"I'm finally safe." Basil stood before the window, thinking contentedly.
He suddenly hoped Fenrir would appear because of the light shining from the cabin.
Like other long-established wizarding families that possessed specific talents or inherited magic,
the Granger family had always been especially skilled at infusing plants with magic.
This redwood had been planted by Basil's great-grandfather.
Along with it had been planted spells for fire resistance, sturdiness, a smooth trunk, an anti-flight field, anti-Apparition, and detecting malicious intent, all growing alongside the tree.
Fanta and the other owls could fly because they bore no ill intent.
Fanta was even his own owl.
Greyback was a Death Eater. He should be able to use Dark Mist Flight—the movie version, where all Death Eaters could do it; Basil had never read the novels.
But with malicious intent in his heart, he could not reach the treehouse that way, not even on a Flying Broomstick.
The smooth trunk prevented him from climbing up by finding handholds.
Even if something went wrong, such as with the fireplace connected to the Floo Network,
Basil had a Door Key that would let him escape at any time.
And besides—
At the very instant the letter had been sent,
Gems: 510,841 (+1000) - 10000 Failed! Insufficient gem balance.
This showed that, by the world's judgment, the timeline had already undergone an enormous deviation.
It also showed that he had changed his predetermined fate.
Surviving Greyback's attack was already an established fact.
He lowered his head toward the redwood and blinked.
Crack.
An animated image of the redwood appeared on the third page of the Grimoire.
Yet it was grayish-white.
-
10000
Failed! Insufficient gem balance.
"What the hell is this?!"
Basil was startled at first, then looked the redwood up and down again.
"If it's this powerful, then maybe..." Basil placed his hand on the railing woven from branches and closed his eyes.
"I can kill him instead!"
At that moment, the redwood seemed to become his limbs.
This treehouse was his workshop, his stronghold.
His senses spread along the roots and into the deep earth.
A rhythmic vibration was approaching from afar.
"It's Greyback!"
Amplified by the redwood, his Plant Affinity gradually expanded.
Not only this redwood—the bushes and wild grass on the ground likewise became extensions of Basil's limbs and sight.
Though the intruder was still more than a hundred meters away, once Basil used the rhythmic vibration to pinpoint his general direction,
everything about the "intruder" appeared before his "eyes."
That should have been a person.
Though he ran like a beast, with pointed teeth and long yellow nails,
and occasionally let out hoarse, piercing roars,
he still had a human form.
His limbs were long, his gray hair and beard tangled together, and his loose black robes clung uncomfortably tight to his body.
As he focused, Basil could even "see" blood-tinged saliva constantly dripping from those sharp teeth.
Clearly, Greyback was looking forward to a grand feast.
He was completely different from the movie version—not a fat man with an exposed chest, receding hairline, and slight belly.
Nor was he like the one in the games.
"Tch, I never read the novels." Basil clicked his tongue unhappily.
Clearly, his advantage as a prophet in this world had been cut in half.
He had not even noticed this during the day.
He had only been focused on running for his life.
At the same time, an extremely unpleasant memory surged into his mind.
With delight in her dark brown eyes, his grandmother had told terrifying horror stories.
"Fenrir Greyback, he is the most evil werewolf. He approaches his prey during the full moon to ensure his attacks succeed. Even when the moon is not full, he bites people and has a habit of eating human flesh once a month."
"I'm the feast?" Basil's expression darkened.
"Smelling" the pungent, strange odor on Greyback—a mixture of earth, sweat, heather, and unmistakable blood—Basil raised an eyebrow. "Fenrir Greyback, you have chosen death!"
His Killing Intent stirred his magic, and abundant, fresh, natural life force began radiating from his body.
Every plant illuminated by that radiance became Basil's limbs, eyes, and ears.
Tough branches transformed into supple vines, frail wild grass became sharp, and the bushes flashed with a metallic gleam.
In his mind, the Grimoire automatically opened to its second page.
Everything was poised and ready, awaiting Greyback's arrival.
Yet even with victory in hand, Basil's left hand still hovered over the gilded sculpture of a golden book.
He was ready to return at any moment.
Drinking blood and eating human flesh were, on a magical level, acts of absorbing power.
Wizards in particular were rare delicacies.
In the past, for the sake of sustainability, Fenrir usually stopped at drinking blood.
After infecting children, he would bring them back and drink their blood from time to time.
This allowed Fenrir to possess a werewolf's physique even when it was not the full moon.
Thus, when dealing with physically frail wizards, he preferred using his body rather than his wand.
But after the Dark Lord's downfall, he had fewer and fewer opportunities to hunt wizards.
By now, there were practically none.
He could only satisfy his desires with lost orphans.
As for eating people, there was even less chance of that.
But today was different. He had received permission—an opportunity that came once in a lifetime.
That slender, tender neck, the wonderful juices that would flow when he tore open the throat, the helpless twitching.
How wonderful would that be!
It would definitely taste good!
Hehehe! Hehehe! Hehehehe!
No, he could not think about it anymore. He had to endure.
Otherwise, running would become inconvenient!
"I'm finally here."
Fenrir crouched low, the muscles in his lower body taut. Hidden behind the bushes, he prepared to leap at any moment.
He stared at the outline within the hazy light and shadows.
Fenrir's saliva continuously dripped onto his chin.
In his mind, he had already fully pictured the boy.
Brilliant golden hair, fair skin soft enough to break with a touch, azure eyes.
Under the night sky, he seemed even more alluring.
This time, it could not be like during the day!
Thinking this, Fenrir twisted his hips and warmed up.
Inside the treehouse, Basil dry-heaved.
"Little beauty, here I come!"
Fenrir roared inwardly, stretching out both hands. His long nails scraped across the bark as he tried to use it for leverage.
"Ow!" His claws, capable of slicing gold and jade, seemed to have struck a smooth mirror.
As a result, his whole body spun through the air.
He twisted at the waist, trying to use his powerful core strength to land steadily.
However, a horrifying scene unfolded.
The redwood's branches rained down like a storm, more like winding snakes lunging to bite him.
At the critical moment, beneath the crescent moon, his left leg became a blur and kicked viciously at the redwood.
The impact shifted his body, allowing him to evade the incoming branches.
Relying on pure animal instinct and his experience in hand-to-hand combat,
he found his footing—a patch of soft bushes.
His right hand slipped into his robes, reaching for his wand.
"Ah!" Fenrir could not help crying out.
The bushes behind him seemed to turn into iron thorns, slashing open his back.
The wild grass on the ground also became sharp, tearing apart his thighs and Achilles tendons.
"Blue Silver—pah, Devil's Snare Entanglement!"
A vigorous young voice suddenly rang out above his head.
Before Fenrir could question it, a blue flash streaked through the air in an instant.
Vines appeared out of nowhere in the nearby grass, tightly winding around his right hand.
They prevented him from drawing his wand and from moving his body.
Countless branches fell from above, avoiding vital areas as they pierced into his body!
They crushed his lychees!
His right hand was also torn off as the Devil's Snare vines tightened!
Beneath the towering redwood that reached into the clouds, only the werewolf's wails mixed with sobbing remained.
"Now you know who's the boss, huh." Basil curled his lips. "Call me Brother Wei—pah, Lord Granger. Tell me clearly: who ordered you here?"
"Brother Jie, no—ahhh! Lord Granger!"
Before you continue