A New Gurg

The bright moonlight illuminated another clash on the battlefield. Loren's earlier shouts had indeed broken Crouch's psychological defenses. The Death Eater claimed he would torture him with the Cruciatus Curse until dawn, and the torrent of curses proved this. Among the dozen or so Cruciatus Curse Curses, there would be one or two curses mixed in, but there was indeed no killing Killing Curse.

Boom...

The Cruciatus Curse, imbued with intense malice, collided with spells of various colors, and the powerful Magic Power of both sides surged forth with a deep, resonant boom, like muffled thunder in summer.

As the number of impacts increased, Crouch's expression gradually became serious as he observed the other's condition. His hand gestures for controlling the wand also slowly changed, from easily pressing and holding it with his thumb, index finger, and middle finger to tightly gripping the wand with all five fingers.

The seemingly simple and brutal clash of spells concealed a subtle game of strategy. Loren's spellcasting angles appeared casual and unnoticed, yet each time he managed to perfectly collide with the oncoming Cruciatus Curse. Other scattered curses were also kept at a safe distance. Crouch, slightly impatient, tried to break through the invisible barrier between the two, but no matter how he adjusted his casting speed, the opposite spells always kept up, leaving him frustrated and annoyed.

Suddenly, Loren unleashed a pale green Repelling Charm, swift and agile, blocking Crouch's Cruciatus Curse, which he had just begun to activate, a few feet in front of him.

Crouch's eardrums tightened from the sudden explosion of the Magic Power fireworks before his eyes. The brilliant red and green light illuminated the night sky and his face, and the shock made his eyes somewhat dazed.

Loren circled his wand around his index finger, subtly closing the distance. He glanced at the Death Eater staring intently at him and chuckled softly, "Professor Crouch, why did you stop? Thinking about how to escape? Or worried about being scolded by your master when you get back? Oh, how could he scold you? After all, you treat him as—"

"Enough! You lowly Mudblood, you have no idea about my relationship with the Dark Lord. The Dark Lord and I have so much in common. We both had extremely disappointing fathers, we both shamefully inherited our fathers' names, and we both gleefully killed our fathers... We, we..."

Crouch's wand tip was pointed straight ahead, and a dazzling green light quietly emanated from it, as a spell filled with the aura of death was about to burst forth.

A blazing red beam of light pierced through his right chest.

Crouch coughed up blood, struggling to breathe. He held up his wand with difficulty, mumbling the incantation. "A... Avada..."

Loren waved his wand, and an invisible Magic Power wafted over, transforming the Death Eater, whose chest had been pierced, into a Ermine, just as he had intended to do to those students the previous school year.

Loren, who had finished the battle first, slowly walked forward, picked up the Ermine lying on its back, convulsing and bleeding, sprinkled some Gillyweed essence on it, then casually stuffed it into a glass jar with an air hole, tightened the lid, tied a straw rope to it and hung it on his hand.

The Magic Power pierced his right chest, which wasn't a fatal wound, and wizards weren't prone to infection, so he planned to take it back and give it to Dumbledore.

Loren took the prisoner into custody, seized a wand, and stood up to look at the two people facing off not far away, whose battle was nearing its end.

"Now..."

Hermione, seizing the opening, narrowed her eyes and suddenly swung her wand downwards, as if an elegant conductor were signaling the musicians to begin playing, or a general on the battlefield were ordering his soldiers to attack.

Transfiguration awakened the inconspicuous pebbles through an invisible yet close connection. The pebbles under McNair's feet suddenly came to life, as if they were plump grape seeds nurtured by Magic Power, sprouting and growing into flexible vines that enveloped McNair in the blink of an eye.

"Heh..."

McNair's face flushed red, his slightly bulging eyes filled with astonishment. The sudden burst of power pressed against his chest, forcing him to exhale the air from his lungs. He hadn't expected the fourth-year Witch to be able to block the Unforgivable Curses, and he hadn't expected that the Accio stones were actually carriers of Transfiguration.

His wrist was tightly bound by stone vines, his fingers curled up, making it difficult to exert any force, and the wand slipped from his hand and fell to the ground.

