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Heavy is the Crown (Harry Potter) Chapter 129: Manticore in the Forbidden Forest (2)
🕑 Added 2025-12-22 14:15:21 +0000 UTC[Third Person Pov]
Arthur dropped down from the thick, gnarled tree branch above, landing in a low crouch as dried leaves scattered beneath his boots. One hand instinctively rose to his chest, and at his side his grimoire shimmered into existence. The ancient tome hovered beside him, its cover vibrating softly as pages flipped wildly in an unseen wind, glowing with a steady pulse of arcane light as Arthur activated his spell.
[2nd Tier Spell: Strengthening]
Warm power surged through his muscles, tightening his grip around his sword as his body felt lighter, sturdier—ready.
With a deafening screech, the manticore unfurled its massive bat-like wings, the leathery membranes snapping open as it kicked off the forest floor and launched itself into the air. Its shadow swept across Arthur just before it descended upon him in a deadly pounce.
A massive paw slashed downward.
Arthur barely had time to react. He twisted his wrist, angling his blade just in time to deflect the strike. The sheer force behind the blow sent him skidding backward, boots tearing furrows through the dirt. He let the momentum carry him into a controlled roll, springing back to his feet in a single fluid motion, sword raised defensively.
“There’s nothing I love more than hunting—” the beast snarled mockingly as it landed, claws digging into the earth.
Arthur didn’t answer. Instead, he invoked another spell, arcane symbols briefly flashing across his skin as his grimoire responded.
[2nd Tier Spell: Haste]
Energy surged through his legs, his senses sharpening as the world seemed to slow around him. His speed increased by nearly half, and without hesitation he charged forward, sword held low, refusing to give the manticore time to finish its taunt.
But the manticore was no fledgling monster. This was a fully grown predator—honed by countless hunts. Its instincts were razor-sharp, its agility and strength terrifyingly refined.
It leapt backward with surprising swiftness, narrowly avoiding Arthur’s strike, and immediately followed up by snapping its scorpion-like tail forward. The barbed stinger sliced through the air like a scythe. Arthur raised his blade and deflected it, his arms shuddering from the impact. He frowned—despite its appearance, the tail was unnaturally dense and resilient.
The beast pressed its advantage. Claws lashed out in rapid succession, forcing Arthur into a defensive rhythm. Steel rang sharply against chitin and talon, the echoes of their clash carrying through the otherwise empty forest.
High above, Merlin sat perched atop her floating staff, observing silently. She was utterly imperceptible to the manticore, her gaze sharp as she analyzed every movement.
“Be careful, Art,” she warned quietly, her voice reaching only him. “Keep your distance, and stay aware of your surroundings. And remember—manticores are built to hunt. Every inch of its body is muscle and power. Don’t delude yourself into thinking you can overpower it with brute force alone.”
As if to punctuate her words, the beast roared and lunged forward.
Arthur leapt backward, rolling across the ground as claws tore through the space he’d just occupied. Planting one hand against the earth, he channeled mana downward.
[2nd Tier Spell: Earth Spike]
The ground erupted violently. Jagged pillars of stone and hardened soil burst upward, piercing into the manticore’s torso. The creature howled in pain, its roar shaking the trees as it beat its wings and forced itself into the air.
Arthur grimaced. The attack hadn’t fully impaled the beast—the hide was too thick—but the blow had left deep bruising beneath its fur.
Raising his sword overhead, Arthur gathered mana once more and brought the blade down in a powerful arc.
[Freezing Slash]
The temperature around him dropped instantly. Frost crept across the forest floor as a pale-blue crescent of icy energy tore through the air toward the manticore. Startled, the beast twisted its body at the last possible second, narrowly evading the freezing blade. It instead hit a tree, leaving a large cut with its edges frozen and glistening with ice.
When it turned back toward Arthur—
He was gone.
The manticore circled between the trees, wings stirring the branches as it searched, eyes darting wildly. Then, without warning, glowing magic circles manifested in the sky around it, locking into place.
A shrill cry split the air as thunderbolts erupted from the circles, slamming into the creature from all directions. It screamed—an inhuman, distorted sound—as its body was blasted from the sky, crashing violently into the forest below.
Dust and leaves filled the air.
Moments later, the manticore rose to its feet. Its fur was slightly singed, smoke curling from its hide as it shook its massive head, clearly shaken but far from defeated.
