Successfully climbing onto a fire dragon's body was no simple task.
The Mithril Amulet could protect its holder from harm, but it could not grant him any enhancements.
With a thud, Draco was thrown off the Hungarian Horntail for the third time.
The first time, he had jumped up and grabbed the scales on its leg. The second time, he had climbed a few steps higher. By the third, he had reached its knee.
At this rate, perhaps he could climb into the dragon's embrace before sunset.
As for whether he could successfully take the Golden Egg, that depended on how long he could hold on atop the dragon.
Karkaroff on the judges' stand could not help yawning. Madame Maxime's attention was no longer focused on the arena, and Dumbledore occasionally looked elsewhere. Only Barty Crouch and Bagman remained intent on the man and dragon.
Draco was thrown off for the fourth time. He had already climbed up to the dragon's thigh.
Panting heavily, he brushed at dust that did not exist on his clothes and did not continue trying as he had before.
Ideals were beautiful, but reality was cruel.
Even if he used all his strength to grip the dragon's scales, it only had to shake itself a little to throw him off.
Draco had overestimated his stamina. A dragon as large as a small mountain was not a mountain, after all. It could move and fight back.
If he had not quit Vincent's endurance training halfway through, at least he would not have looked this miserable whenever he was thrown down.
While he rested, it was unsurprisingly another classic standoff between man and dragon.
Not only were the spectators in the stands booing repeatedly, but wizards across the Wizarding World lucky enough to watch the live broadcast also jeered. Quite a few hot-tempered wizards were even pointing at Draco's big face in the projection screen and cursing loudly.
Fine, he had exploited a loophole in the rules to bring a magical item. But who would have thought he could not even manage something as simple as climbing onto the dragon?
They were both fourteen-year-old young wizards, yet Harry had been able to withstand a tail strike and take the Golden Egg.
Although the injured Pheobe and Viktor Krum had ultimately failed to take the Golden Egg, each of them had put on an impressive performance.
What about Draco?
Was he showing off the power of his magical item?
Or was he showing off his pathetic stamina?
The gap was so enormous it made people's scalps tingle.
In the stands, a sleepy Vincent rested his head on Hermione's shoulder.
"So sleepy... Is this little blondie deliberately tormenting us?"
Hermione shifted a little closer to him, making his posture look less awkward. "It should be soon, right? I think the Hungarian Horntail is getting impatient too."
On the field, the dragon's tail, covered in bronze spikes, swung from side to side. Clearly, its patience had its limits as well.
It knew it could do nothing to Draco, and it also knew Draco could do nothing to it.
Vincent half-closed his eyes. "The Malfoy Family really is extravagant. A magical item like this could count as a family heirloom, yet they're using it to defend against a dragon's attacks. What a waste."
The flames breathed out by the Hungarian Horntail could easily melt metal, while the power of its tail could collapse bridges. This magical item could probably even defend effectively against Dark Magic.
Back on the field,
after Draco finished resting, he did not continue trying to climb onto the dragon.
Perhaps he understood the limits of his stamina, or perhaps he thought he looked especially pathetic whenever he was thrown down.
He raised his wand again. The movement made the dragon slam its tail into the ground, sending chunks of rubble flying.
Hungarian Horntails were renowned for their savagery and brutality. Without the Mithril Amulet, Draco would have been seriously injured and forced out long ago.
Yet its repeated restraint had only been met with ever greater provocation. Even a truly gentle Welsh Green Dragon would be especially furious by now.
One weak, powerless spell after another struck the dragon's armor-like scales. Its patience had clearly reached its breaking point.
"Roar—" The moment it spread its enormous wings, Draco revealed a sinister smile.
Enraging the dragon and taking the Golden Egg amid the chaos was his new strategy.
He succeeded. The dragon roared out all the fury it had accumulated.
But that was only the beginning. It beat its wings powerfully, whipping up hurricane-force winds carrying shattered stones.
Vincent, who had been resting on Hermione's shoulder, jolted upright.
With destructive power that could be called catastrophic, the Hungarian Horntail seemed to be more than merely enraged.
Its originally dark-gold vertical pupils narrowed into slits. Its lava-like irises faintly glowed red, and it opened its jaws to reveal sharp fangs like daggers.
Draco stood unharmed beneath the dragon's feet. The rubble swept up by the gale could not hurt him, and it did not even ruffle his hair.
"Boom!" Protecting both the dragon egg and the Golden Egg with one hand, the dragon slammed a claw down heavily.
The claw was predictably bounced away, but its immense force traveled through the Mithril Amulet's defensive magic into the ground beneath Draco's feet, compacting the earth and leaving a shallow imprint.
"Roar!" Its cry this time was especially frenzied, and the hurricane unleashed by its wings became even more terrifying.
Draco instinctively raised a hand in front of him, not daring to look directly at the rubble hurtling toward him like bullets.
The Mithril Amulet protected him once again. The next second, the dragon's claw came crashing down from above once more.
The tremendous noise made him hurriedly cover his ears. Then the bronze-spiked tail smashed down over his head as well.
The dragon's savage attacks did not harm him in the slightest, but they gradually drove the earth beneath his feet downward.
The jeers from the stands vanished instantly, and the wizards across the Wizarding World watching the broadcast fell silent once more.
When the pit had become half a person deep, the Hungarian Horntail suddenly stopped, seemingly quite dissatisfied with its own destructive power.
It clamped its mouth shut, then suddenly opened it. Wisps of white smoke rose from between its teeth, scorching rippling folds into the air.
"This is..." Vincent frowned as he looked at the dragon in the distance, its enormous mouth open toward him.
Destructive power on a catastrophic level—it had undoubtedly gone berserk.
The low growl rising from deep within its throat was unsettling. Draco, closest to it, felt his legs go weak and collapsed into the pit beneath him.
"Idiot!" Vincent stood up and shouted, "Run! Hurry up and run!"
Draco seemed not to hear his warning, staring blankly as flames that seemed to come from hell surged toward him.
The dragon's breath in its berserk state was completely different from before. The sea of flames mixed with magical energy resembled Fiendfyre from hell, continuously battering the defensive magic around the stands. The spectators behind it could clearly feel the scorching heat waves.
The five people on the judges' stand changed expression dramatically.
It had happened too suddenly. It was also a dragon gone berserk, but in terms of destructive power alone, the Hungarian Horntail on the field was clearly several levels more terrifying than the Chinese Fireball Dragon from before.
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