Harry Potter: I am the Legend

After a round of frenzied attacks, the giant finally ran out of strength. Its eyes burned with frustration as it let out low, guttural growls, stomping restlessly on the ground.

From within the smoke, a few Squib soldiers cautiously emerged, weapons raised and aimed at Hoffa, ready to strike him down at any moment.

Hoffa remained unmoved. He was waiting.

The giant snarled a few more times before once again lifting the tank barrel in its hands. This time, it swung it horizontally, hurling the massive cannon like a club. Hoffa seized the opportunity, swiftly dodging in an arc.

The soldiers setting up machine guns barely had time to curse before the flying tank barrel smashed into them, sending them and their weapons tumbling backward in a domino-like cascade.

With the soldiers injured, the giant, now completely enraged, charged toward Hoffa, raising the cannon in its hands to smash down on him. It seemed unaware of the weapon's true purpose.

Hoffa still didn't strike back. His body swayed left and right in erratic, drunken movements, narrowly evading the giant's attacks again and again.

BOOM!!

Whether by accident or triggered by some unknown mechanism, the cannon in the giant's hand suddenly fired a shell, which exploded upon hitting the ground.

At that very instant, Hoffa leaped high into the air, his body flipping upside down before he latched onto the edge of the cannon. As the giant swung its arm, Hoffa moved along with it, tracing a half-moon arc through the air. Like a serpent, he maneuvered onto the giant's arm.

The giant's hungry eyes turned red with rage upon seeing Hoffa standing on its arm. It opened its massive, bloodstained mouth and lunged forward to bite. But before it could sink its teeth into its own flesh, Hoffa pushed off with his legs, soaring onto the giant's shoulder.

The giant's jaws clamped down on the steel barrel, shattering its own teeth with a sickening crunch.

Howling in agony, it thrashed its head wildly. Its arm, still clutching the embedded cannon, flailed desperately in an attempt to shake it off. But the weapon was lodged too deep, the reinforced steel having pierced straight into its bones. No matter how violently it flailed, the cannon remained stuck.

Hoffa had yet to make a single attack. Standing atop the giant's shoulder, he grasped the circular earring on its ear, letting the beast rage and thrash. He didn't know how long it went on, but eventually, the giant began to tire. Panting heavily, it glared at its own shoulder and reached out with its only intact hand to grab Hoffa.

But Hoffa simply leveled his cross-shaped sword, resting it against the giant's thick neck.

Compared to the giant's massive frame, Hoffa's blade seemed delicate and small. Yet its razor-sharp edge was undeniable. With the faintest touch, a thin wound split open on the giant's throat.

Though crazed by hunger, the giant hesitated in the face of death. It froze, hand outstretched, gasping for breath, not daring to move an inch.

"Have you seen enough?"

Hoffa stood on the giant's shoulder, shouting at the Squib soldiers hidden in the smoke.

The soldiers hadn't expected Hoffa to speak to them at a time like this. Warily, they peeked out, their uneasy gazes fixed on him. The fear in their eyes reminded Hoffa of a pack of rats.

"Why have you abandoned your identity as wizards?" he demanded. "Why do you serve the Muggles?"

No one answered.

Then, from somewhere unseen, a voice shouted back, "What do you even know about the wizarding world, Bach? Some are born with magic, and some aren't. Some are pureblood, and some are filthy mudbloods! It's unfair from the very start! If there is no magic, then let no one have magic! And if magic must exist, then let everyone have it! What is this half-baked nonsense we live in?"

Others echoed the sentiment.

One Squib soldier stepped forward, pointing furiously at Hoffa, his voice hoarse from rage. "How are we any lesser than you? Why, when magic fades, do you still have it while ours vanishes completely?"

"Forget him! The age of wizards is over!" another soldier declared. "A new god has been born! Relics of the old noble era like you should be swept into the dustbin of history! We don't need magic anymore!"

Hoffa glanced at the massive tank barrel embedded deep into the giant's back, the metal burrowing so far into its flesh that it had begun grinding against the exposed vertebrae.

"So, what you're pursuing is noble, is it?"

His voice was calm as he eyed the giant's festering wounds.

"We have conviction, we have purpose, we have vast resources and strength! We stand on the right side of history, Hoffa Bach! If you join us, we can build the ideal kingdom together!"

The voices surrounded him, stabbing into his mind like needles.

Once, perhaps for a fleeting moment, he had sympathized with these thoughts. Once, in a dream, under the coercion of that gray-haired man, he had even briefly agreed with such absurd notions. But what awaited him afterward was nothing more than the same endless cycle.

Now, faced with these believers once again, there was no sympathy left in him.

"I see."

His voice was indifferent. "Then I'll fight for my cause, and you fight for yours."

The sword pressed slightly lower, its edge grazing the giant's artery.

"If you kill them," Hoffa said, "I will set you free."

The giant's massive, earth-toned eyes locked onto the young man on its shoulder. It couldn't understand his words, but something in those dark eyes spoke to it—something primal, something that transcended language.

A deep, guttural whimper escaped its throat.

Then, suddenly, the giant crouched low, raising the cannon in its grasp and aiming it at the soldiers. With a thunderous roar, flames burst from the barrel, obliterating the defensive structures they had secretly built.

The soldiers, stunned by the sudden betrayal, panicked. They hadn't expected Hoffa to turn the giant against them with just a few words. Terror-stricken, they abandoned their weapons and fled in every direction.

The giant let out a grating, guttural laugh and continued its assault.