Suddenly, it jumped back, sensing movement directly in front of it.
Arthur’s camouflage spell dissolved as he appeared mid-swing, bringing Caliburn down in a lethal arc. The blade didn’t fully land—but it was enough. The sword sliced cleanly across the manticore’s face, carving through one eye.
Blood erupted instantly.
“RAAAHHH!! YOU BRAT!” the manticore roared, its scream breaking into a whimper as crimson droplets poured down its face, staining its fur and splattering across the forest floor. “You took my eye!!”
Blinded by pain and fury, it lunged at Arthur with murderous intent, swinging wildly with claws and tail alike.
“So you’ll repay it with your life!!”
Arthur reacted instantly, mana surging outward as he hastily conjured a defensive spell.
[2nd Tier Spell: Barrier]
A translucent wall of force snapped into existence just in time—but it wasn’t enough.
The manticore slammed into it with unrestrained fury. Cracks spiderwebbed across the barrier’s surface before it shattered completely, fragments of light bursting apart like glass. The impact sent Arthur hurtling backward through the air. He crashed violently into a thick tree trunk, the breath driven from his lungs as pain exploded through his back and chest.
“Agh—!” Arthur cried out, vision blurring as he slumped forward.
The beast gave him no reprieve.
With a savage roar, the manticore pounced toward him. Arthur forced himself to move despite the burning ache in his ribs, rolling clumsily to the side as he tried to escape. He was a split second too slow. Long, hooked claws raked across his upper arm, tearing through cloth and flesh alike.
“Ugh…” Arthur groaned, gritting his teeth as he staggered and glanced down. His sleeve was shredded, soaked crimson as blood slid freely down his bicep and dripped from his fingertips.
He attempted to gather mana, beginning the familiar process of activating his healing spell—but the creature was already upon him again. Its presence crushed his focus, breaking his concentration and forcing him to abandon the cast. Arthur raised his sword defensively, bracing himself with an injured arm as claws and fangs came crashing down once more.
High above, Merlin watched the exchange unfold without a flicker of emotion. Seated calmly atop her staff, she observed as Arthur and the manticore clashed relentlessly, each inflicting wounds upon the other. Spell met claw, steel met hide, neither willing to yield.
Arthur’s body quickly began to show the toll of the battle. Deep lacerations scored his arms and torso, dark bruises blooming where he’d been slammed into trees and hurled across the forest floor. His breathing grew heavier, strained—but he did not slow.
Magic flared across the forest in violent bursts. Spells of countless variations streaked through the air, all converging on the manticore. Flames scorched its fur, frost crept across its limbs, torrents of water slammed into its body only to be followed by crackling arcs of lightning that coursed through its muscles.
From Merlin’s vantage point, explosions of light and mana reflected sharply in her eyes. A towering pillar of fire erupted upward, roaring as it surged toward the treetops and cast flickering shadows across the battlefield.
With a furious, bone-rattling roar, the manticore burst through the flames. Its wings were scorched, holes burned clean through the leathery membranes, glowing embers spreading as it beat them desperately to stay upright.
Arthur barely had time to react.
He brought his sword up horizontally just as the beast lunged, its massive jaws snapping shut around the blade. The force of the bite shoved Arthur backward, pinning him against a tree. A strained grunt escaped his lips as his boots dug furrows into the earth. His forearms trembled violently as he fought to keep the blade from snapping—or his grip from failing.
Blood streamed down from a gash on his temple, trickling into his eyes and staining his vision red. His clothes were torn and hanging in tatters, his body battered and bleeding.
Yet his eyes burned fiercely.
They shone with raw magic and unyielding willpower.
The manticore’s tail suddenly shot forward, aiming to impale him. Arthur twisted sharply to the side, wrenching his blade upward as he moved. The edge of Caliburn carved brutally through the corner of the beast’s jaw, slicing it open wide as the tail missed its mark and speared into the tree behind him with a thunderous crack.
The manticore shrieked in agony, its maw split unnaturally wide, blood pouring freely as it recoiled.
Arthur didn’t hesitate.
He pivoted into a half-turn, facing the beast fully, and raised his sword high. With a powerful downward swing, he brought Caliburn crashing onto the tail embedded in the tree.
The blade cut through the thick, muscular appendage in a single, clean stroke.
