Moody's Report

Thanks to reader "Chiyu5509" for the capsule. Here's an extra chapter!

A week later.

On Sunday afternoon, Dumbledore's owl delivered an encrypted letter.

Zhang Wen opened the envelope with a decoding spell. Inside were two sheets of parchment. The first bore Dumbledore's handwriting: "Alastor has returned. Results enclosed. My office at eight tonight. —A.D."

The second was Moody's reconnaissance report.

The handwriting looked as though it had been written left-handed on a bucking broomstick—crooked and uneven, with several ink smudges. But the contents were extremely detailed.

"Lestrange Old Manor. Six miles north of Salisbury, Wiltshire. A three-story stone building, its exterior walls covered in black vines. The front-door seal is intact. The back-door lock was opened with an Unlocking Charm—fresh traces, approximately two to three months old.

"Dust on the first and second floors is of consistent depth, with no signs of human activity. The eastern room on the third floor shows signs of recent use—the dust has been disturbed, and there are candle-wax remnants and potion ingredient residue on the desk. Residual dark magic detected—its frequency and intensity closely match the Glenmore Lake sample data you provided.

"A handwritten notebook was found on the desk. Its contents are a detailed operational guide to the production process of the 'Dubh-Loch Beast.' Handwriting analysis result—ninety-seven percent match with Old Nott's signature samples registered in Ministry of Magic records.

"A crystal-ball array was also discovered. Six black crystals arranged in a hexagram. Presumed to be a remote-control transmission device. The magical fingerprints left on the crystal balls match Old Nott's magical signature.

"Conclusion: Old Nott has been confirmed as the creator and controller behind the Glenmore Lake Dubh-Loch Beast incident. Direct evidence is sufficient.

"Recommendation: Act as soon as possible. The crystal-ball array remains active. He may return at any time.

"—Alastor Moody"

Zhang Wen read the report twice.

It was confirmed.

Old Nott. Ninety-seven percent handwriting match. Matching magical fingerprints. A production manual and control equipment found at the scene.

Direct evidence. Irrefutable proof.

"It's done." Zhang Wen handed the report to Artoria.

Artoria quickly scanned its contents.

"Moody is very professional," she assessed. "This report could be submitted directly to a military tribunal."

"There are no military tribunals in the wizarding world. But there is the Wizengamot—the highest wizarding court. This evidence is enough to convict Old Nott."

"When do we move?"

"We'll confirm it with Dumbledore tonight. My recommendation is this weekend. If we delay any longer, the Dubh-Loch Beast will grow stronger."

At eight that evening, in the Headmaster's Office.

Zhang Wen, Artoria, Dumbledore, and one unfamiliar face.

Alastor Moody sat in a chair beside the fireplace.

He was more terrifying than Zhang Wen had imagined. A wooden leg, a magical false eye—that eyeball rotated in its socket at a skin-crawling pace, seemingly watching every corner of the room at once. His face was covered in scars, a piece of his nose was missing, and his mouth was crooked.

He looked like a battered relic left over from a war.

Yet the oppressive presence he gave off was three levels stronger than Snape's. This man had killed real dark wizards. More than one.

Moody's magical eye paused on Zhang Wen for two seconds before turning toward Artoria—and lingering there even longer.

"You're carrying a weapon." Moody's voice rasped like sandpaper against an iron pipe. "Invisible. Wrapped in wind magic."

Artoria's expression did not change.

"Invisible Air. Your eye can see through Invisible Air?"

"My eye can see through anything." Moody's magical eyeball spun once. "Blade length, around ninety centimeters. A one-handed sword. Material—I can't tell. I've never seen metal like it."

"You don't need to know the material." Artoria's tone was calm.

Moody stared at her for three seconds. Then he did something Zhang Wen had not expected at all—he smiled.

The smile looked more like a muscle spasm on his scar-covered face, but it was undoubtedly a smile.

"I like this girl," Moody told Dumbledore. "She's got killing intent."

Dumbledore smiled without responding.

"Business." Moody's smile vanished, and his tone shifted back into military-report mode. "The crystal-ball array in the manor is still active. I added a Tracking Charm to it—next time Old Nott uses it, the charm will notify me immediately."

"You didn't destroy the array?" Zhang Wen asked.

