Bang! Bang! Bang!
On the grassy dueling field, Wanda's crimson whip cracked through the air with a sharp snap, striking mercilessly toward Ian.
Ian's eyes narrowed. With a swift step, his enchanted boots shimmered with a green glow, and he vanished from the whip's trajectory, retreating like a gust of blue wind. His movements were fluid, swift, and precise.
Without wasting a breath, Ian flicked his wand, sending a barrage of scarlet spells streaking through the air—each one humming with power.
The air sizzled. The fiery whip and Ian's spells collided mid-flight—Bang! Bang!—bursting into flashes of magical sparks. Wanda's whip, imbued with her chaotic magic, shattered most of the incoming attacks.
Yet, several spells pierced through—Repelling Hex! Disarming Charm! Crushing Curse!—their red flares colliding against Wanda's form.
Her enchanted robes flared with a protective shimmer, absorbing the brunt of the spells. However, the impact forced her back several paces, boots skidding across the earth. Wanda's golden eyes flashed with a mixture of irritation and challenge. She glared at Ian.
"No mercy, huh?" Ian quipped with a smirk. "Such a beauty, but completely ruthless."
Snap!
With a sharp flick of her fingers, Wanda's eyes ignited, their hue shifting into a blazing golden-red—like a phoenix reborn from fire.
The whip dissolved into countless crimson sparks, scattering into the air before vanishing entirely.
But in its place—
ROAR!
Three colossal dragons, formed from molten crimson flames, emerged behind her. Their serpentine bodies coiled and flickered, exuding waves of searing heat as they prowled the air, circling Ian like predatory beasts ready to strike.
Ian's smile faded. His fingers tightened around his wand. His emerald eyes reflected the fiery beasts. "Unbelievable…" he muttered. "Such a spell would take me hours to conjure."
The fiery dragons hissed, closing in. Their molten forms distorted the air with ripples of intense heat.
But Ian was already moving—
With a swift chant, he flourished his wand, and from its tip erupted a dense, icy white mist. The thick fog billowed outward, quickly swallowing the battlefield in a cold, obscuring blanket.
Shhhhhhhh!
The mist spread rapidly, swallowing not only the flaming dragons but also cloaking the grassy plains and a towering figure resting in the distance—a massive Ukrainian Ironbelly with pearlescent white scales.
The dragon, nestled far from the battle, stirred. Its crimson eyes flickered open. It raised its head, nostrils flaring as it caught the scents and sounds of combat—the hiss of magic, the crackle of fire.
Its gaze settled on the distant flashes of flame and the silhouettes of battle within the mist. The beast's eyes, vast and ancient, softened with a hint of nostalgia.
That human... my master...
The Ironbelly, affectionately named 'Snow' by Wanda, had only been under her care for a couple of months. Yet those months had been the happiest days of its long, tortured life.
Gone were the iron shackles and searing whips from Gringotts. Wanda had healed its wounds—both body and soul. Now, its days were filled with leisure: soaring through the skies, carrying its master on carefree rides, and enjoying the envy of passing wizards.
Best of all was the food. Fresh, rich, and tailored to its appetite—far better than the tasteless scraps from its old prison. Life felt... perfect.
But now...
The battle called.
"Snow!" Wanda's voice pierced the mist, her soul-bond command ringing in the dragon's heart. "Get over here and help me crush Ian!"
The crimson mark of the bond flared deep within Snow's spirit, urging it into action.
The dragon's massive pupils contracted. Its wings flared wide, and rows of emerald-tipped spikes bristled along its spine—signs of readiness for combat.
Its master had summoned it. And no matter how peaceful life had become, Snow would always obey.
Woooosh! Woooosh!
With powerful thrusts of its wings, the Ironbelly surged into the sky, the wind from its ascent dispersing the cloying fog.
Ian, still concealed, sensed the sudden shift in pressure. His heart sank as he felt the massive presence approaching.
"A dragon?!" he blurted. "Oh, come on, Wanda!"
Without hesitation, Ian's wand pulsed. The lingering mist thickened and coiled into tangible forms—white chains that shot toward Snow, aiming to bind its wings, tail, and legs.
But the moment those chains touched the dragon's scales—
SNAP! SNAP!
The restraints shattered like brittle glass.
The sudden sensation—chains, cold and binding—triggered a deep, primal memory within Snow. Memories of cold vault floors... relentless whips... and the agony of captivity.
Its eyes burned, but now with something far more primal: Rage.
The Ironbelly let out a deafening, thunderous roar, shaking the very air. Dark green stripes began to ripple across its white scales, and its once-pearl spikes darkened to an ominous emerald hue.
The air around it grew heavy—thick with a dragon's raw, primal power.
Then—
BOOM!
The beast launched forward, legs pounding the earth with seismic force. It tore through the fog, straight toward Ian, demolishing anything in its path. The ground cracked and trembled under its sheer power.
Ian's eyes widened. "Oh, hell—"
Crack! Crack! Crack!
The enchanted mist shackles shattered like fragile glass. Ian barely managed a teleporting sidestep, appearing several yards away, his heart pounding.
And in the distance—
"Good job, Snow!" Wanda whooped, her voice bursting with delight. She pumped her fist into the air, her golden eyes sparkling. "That's the spirit! Crush him!"
Her voice was jubilant, completely oblivious to the sheer ferocity of Snow's berserk state.
Ian, ducking and dodging through the terrain, felt his lips twitch. "Wanda!" he bellowed, weaving around another destructive claw swipe. "Did you seriously bring your pet to our duel?!"
"Hey!" Wanda shot back cheerfully, "You're the one who always says 'Use every tool in your arsenal!'"
"That doesn't mean calling in the cavalry!"
The earth trembled with Snow's furious charges, and Ian's frustration deepened. "You're unbelievable!"
Shatter to pieces! Repulse quickly!
Ian flicked his wand, firing a barrage of hexes aimed at the dragon's wings to slow it down.
But—
Zing!
The spells collided with Snow's emerald-tinted wings, and the magic fizzled out uselessly against the dragon's thick scales, dissipating in harmless sparks.
Ian's jaw clenched. "Seriously?! Its magic resistance is insane!"
Snow, undeterred, let out another fiery roar, blasting columns of searing flame toward Ian's defensive puppets, melting them into slag.
"Snow!" Wanda urged, her voice brimming with excitement. "That's it! Spit fire! More fire!"
The battlefield blazed, and Ian's retreat became a frantic scramble. His robes were singed, his brow damp with sweat. Yet, he couldn't suppress a bitter chuckle.
"This is absurd," he muttered. "First Wanda, now her overpowered pet. Where's the fairness?"
His heart pounded. He had one more option—dark magic. He knew spells that could tear into a creature's very soul.
But...
His eyes flicked to the dragon—Wanda's pride, her companion, her friend.
If he used those curses, the damage would be irreversible. And Wanda… Wanda would never forgive him.
"Tch," he clicked his tongue in frustration. "Damn it."
Then—
"Snow! Faster!" Wanda's voice rang out joyfully. "He's running! Cut him off!"
The massive dragon, still half-berserk, surged forward—
Ian barely dodged another sweep of the wings, his breath ragged. "That's it—" he gasped—"I'm done!"
With a frantic wave of his arms, he yelled:
"WANDA, CALL HIM OFF!"
His voice cracked with urgency. "I GIVE UP!"
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