles!

"I'm finally safe," Basil thought contentedly, standing by the window.

He suddenly wished Fenrir would appear because of the light from the wooden cabin.

Just as older wizarding families had specific talents or magic passed down through generations, the Granger family was particularly skilled at infusing plants with magic.

This redwood tree had been planted by Basil's great-grandfather's great-grandfather.

Along with it, spells for fire resistance, a sturdy and smooth trunk, anti-flight fields, anti-Apparition, and malice detection had grown with the tree.

Fenda and other owls could fly because they harbored no malice.

Fenda was his own owl, after all.

Greyback was a Death Eater and should be able to fly as black mist (a movie depiction; all Death Eaters could, Basil hadn't read the novels).

But with malice in his heart, he couldn't reach the treehouse this way, not even with a flying broom.

The smooth trunk made it impossible for him to climb.

Even if something went wrong, like this fireplace linked to the Floo Network.

Basil also had a Door Key to escape at any time.

And

just the moment the letter was sent.

Gems: 510.841 (+1000)

This indicated that, according to the world's judgment, the timeline had already deviated significantly.

It also meant he had already changed his predetermined fate.

Surviving Greyback's attack was already a fact.

He looked down at the redwood tree and blinked.

Click.

A dynamic image of the redwood tree appeared on the third page of the grimoire.

However, it was gray and white.

10000

[Failed! Insufficient Gem balance.]

"Damn, what the hell!"

Basil was startled at first, then he looked up and down at the redwood tree.

"If it's this powerful, maybe..." Basil placed his hand on the railing woven from branches and closed his eyes.

"I can counter-attack!"

At this moment, the redwood felt like his own limbs.

This treehouse was his workshop, his base.

His senses extended along the roots, reaching deep into the earth.

A rhythmic vibration was approaching from a distance.

"It's Greyback!"

With the redwood tree's amplification, his Plant Affinity ability gradually expanded.

Not only the redwood, but the bushes and wild grass on the ground also became Basil's extensions, his vision reaching out.

Even though he was still hundreds of meters away, after Basil locked onto the general direction of the approaching figure from the rhythmic vibrations.

Everything about the 'approacher' appeared before his 'eyes'.

It should be a person.

Although he ran like a beast, with sharp teeth and long yellow nails, and occasionally let out a hoarse, piercing roar, he still possessed a human form.

His limbs were long, his gray hair and beard tangled together, and his loose black robe was uncomfortably tight against his body.

As his focus intensified, Basil could 'see' that his sharp teeth were constantly dripping with bloody saliva.

It was clear that Greyback was anticipating a feast.

He was completely different from the movie version, not a guy with an exposed chest, receding hairline, and a slight belly.

He was also different from the game version.

"Tsk, I haven't read the novels," Basil clicked his tongue unhappily.

It was obvious that his advantage of foresight in this world had been halved.

He hadn't noticed this during the day.

He was too busy trying to escape.

At the same time, an unpleasant memory surfaced.

His grandmother's dark brown eyes gleamed with delight as she told terrifying ghost stories.

"Fenrir Greyback, he's the most evil werewolf. He gets close to his prey during a full moon, ensuring his attack is successful. He even bites people on nights when the moon isn't full, with a habit of eating human flesh once a month."

"I'm the main course?" Basil's expression turned grim.

'Smelling' the pungent, strange odor emanating from Greyback—a mix of earth, sweat, heather, and undoubtedly blood—Basil raised an eyebrow. "Fenrir Greyback, you've sealed your own doom!"

Killing intent stirred his Magical Power, and a rich, fresh, natural vitality began to radiate from him.

Reflected by this radiation, the plants around him transformed into Basil's limbs and senses.

Tough branches became flexible vines, slender weeds turned sharp, and the bushes flashed with a metallic sheen.

In his mind, the [Grimoire] automatically opened to the second page.

Everything was ready, just waiting for Greyback's arrival.

However, even with victory assured, Basil's left hand remained hovering over the gilded, golden book's sculpture.

He was always ready to return.

Blood-sucking and cannibalism, on a magical level, were acts of consuming power.

Wizards, in particular, were rare delicacies.

In the past, for sustainable development, Fenrir had mostly limited himself to blood-sucking.

He would infect children, bring them back, and occasionally drink their blood.

This allowed Fenrir to maintain a werewolf's physique even when the moon wasn't full.

Therefore, when dealing with frail wizards, he preferred to use his body rather than his wand.

But with the Dark Lord's defeat, his opportunities to hunt wizards dwindled.

Now, they were almost non-existent.

He could only satisfy his desires with lost orphans.

Cannibalism was even less frequent.

But today was different. He had permission, a once-in-a-lifetime chance.

That slender, tender neck, the wonderful juice that flowed when tearing open a throat, the helpless twitching.

How wonderful that would be!

It must taste delicious!

Heh heh! Heh heh! Heh heh heh!

No, he couldn't think about it anymore. He had to restrain himself.

Otherwise, it would be inconvenient to run!

"Finally, we're here."

Fenrir crawled on the ground, his lower body muscles tensed. Hidden behind the bushes, he prepared to leap at any moment.

He gazed at the silhouette in the hazy light.

Fenrir's saliva dripped down his chin.

In his mind, he had already formed a complete image of the boy.

Brilliant golden hair, fair, porcelain-like skin, and azure eyes.

In the darkness, he seemed even more captivating.

This time, he couldn't be like he was during the day!

Thinking this, Fenrir twisted his hips and did some warm-up exercises.

In the study, Basil gagged slightly.

"Little beauty, here I come!"

Fenrir roared in his heart, extending his hands. His long claws scraped against the tree bark, trying to gain leverage.

"Yowch!" His sharp claws, capable of cutting metal and jade, met what felt like a smooth mirror surface.

He spun through the air.

He twisted his waist, trying to use his powerful core strength to land steadily.

However, a horrifying scene unfolded.

Redwood branches rained down, like winding snakes lunging at him.

At the critical moment, under the crescent moon, his left leg transformed into a blur and fiercely kicked the redwood tree.

This shifted his body, allowing him to dodge the falling branches.

With pure, wild instinct and close-quarters combat experience.

He found his footing – a patch of soft bushes.

His right hand, meanwhile, reached into his robes, searching for his wand.

"Ah!" Fenrir couldn't help but cry out.

The bushes behind him felt like iron thorns, tearing at his back.

The wild grass on the ground had also become sharp, ripping at his thighs and Achilles tendons.

"Blue Silver. Pfft, Devil's Snare, entangle!"

A vibrant young voice suddenly rang out from above his head.

Fenrir had no time to question it; in a flash, a blue light streaked past.

From the grass beside him, vines appeared out of nowhere, tightly wrapping around his right hand.

This not only stopped him from reaching his wand but also prevented him from moving his body.

Countless branches fell from high above, avoiding vital spots and piercing his body!

Shattering his lychee!

His right hand snapped off as the Devil's Snare vines tightened!

Beneath the towering redwood, only the werewolf's wails, mixed with sobs, remained.

"Now, you know who's in charge, right?" Basil curled his lips. "Call me Ah Wei. Pfft, Lord Granger. Speak clearly, who ordered you here!"

"Brother Jie, no, ahhh... Lord Granger!"