"Of course not." There was a trace of disdain in Moody's voice, as if saying, Do you think I'm a rookie? "Alerting the enemy is the stupidest thing you can do. Let him keep controlling it. Once we're ready, we'll catch him in one sweep while he's using it."

Zhang Wen admired Moody's professionalism. This man's practical combat experience far exceeded anything he had imagined.

"The operation plan." Dumbledore cleared his throat. "Professor Zhang has already drafted one. Two lines advancing simultaneously."

Zhang Wen stood and spread the sketch across Dumbledore's desk.

"Line A—Wiltshire. Objective: arrest Old Nott on the spot while he operates the crystal-ball array. Persons in charge: Mr. Moody and Headmaster Dumbledore."

Moody nodded.

"Line B—Glenmore Lake. Objective: destroy the cursed stone at the bottom of the lake and eliminate the Dubh-Loch Beast. Persons in charge: Artoria and me."

"The key to both lines is synchronization," Zhang Wen continued. "Line A's arrest must be completed before Line B enters the water. Once Old Nott is restrained, the Dubh-Loch Beast will lose its external commands and enter a state of confusion. We'll use that window to dive to the lakebed and destroy the stone."

"How long is the window?" Moody asked.

"Based on the monitoring data, the Dubh-Loch Beast takes approximately ten to fifteen minutes to regain autonomous movement after losing its commands. Those fifteen minutes are our combat window."

"Fifteen minutes to dive to the lakebed and find a stone." Moody's false eye rotated once. "Do you know where the stone is?"

"The approximate location. The center of magical diffusion is north of the lake's center, at a depth of around twelve meters."

"Twelve meters deep, fifteen minutes. Tight."

"That's why we need precise timing." Zhang Wen said, "I suggest using Communication Lenses to maintain real-time contact between the two lines. The moment Line A completes the arrest, they notify Line B. Once Line B receives the signal, we enter the water immediately."

Dumbledore listened to the entire plan, his fingers interlaced on the desk.

"When?"

"This Saturday. Three in the afternoon—Old Nott usually operates the crystal balls at that time. Line A will wait for him at the manor, and Line B will stand by at Glenmore Lake. At 3:05, the instant Old Nott activates the array, we move."

"Agreed," Dumbledore said.

"Agreed," Moody said.

"Agreed," Artoria said.

Four votes passed.

The operation was set for Saturday.

As they left the Headmaster's Office, Zhang Wen suddenly thought of something.

"What about Harry?"

"He'll stand by on the lakeshore," Artoria said. "With a rooster and a Communication Lens. If the Dubh-Loch Beast tries to come ashore while we're underwater, he'll use the rooster's crowing to stop it."

"He'll be alone on the shore. If the Dubh-Loch Beast comes ashore—"

"The rooster's crowing can drive it back. Harry only needs to activate the signal and make the rooster crow. He doesn't need to face the Dubh-Loch Beast directly."

"In theory, yes. But what if—"

"Dumbledore said he would personally act as backup. Even if Line A finishes faster than expected, Dumbledore can Apparate to Glenmore Lake within minutes."

Zhang Wen fell silent for a moment.

"I'm still worried."

"You're always worried about everyone," Artoria said.

"Is there anyone who wouldn't be?"

"I only worry about people who need worrying about."

Zhang Wen glanced at her.

"Who needs worrying about?"

Artoria looked down the corridor ahead without turning her head.

"You."

One word.

After saying it, she quickened her pace.

Zhang Wen stood stunned for two seconds before following her.

The following week was a period of intense preparation.

From Monday to Wednesday, Zhang Wen used every spare moment to practice the Bubble-Head Charm and underwater spellcasting.

The Black Lake became his training ground.

In mid-November, the Black Lake's water temperature was probably only around five degrees Celsius. The first time Zhang Wen jumped in, he nearly went into cardiac arrest.

"Cold—"

"Keep going," Artoria said from the shore.

"It's easy for you to stand on the shore and say 'keep going'—"

"You need to adapt to cold-water conditions. Glenmore Lake is even colder than this."

Zhang Wen gritted his teeth and stayed in the water for ten minutes. The Bubble-Head Charm worked normally—a transparent bubble covered his head, allowing him to breathe underwater.

