Krum had still thought things were too simple.
When someone's mental defenses collapsed, they wouldn't recover in a short time.
Twelve goals, eleven goals, ten goals...
Krum had less and less time to find the Golden Snitch. Under that immense pressure, even someone as strong-willed as him couldn't help feeling a trace of despair.
This wasn't how it was supposed to go!
This wasn't how things were supposed to end!
"The score is now 130–0. Since England scored, they've been steadily widening the gap with Bulgaria."
"If Viktor Krum can't end the match before England scores again, then even if he finds the Golden Snitch in the end, Bulgaria's defeat will still be unavoidable!"
On the sidelines, both commentators couldn't help feeling a little sorry for the Bulgaria Representative Team.
Honestly, why had they gone and provoked Player Klein, of all people, when things had been going perfectly well?
Now look at them. He wasn't going after the Chasers anymore. He was going after the Beaters.
He was putting them all through the wringer.
What was the point of that?
"Go, go, go!"
Gasol and the others loved nothing more than kicking someone when they were down.
The feeling of having victory in the bag had visibly transformed their spirits.
Don't get carried away when you're ahead?
That would practically insult the advantage Boss Klein had given them!
There was no suspense left about who would win the match.
Their goal now was to batter Bulgaria's players into retirement!
"England's mounting a coordinated attack! They're moving fast. Is the fourteenth goal coming?"
"Bulgaria have lost their fighting spirit. They can't withstand England's assault at all. Pull yourselves together, lads! The match isn't over yet!"
Amid the commentators' frantic shouts, Gasol charged forward with the Quaffle, unstoppable from start to finish.