HP: The Wizard Who Paints with Magic

Chapter 322 323: Alliance Reversal?! Ethan: Now the Pressure’s on the Giant Tribe

A tall, elderly giantess, leaning on a walking stick, slowly emerged from behind the rocks.

She appraised the three of them with a measuring look.

Though she was old, there was a clarity in her eyes that the younger giants simply did not have.

The young giants: "Aba aba."

After giving the three-headed dog a long, deliberate once-over, the old woman's gaze settled on Ethan.

She bent her back, her posture turning noticeably more respectful, and sighed.

"I did not expect honoured guests to visit today. I failed to keep the children in hand. My apologies."

A young giant shouted in protest, "Gran! Why are you talking to that little dried meat like that?"

He did not get to finish.

The old woman thumped him across the back with her stick, and he yelped like he'd been struck by lightning.

"Come with me," the old woman said. "The Gurg is resting."

"R-right!" Hagrid let out a breath and hurried after her.

Ethan slowly put away the card as well, lowering his voice to the three-headed dog that was vibrating with impatience.

"Do not rush. If we manage to recruit them in the end…"

Ethan's smile curved.

"Then we'll have to make sure the giants don't defect to the enemy ahead of time."

[Grrrrrr.]

The three-headed dog licked its fangs, eyes thirsty as it stared at the "great big meatballs" one by one.

The young giants who had been mouthing off instantly started walking stiffly, arms and legs moving like mismatched puppets, prickling with dread down their spines.

Ethan gave a quiet snort.

If it came to reading hearts, he was not losing to anyone.

Luna said, "If you remove the head and tail, putting a giant in a freezer might only take two steps…"

Up ahead, Hagrid silently sped up.

The three followed the old giantess under the giants' stares, all the way to the centre of the cliffside.

There lay a wide, flat circular ground, smoothed as if it had been chosen on purpose.

Ethan sniffed and looked down.

Across the stone underfoot were huge patches of dried, dark brown blood.

It looked like this place was usually used for certain… spirited activities.

Sitting cross-legged at the very centre was a behemoth, taller and bulkier than every other giant present.

Even seated, he was like a mountain planted on the earth.

Grey muscles knotted and bulged across him, hard as rock.

His eyes burned.

His face was carved with wind and hardship, and his wild beard was threaded with white.

He was not young.

He did not have to do anything.

Just sitting there in silence was enough to make the young giants who had followed shut their mouths.

So that is the leader of the giants, Ethan thought.

Then his gaze shifted to the giant beside the leader.

This one was also tall, still striking within the tribe, and clearly younger, though not as heavily built as the leader.

But his presence was different.

Less steady.

His eyes held a sharp, violent cruelty, fixed on them like a blade, and his hand kept rubbing at the huge axe bound to his waist, as if itching to use it.

"Gurg," the old woman addressed him respectfully. "They claim to be wizards sent by Dumbledore."

The moment the word "wizards" fell, the surrounding giants erupted.

"Wizards? What are those damned wizards doing on our land!"

"Kill them!"

"Peel their skins and make soup!"

"I want that dog!"

They snatched up crude weapons, stone axes and clubs, roaring with outrage.

Ethan noticed the leader's deputy was the one pushing forward at the front, eyes glittering with thick, delighted bloodlust.

Then a thunderous shout tore across the rock like a storm.

"Shut up!"

Every giant froze.

All motion stopped in an instant as they stiffly turned toward the leader, who was slowly rising.

A shadow swallowed the ground.

Hagrid swallowed, his eyes climbing higher and higher, up past the treetops.

The leader's voice rumbled down from above.

"My name is Karkus. I am the Gurg of the giant tribe, its leader. We have never forgotten our hatred for wizards, even after retreating to these mountains where there is nowhere left to run."

"But Dumbledore is different. I remember him as the only wizard willing to speak to us as equals."

"For Dumbledore's sake, I will give you one chance to explain your purpose."

"Then I will decide how to deal with you."

"Th-thank you!" Hagrid blurted. "This is a gift from Dumbledore!"

He opened the wooden box.

A magical, everlasting flame burned within — crafted to echo the giants' primal fire.

Ethan watched it a moment longer, intrigued.

A constant source of light and heat, he thought. That is a beautifully made spell.

I should get one for the Morning Star Club too.

Hang it over the entrance.

Let it blast out a million watts of light.

Make every student feel the power of "brightness" up close.

Perfect.

We'll swap it in as soon as term starts.

Still… Ethan's smile tilted. Compared to a manufactured flame, I want the most original fire the giants took from the earth's veins.