After exhausting its ammunition, it even grabbed the remaining shells from its back and hurled them at the scattering soldiers. The deafening explosions echoed across the barren landscape, carrying for miles. Under the relentless bombardment, tanks and armored vehicles were reduced to twisted scrap metal.

Standing atop the giant's shoulder, Hoffa gripped its earring, swaying slightly in sync with the beast's movements.

If it were in the past, he might have felt uncomfortable witnessing such a brutal scene. However, after enduring the trials of his nightmares, he realized that he no longer cared about the sight of blood and carnage. The things that once repulsed him had suddenly become acceptable.

Round after round of bombardment vented the giant's frustration. It didn't know how many times it had plowed the ground or how many shells it had fired. Only when the smoke was completely swept away by the shockwaves of the explosions did it finally tire out, collapsing onto the ground, panting heavily.

With a flash of his sword, Hoffa severed the heavy cannons mounted on the giant's back, along with the ones embedded in its arms. Though the process was painful, the moment those heavy cannons hit the ground, the giant couldn't help but dance around in joy.

It crawled beside Hoffa, poking him with a finger as if trying to befriend him. But Hoffa had no interest in communicating with the giant—he simply walked toward Hogsmeade.

Before he had taken a few steps, a group of people approached from a distance. The giant quickly ran behind the discarded cannons, lifting the empty tubes onto its shoulders once again.

Hoffa raised his cross sword as well, but as the group drew closer, he sheathed it and stood silently in place, waiting.

The newcomers were a group of hunters armed with bows and arrows. Leading them was none other than Aberforth Dumbledore, the younger brother of Albus Dumbledore. He was still wearing his rugged fur coat, but compared to their last meeting, his arm was now wrapped in bandages, and his face bore several new scars.

Despite that, Aberforth was visibly thrilled to see Hoffa and the giant following behind him. Without hesitation, he slung an arm around Hoffa's shoulders and said warmly, "Look at this, Hogwarts' top student! You've finally sobered up. Last time, you looked half-asleep, but now you're a real man. Those traitors deserved to be blown to pieces!"

Hoffa wasn't used to Aberforth's enthusiastic nature and shifted slightly to the side.

The rest of the group wasn't as composed as Aberforth. The adult wizards managed to keep their cool, but among them were several younger wizards who paled at the gruesome sight before them.

"Hoffa, senior…"

A soft voice called out.

Hoffa turned his head and saw a young girl with a youthful face. She wore an old, earth-toned school robe with a badger emblem on it—she was a Hufflepuff student. Standing beside her were several other students from different houses, all looking at Hoffa with a mix of awe and unease.

"Senior, did you… kill all these people?" she asked.

"So what if I did?" Hoffa responded indifferently.

A collective gasp came from the young wizards, followed by hushed whispers.

"Silence!!"

Aberforth, still with an arm around Hoffa's shoulders, roared at them. "A bunch of spoiled brats coddled by their older siblings! Have some backbone, will you? Learn from this! Otherwise, with people like you, you'll never reclaim Hogwarts, not even in your dreams!"

With that, he clapped Hoffa's shoulder forcefully and said without hesitation, "The Squib soldiers who held us off for a month—wiped out by you in just a few moves. Truly, the pride of Ravenclaw! Among this year's students, you're the only one worth mentioning. The rest? Not even worth talking about."

Hoffa thought to himself that he wasn't even at a tenth of his peak strength. If this had been a year ago, he wouldn't have even bothered dealing with these soldiers. Now, he was being praised for killing a few Squib soldiers—it only made him lament how much he had fallen.

He responded flatly, "The giant did the bombing. It had little to do with me."

Aberforth, however, didn't stop there. He continued speaking excitedly, "Puddalo was captured by them. We were just about to launch a rescue mission, but you went ahead and got him out! Hey, Puddalo, what happened to you?"

The giant let out a low wail, baring its teeth and pointing to its mouth, where several teeth had been knocked out. It whimpered non-stop.

"Give him something to eat," Hoffa said, glancing at the giant. "Even I feel hungry just looking at him. Those Squibs must've starved him."

The moment Hoffa glanced at him, the giant—Puddalo—immediately covered his mouth and stopped making a sound.

"Of course, of course. Not just the giant—you too."

Aberforth added, "Those bastards have been harassing Hogsmeade for far too long. Driving them out is a victory worth celebrating. Bach, you came just in time. Let's go to the Hog's Head Inn and throw you a welcome feast!"

Hoffa had no interest in any kind of feast. The last time he left Hogwarts, Miranda had been with Sylby, and there was still the Nightmare God inside Hogwarts.

He was worried about Miranda's safety, as well as the situation inside Hogwarts. If the Nightmare God was still there, with his current level of strength, charging in recklessly would only mean walking straight into death.

"How is the school? Have you made it inside?"

Hoffa asked Aberforth.

"No."

Aberforth admitted, "The school gates have been completely sealed shut—no one can get in. Even the secret passages are blocked. We couldn't find a way in, so we had no choice but to set up camp in Hogsmeade. But in a way, that's good news. There wasn't much magic left inside Hogwarts before, and even the doors were falling apart. Now that the gates are sealed tight, it means magic has returned."

Listening to Aberforth's words, Hoffa felt deeply uneasy.

He knew very well who had sealed the gates of Hogwarts.

What would happen to Miranda, trapped inside with that monster?

Now that he was so close to Hogwarts again, with his strength so diminished, if the Nightmare God came after him once more—could he escape this time?

(End of Chapter)

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