Casting spells underwater was more difficult than he had expected. Water resistance slowed the movement of his wand, and the power of spells weakened as well. He tried the Disarming Charm several times and found that its effective range underwater was only about half of what it was on land.

"Are your spells usable underwater?" Artoria asked—she was in the water now too.

Zhang Wen glanced at her.

When she had jumped into the five-degree Black Lake, her expression had not changed at all. It was as if she had jumped into a hot spring.

"The effective range is reduced by about half. But destroying the stone doesn't require long-range spellcasting—I just need to get close and stab it with a Basilisk Fang."

"The Dubh-Loch Beast's bodily fluids are corrosive. You need protection."

"I plan to cover my whole body with the Iron Armor Charm. The iron coating can resist corrosion."

"How long can it last?"

"Around ten minutes."

"Enough."

The two of them conducted several coordination drills underwater. Artoria moved ahead, using the wind pressure of Excalibur to create a barrier against the current, while Zhang Wen moved behind it.

Even underwater, Artoria was astonishingly fast. The way she moved through the water was completely different from how she moved on land—more fluid, more supple. Like a golden fish.

Watching her figure swim through the murky lake water from behind the barrier, Zhang Wen suddenly felt that even five-degree ice water was not so cold.

Probably because of the Bubble-Head Charm's insulating effect.

Probably.

Thursday afternoon. After-school tutoring.

Zhang Wen kept Harry behind alone.

"You know your task for Saturday's operation, right?"

"Stand by on the lakeshore. Rooster and Communication Lens. If the Dubh-Loch Beast comes ashore, activate the rooster signal." Harry recited it fluently.

"One more thing—if you receive an order to 'retreat,' leave the lakeshore immediately and go wait at Angus's house."

"I won't retreat."

"That's an order."

Harry pressed his lips together.

Zhang Wen crouched down until they were at eye level.

"Mr. Potter, you don't need to prove your courage. You already proved it during the Chamber of Secrets Incident. But on a battlefield, obeying orders matters more than personal heroism. If I say retreat—"

"I'll go," Harry said. He sounded reluctant, but firm.

"Good boy."

"Professor Zhang—"

"Yes?"

"Be careful."

Zhang Wen smiled.

"I will. I have the strongest knight in the world beside me."

Harry's expression became somewhat strange.

"You mean Assistant Professor Pendragon?"

"Of course."

"The way you look at her isn't the same as the way you look at other people."

Zhang Wen's smile froze for a moment.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Ron thinks so too. Hermione says it's called—"

"Mr. Potter. Ten points from Gryffindor."

"I haven't even said anything yet!"

"Preventive point deduction. Go on."

Harry left with an aggrieved expression. But as he went out the door, he secretly smiled.

Friday night.

The final night before the operation.

Zhang Wen conducted one last equipment check in his office.

Everything they needed to bring to Glenmore Lake was laid out on the desk:

Basilisk Fangs—two, stored in a corrosion-resistant iron case.

Communication Lenses—two sets. One set for contact between Line A and Line B, one set for contact between Zhang Wen and Harry.

Tracking Crystal—a backup, in case they needed to locate the Dubh-Loch Beast in real time.

Hand mirrors—two. To observe the surroundings underwater.

A rooster—one. Kept in a cage with a Silencing Charm boundary cast around it. Temporarily requisitioned from Hagrid.

Iron chain—three meters long, custom-made by Mackenzie, the blacksmith from Glenmore Village. Pure iron, with no magical enhancements. To restrain the Dubh-Loch Beast if necessary.

Zhang Wen checked every item once, making sure nothing had been missed.

Artoria walked in. She had changed into that dark blue combat suit—the same one she had worn when entering the Chamber of Secrets. Her blonde hair was tied in a high ponytail.

"Equipment check."

"Everything's in place."

"Practice the Bubble-Head Charm one more time."

"I've already practiced it more than thirty times."

"One more time."

Zhang Wen raised his wand and cast the Bubble-Head Charm on himself. A transparent bubble steadily enveloped his head.

"Duration?"

"At least twenty minutes."

"That's enough. Dispel it."

Zhang Wen lifted the spell.

Artoria sat down across from him. The two looked at each other over a table full of equipment.

"Tomorrow's the day," Zhang Wen said.

"Mm."

"Are you nervous?"

"No."

"Not even a little?"

Artoria thought for a moment.