That had to be a truly precious legendary material.

Ethan licked his lips, desire sharpening.

While he was half-distracted, Hagrid was already going on about the future crisis of the wizarding world, and how even if the giants stayed neutral, they must not side with evil.

The three-headed dog yawned, bored out of its skulls.

When Hagrid finished, the leader sat in silence for a long while.

At last, he snorted heavily through his nose, arrogance of a ruler in the gesture, and waved a hand.

"Accept the gift. Arrange lodgings for them tonight."

"For Dumbledore's past kindness, I will reluctantly refrain from joining this opportunity for a grand slaughter."

Hagrid's eyes lit up.

He thanked him over and over, nearly tripping over his own relief.

Around them, the giants did not even bother hiding their disappointment.

The deputy's face darkened.

A murderous intent rose in his eyes as he stared toward the leader.

Unlike Hagrid, who had relaxed too quickly, Ethan took in every detail.

Luna said softly, "The moonlight is beautiful tonight… as if it's mourning lives that are about to be lost."

Ethan turned.

In those clear blue eyes, he caught the leader's reflection.

In the original story, it was the deputy who killed the leader, stirred up a rebellion, and threw the giants wholly into Voldemort's camp.

So it really was going to happen here too.

Ethan's mouth curved.

He raised his hand toward Luna, inviting her.

"Then would you like to witness a change of fate with your own eyes?"

Luna tilted her head, Ethan reflected in her blue eyes.

She smiled, lifted her pale, slender hand, and placed it lightly into his palm.

"I can't wait, Ethan," she whispered.

That night, they were led to a cave to rest.

The campfire crackled.

Hagrid, with a heart far too big for his own survival instincts, snored loudly, sleeping like the dead.

He had no idea.

A storm was coming.

Amid the thunderous rise and fall of snores, Ethan moved through the giants with effortless ease, slipping between shadows until he reached the leader's cave.

Deep in the broad passage, there was no sleeping leader to be seen.

Only a fire that had been put out not long ago still breathed thin smoke.

In the next instant, an unmistakable presence pressed down from behind.

"I made myself very clear. Don't wander."

The low voice rolled along the rock walls.

Ethan's lips lifted.

He turned, looking up at a gigantic stone axe stretched across the air like an executioner's blade.

"Good evening, Leader."

The giant leader, Karkus, raised an eyebrow in surprise.

He had not expected this little human to show no fear at the brink of death.

He nodded in approval.

"You have some courage. Perhaps the old woman was right. You are the master of that three-headed hound."

"But I will never allow a crawling little creature to trespass on my land!"

He lifted the stone axe high, ready to grind Ethan into meat paste.

Ethan did not dodge.

Facing a monster of that size, he looked at the leader the way an elder looks at an ignorant child, eyes cool and faintly pitying.

What a foolish, arrogant mortal.

Ethan spoke slowly, unhurried.

"You've got one thing wrong."

"The one who's about to die isn't me."

"It's you."

"What?" The leader frowned, confused.

Then came a wet, brutal sound.

A spear, drenched in fresh blood, punched straight through the leader's chest.

The leader's eyes bulged.

He twisted around in disbelief.

There stood the deputy he had trusted most.

Golgomath!

Golgomath held the spear, wearing a cruel, satisfied grin, and rasped, "You're old, Karkus. You're even willing to bow your head to wizards!"

"From today on, the Gurg of the giant tribe will be me, Golgomath!"

With a heavy crash, Karkus's huge body toppled.

Blood surged out like a fountain, and he felt his strength draining away at terrifying speed.

How could this be...

Betrayed by the subordinate closest to him.

In that moment, more than anger, Karkus felt shock.

He remembered what the little human had said: "The one who will die is you."

How did that little human know?

Was it magic?

What did that wizard want?

But it was as if the little human had vanished into thin air.

No matter how Karkus strained his eyes, he could not find him.

Until a voice, gentle yet ghost-cold, slid into his ear.

"I'm looking forward to seeing what kind of 'Gift' the giant tribe offers me."

Hagrid's gift had been an everlasting magical flame.

So shouldn't the giants offer something even more precious in return—a legendary primal fire from the earth's veins?

After all, the wizards sought their cooperation or neutrality.

But if Ethan was forced to act…

Then the giants would be the ones begging for mercy, pleading for their entire race to be allowed to survive.

In the moonlight seeping through the cracks in stone, Ethan bared his teeth in a pleased grin.

He waved a hand casually.

Under the former leader's terrified gaze, the blood gushing from his chest slowed, just a little.