Hermione quickly stepped forward, picked up her wand, and tentatively poked the Death Eater who was firmly trapped in the stone. Seeing that he was unresponsive and had obviously fallen unconscious, she breathed a sigh of relief.

Loren glanced at the Death Eater trapped in the rocks; good heavens, its face was contorted in a grotesque grimace, its veins practically bulging. To prevent the little Witch from having nightmares in the coming days, he jogged over and stuffed another Ermine into the glass jar.

Hermione blinked at the prisoners in the jar, feeling something was off, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it. She looked up and asked, "What do we do next? Go find the Orr siblings?"

Loren tightened the cap, listening to the heavy pounding sounds echoing through the Mountainous Area: "Let's go when it's light. Now, let's find a good spot to watch the sunrise."

"To watch the sunrise..." the little Witch nodded.

Having experienced a real battle, faced undisguised malice, and defeated the infamous Death Eater, the little Witch was far from calm. She certainly couldn't sleep now; her eyes Winky with excitement.

Loren could sense that she had undergone some indescribable transformation during this battle.

The two found a flat, clean rock to sit on. Before the fog thickened, they wrapped a blanket around their shoulders, rested their heads together, and whispered about the battle they had just fought.

When discussing the Unforgivable Curses, and when discussing the control of the battle rhythm.

Speaking of the deceased Mr. Crouch.

They discussed how to tell Dumbledore when they got back, and the future development of the Giant tribe...

The dull pounding continued all night, ending just as dawn was breaking.

On the ridge west of the Depression, Loren's eyelashes fluttered gently. He was wrapped in a warm, thick blanket, and the heat emanating from his breath pushed aside the constantly floating morning mist. The girl leaned on his shoulder, her eyes closed, her breathing even, and her body relaxed. She was clearly asleep.

But as soon as he makes the slightest movement, the girl will let out a soft, indistinct, coquettish "hmm" sound.

Loren shook his shoulder, waking the half-asleep Hermione.

It was a beautiful day. The clouds on the horizon were thin, and the mist in the mountains was light. The dazzling sunlight pierced through the clouds and dispelled the mist. Before long, a round, orange-red sun rose from behind the mountain peaks. Its golden-red radiance shone between the sky and the Mountainous Area. The brilliant sunset glow covered the undulating mountains, and even the snow was dyed red.

The bright light fell on the girl's face, giving off a faint warmth, but the dazzling light made Hermione open her eyes.

She glanced at the rising sun, squinting uncomfortably. Then she looked at the face of the person beside her, bathed in the glow of the sunset, and their eyes sparkling. She felt that the scenery around her was more pleasing to the eye than the scenery on the horizon. She tightened the blanket wrapped around her and held him tighter in her arms, her expression languid.

Perhaps because the Mountainous Area are so close to the sky, the sun rises very quickly, turning from orange-red to a dazzling gold in a very short time. The clouds in the sky also drift away, leaving only a few shimmering ribbons.

Loren and Hermione were very fond of the warmth of the blanket, clutching it tightly and reluctant to let go.

"Hermione, we should head to the Giant tribe."

"Just five more minutes, just five more minutes..."

"Elder brother..."

Deep inside the dimly lit Cave, someone called out softly.

Orr's hammering of the metal helmet gradually slowed down, a hint of confusion flashing in his large eyes.

Who is speaking?

"It's Gale. Don't bother me. I'm doing something very important."

"Brother..." a softer voice called out.

Orr's fists didn't stop, and his eyes, which had been stiff from staring at one spot for so long, finally moved.

"It's Mill. Don't disturb me, I'm..."

He stopped raising his fist in the golden firelight. His body was covered in dried blood, like the sap of a balsam flower. His fists, which he had been pounding all night, were torn and bleeding, and you could almost see the bare bones inside. His head was lowered and facing a blood-soaked metal helmet. On either side of the helmet, two short giants were staring at him with furrowed brows and worried expressions.

Orr's fist twitched twice from the pain. He forced a smile at the two men and picked up the helmet with his other hand. Just as the two Half-Giant had said, it was indestructible. However, the head inside had been shaken apart by the impact, with cracks all over the skull. The flesh and brain matter had long since mixed together and turned into a puddle of flesh.

