Why Are Wizards Great?

On the arena floor, which resembled a living hell, Dumbledore carried away the last severely injured Dragon Tamer from beneath the dragon's very nose and handed him over to the four judges treating the Dragon Tamers in the tent.

No one could have predicted things would develop like this. The Hungarian Horntail's current state could no longer be explained by a berserk frenzy.

Dumbledore returned to the arena, frowning as he looked toward the dragon in the distance, which was recklessly spewing blazing flames.

The blood-red glow on its scales carried an ominous aura, while the black particles floating around it seemed driven by an urge to destroy everything.

Clearly, this was a long-planned conspiracy.

Someone had tampered with the dragon in secret. It would have been one thing if it had happened before it was transported to Hogwarts, but if it had happened afterward, that was truly chilling.

Dumbledore temporarily set aside the many thoughts in his mind, because the dragon had finally noticed him and fired a barrage of fireballs at him.

Such an attack was lethally dangerous to other wizards, but to Dumbledore, it did not even count as a minor inconvenience.

He merely raised the Elder Wand and drew a circle through the air before him, and the fireballs, each two or three meters wide, froze in midair at once.

Then he lightly flicked the Elder Wand, and the fireballs flew back even faster.

The dragon was struck by its own attack. Roaring, it spread a pair of enormous wings capable of covering the entire arena, flapping them as it breathed fire and creating a flaming tornado larger than itself.

But this attack was useless as well. Empowered by Dumbledore's vast magical power, the Elder Wand was like a sword capable of cleaving through all things,