Blood erupted like a fountain, spraying across the battlefield and drenching both Arthur and the manticore alike as the severed tail hung limply on the tree bark.
“ARGGHHHHH!!”
The manticore roared in blind agony, instinct taking over as it retaliated the moment it freed itself—though it came at the cost of its severed tail. With a furious bellow, it lashed out with a vicious double swipe.
The first blow struck Arthur’s sword, knocking Caliburn clean from his grasp and sending the blade spinning end over end through the air. The second claw followed immediately after, slamming into Arthur’s chest with crushing force. He heard it before he fully felt it—a sharp, sickening crack—and then the pain exploded through his ribs, stealing the air from his lungs and hurling him backward.
Arthur hit the ground hard and tumbled uncontrollably. He rolled once… twice… again… until at last he slammed one hand into the earth, forcing his body to twist and spin as he used the momentum to break into a rough, desperate stand. The motion ended with him dropping to his knees.
Both hands flew to his chest as he coughed violently, each rasping breath sending lances of pain through his broken ribs. He clamped a hand over his mouth, his face twisted in agony.
When he pulled it away, his glove was soaked crimson.
Blood dripped from his lips, streaking down his chin and splashing onto the dirt below.
Through the ringing in his ears, Arthur could hear the manticore’s voice—snarling, cursing, spewing vulgar threats laced with pure hatred. When he lifted his head, he saw the creature glaring at him, its remaining eye burning with malice so intense it felt almost tangible.
It didn’t hesitate.
The manticore charged.
The instant it leapt, Arthur slammed both hands toward the ground and released a spell.
[2nd Tier Spell: Smokescreen]
The earth around him erupted in a violent surge of thick, billowing smoke, exploding outward like a bomb had detonated at his feet. The cloud swallowed the battlefield in seconds, blotting out sight entirely.
The manticore plunged into the smoke at the same moment Arthur burst free of it. He leapt backward, his forearm raised across the lower half of his face as he emerged, the dense smoke trailing off his body in thin, ghostlike wisps. His other arm extended forward, thumb and middle finger pressed together.
Snap
The moment his fingers snapped—middle finger striking palm—a single spark flashed into existence.
And a spark was all it took.
The smokescreen he had conjured wasn’t ordinary. The instant it left his hands, Arthur had altered its properties through Alchemy, transmuting it into a highly flammable compound. When the spark met the lingering cloud, it triggered an immediate and violent chemical reaction.
The world exploded.
A thunderous detonation tore through the forest, unleashing an almighty blast of fire and pressure. Arthur crossed his arms and braced himself as the shockwave slammed into him, the air screaming as it billowed outward. His golden hair was whipped back violently, flames reflecting brilliantly in his unblinking blue eyes as he stared straight into the inferno.
The explosion lit up his face in blazing gold and white, carving his features in sharp relief as he endured the heat and force without turning away.
High above, Merlin smirked.
The ground beneath her trembled violently as the blast shook the forest to its roots. Leaves, bark, and shattered branches rained down from the treetops, the echo of the explosion rolling endlessly through the woods.
When the flames finally died down and the smoke began to thin, a smoldering crater remained where the blast had erupted.
From within it, something moved.
Slowly—agonizingly—the manticore staggered forward. Burn marks covered its entire body, patches of skin completely missing and charred to black. What remained of its wings were little more than skeletal membranes, barely clinging to its frame.
It took a few unsteady steps before halting.
“Brat…” the creature rasped, its voice hoarse and broken. “Fuck you…”
Those were its final words.
Its massive body tilted to the side and collapsed heavily into the dirt, limbs going limp as its heart finally gave out, unable to push its ravaged body any further.
The manticore was no more.
Arthur let himself fall backward, sprawling flat against the forest floor. He stared up at the star-filled sky above, chest rising and falling in shallow breaths.
A crooked smile tugged at his lips.
“That was… freaking epic…” he muttered.
A moment later, Merlin appeared within his field of view, stepping casually into place behind him. She stood over Arthur with her hands on her hips, a playful glint in her eyes.
“Congratulations,” she said lightly. “You’ve slain a manticore—one of many, I’m sure~”
“Thanks,” Arthur replied, closing his eyes as exhaustion finally caught up to him. “I’ll be sure to thank you in my victory speech.”
Merlin laughed softly, shaking her head as the forest slowly fell silent once more.