He picked up his helmet, shook off the mangled flesh, and said in a relaxed tone, "This guy is all show and no substance. He didn't dare fight back after I bumped into him."

Gale breathed a sigh of relief, while Mill looked up, his eyes still filled with worry. "Brother, there are many giants gathered outside."

"It's alright, they'll understand when they see this." Orr waved his hand dismissively, stood up, his stiff leg muscles causing him to stagger slightly, but he quickly regained his balance, picked up his helmet along with the skull inside, and walked step by step towards the outside of the Cave.

"Brother—" Mill looked at his injured right hand and tried to stop him.

Without turning his head, Orr said in a calm voice, "Don't worry, from today onwards, the fate of the Giant tribe has changed, forever and ever!"

Gale suddenly felt a little dazed. He had always felt that he was the most special one among the three siblings. His Orr only had reckless strength, while his wisdom was the more crucial and indispensable thing. But now, something seemed to be different.

He paused for a moment, then followed Orr silently, slowly walking out of the Cave.

As Orr stepped out of the cave, the intense light shone on his dried blood. In a daze, he felt that what was spreading Depression was not sunlight, but the blazing firelight. And in the firelight, there stood tall and burly giants, the most powerful humanoid creatures!

High on the mountain ridge, two small yet undeniable figures stood silently. They were the creators of the Giant tribe's new destiny, the source of his immense power.

Orr paused, his right hand, its flesh torn open to reveal bone, raised the head, stained with blood, while his undamaged left hand raised the helmet. His majestic voice echoed through the Mountainous Area:

"I, Orr, the new Gurg!"

The cold wind of the wilderness blew Depression, and even the giants who were long in a daze and had dull minds could clearly feel that something grand was rising from the giants in front of them and engulfing all the giants.

The giants looked at each other, whispered in a rough and primitive language, hesitated for a moment, and then knelt down in unison.

On a flat, open space on the Ben Nevis Mountainside.

Mill knelt beside Orr, using Bark dipped in hot water to carefully clean the deep, bone-revealing wound on Orr's hand. On a flat stone beside them sat a jar full of Gillyweed essence, emitting a faint herbal fragrance.

Loren watched Mill's actions and nodded. "It's the same from now on. Regardless of whether there's any Gillyweed essence or not, cleaning the wound promptly will help it heal faster."

Mill scooped out a little bit of the Gillyweed essence with Wooden Spoon and poured it onto the horrifying wound. Watching the pink flesh grow rapidly, he happily responded, "Mmm!"

Not far away, Gale squatted on the ground, head bowed, recounting what he knew:

"... Hagrid and Maxime headed west into the woods. When they left, they took with them a giant even smaller than me, named Grawp, who was said to be his half-brother..."

"Hagrid's... younger brother!"

Hermione's eyes widened in surprise. "Half-siblings, he, she, then his mother..."

"A female giant named Fridwulfa didn't like Grawp very much because he was only sixteen feet tall. As a short giant without family to take care of him, he was always bullied and chased around by other giants, so Hagrid took him away."

"Oh, yeah, sixteen feet would be considered short..." Hermione's expression was strange.

Loren wasn't particularly surprised. After learning the direction Hagrid had gone, he nodded, took out a Brass Disc the size of a face from his pocket, and handed it over. "Now that your matter here is settled, we're about to head out to find Hagrid and the others. You can keep this. Stamp the Letter Engraving on it to contact me. If there's any emergency, just let me know."

Gale looked at the disc, which was about the size of his fingernail, and seemed a little embarrassed.

"Stop looking, this is already an enlarged version. I'll make you an even bigger and sturdier one when I have the chance."

"..."

After saying goodbye to the three siblings, Loren and Hermione left the Depression along the rugged mountain path. Mill carefully put away the Gillyweed essence, Gale gently poked the Brass Disc with his index finger.

As Orr watched the two figures gradually disappear into the layers of rocks, he suddenly turned around and asked, "Are we Dumbledore's people from now on?"

Gale shook his head, picked up the Brass Disc, and turned to walk back into the Cave. He wanted to find a safe place to hide it.

"What does it mean that he shook his head?" Orr looked at his sister in confusion.

"We are Loren Morgan's people."

Mill's voice was very soft, like a gentle breeze.