"A little."

Zhang Wen froze. It was the first time she had admitted to being nervous.

"About what?"

"About you."

Zhang Wen's heartbeat skipped.

"Your underwater combat experience is zero." Artoria's tone was calm. "You've trained in the Black Lake for three days. Your Bubble-Head Charm is stable enough, and your basic underwater spellcasting is passable. But actual combat is different from training. If the Dubh-Loch Beast suddenly appears behind you while you're looking for the stone—"

"You'll stand in front of me."

"I will stand in front of you," Artoria repeated. "But reaction time underwater is longer than on land. Water resistance, limited visibility, altered sound transmission—these will all affect my interception speed. On land, I can reach your side within 0.3 seconds. Underwater, it may take one second or even longer."

"A one-second difference."

"One second can be fatal in battle."

Zhang Wen looked at her.

Artoria Pendragon feared no enemy. What she feared was failing to protect someone important.

In Camelot, she had been unable to protect every knight. That had been her greatest regret.

She did not want to repeat that same regret in this world.

"Artoria," Zhang Wen said.

"Mm?"

"I promise you, if anything goes wrong, I'll retreat immediately. I won't force it. If I find the stone, I'll attack. If I can't find it, I'll withdraw."

Artoria looked at him.

"You're the kind of person who says, 'I won't force it,' then charges in first. You did that at least four times during the Holy Grail War."

"I had no way out then. I do now."

"Where is your way out?"

"You." Zhang Wen said, "You're my way out. If I retreat behind you, I'll be safe. The safest place in the world is behind your back."

Artoria's fingers tightened—the hand resting on her knee, its knuckles turning slightly white.

Her expression did not change.

But Zhang Wen noticed her throat move.

She swallowed.

The King of Knights was swallowing.

"If you don't keep your promise—" Her voice was half a note lower than usual.

"I'll keep it."

"You said that during the Holy Grail War too. Then you stepped in front of Berserker's attack."

"That was an accident."

"Three ribs." Artoria said, "You broke three ribs. I carried you for two streets before reaching safety. Your blood stained my armor red."

Zhang Wen fell silent.

He had not expected her to remember so clearly. It had been a chance encounter in the middle of the Holy Grail War. When Berserker's aftershock swept toward them, he had instinctively stepped in front of Artoria—even though she had been fully capable of dodging it herself.

It had been one of the stupidest things he had ever done.

It had also been one of the most instinctive things he had ever done.

"It won't happen this time," Zhang Wen said. "I promise."

Artoria looked into his eyes. For a long time.

"Your promises don't have much credit left with me," she said.

"Then how do I make up for it?"

Artoria stood.

She walked over to Zhang Wen.

The distance was very close. About half a step.

She extended her right hand.

Her little finger was raised.

Zhang Wen lowered his gaze to that raised little finger.

In every culture in the world, that gesture meant only one thing.

A pinky promise.

Artoria Pendragon—the King of Knights who had once ruled Britain, a legendary being who had defeated countless powerful enemies—was asking him to promise to stay safe in a way only five-year-old children used.

Zhang Wen's nose suddenly stung.

He raised his hand and hooked his little finger around hers.

Their little fingers intertwined.

Artoria's fingers were cool. But the pressure at her fingertips was steady—just like the grip with which she held Excalibur, precise and unwavering.

"I promise," Zhang Wen said.

"Mm."

Their fingers parted.

Artoria turned and walked toward the door.

"Time for bed. We have to get up early tomorrow."

"What time?"

"Five. We leave at six."

"I can sleep one hour less—"

"No. You need a full night's sleep to ensure you're in good condition tomorrow."

"What about you?"

"I'll sleep too. Five hours, as we agreed."

She reached the door and paused.

Without looking back.

"Good night."

"Good night."

The door closed.

Zhang Wen stood in the empty office. The warmth of her fingertips still lingered on the little finger of his right hand.

He lowered his head and looked at that finger.

The King of Knights' pinky promise.

It was probably the most precious promise he had ever received.

It carried more weight than any Master contract from the Holy Grail War.

Because this promise had only one clause—

Come back alive.

Zhang Wen turned off the lights and went to bed.

Tomorrow.

Glenmore Lake.

The Dubh-Loch Beast.

But first—come back alive.

He had promised.

Pinky promise.