Under the Trapdoor

Chapter 96 Under the Trapdoor (Happy New Year!)

For the first time, Daphne began to waver slightly about whether she needed to learn such advanced magic.

Before jumping, she was worried about Harry's safety, but after seeing that he was unharmed and had even managed to avoid the trap under the trapdoor by sheer luck, Daphne's mindset underwent a subtle change: Who set up this trap? Don't they have any basic common sense about setting up defensive mechanisms? Laying down a layer of shock-absorbing material on the ground just to prevent the thief from getting hurt?

Harry didn't think too much about it; he shouted towards the cave entrance, telling Ron to jump down too.

With a thud, Ron fell flat on his back next to Harry.

"What is this thing?" he asked.

"I don't know, it seems to be some kind of plant, it feels like it's being laid here to absorb shock."

Daphne was speechless when she heard Harry's words: Don't you think it's strange that there are shock-absorbing plants here?

Suddenly, she felt something grab her ankle and quickly crawl up the back of her shoe, wrapping around her arch.

Daphne suddenly realized something, and she struggled to get rid of her shoes before she could escape.

After escaping to a safe open space, Daphne finally had the chance to observe what had attacked her. She then recognized it as a devil's net on the ground.

Daphne reacted quickly enough and escaped. Harry and Ron were less fortunate; one landed early, and the other ended up in the Devil's Web. By the time Daphne realized something was wrong, both were already trapped.

"Help! Help me!"

"What is this thing—"

Harry and Ron struggled desperately, but the vines tightened their grip, and despite their best efforts, they could only temporarily stop the vines from wrapping around their necks.

If no outside help comes, the two young wizards will eventually be strangled to death as their strength gradually runs out.

"Wait, Flame!" Daphne drew her wand, chanting an incantation. A blue flame, as thick as a wrist, shot from the tip of her wand and coiled towards the devil vines on the ground. Within seconds, the vines binding Harry and Ron receded. They twisted and twitched, darting away from the flames, freeing the two unfortunate boys.

Daphne did not extinguish the flames, but instead turned them into a fireball that floated overhead to provide light for everyone.

"Thank goodness you paid attention in Herbology class." Harry leaned against the wall, wiping the cold sweat from his forehead.

Ron noticed that during the struggle, Daphne's shoes had been snatched away by the devil vine, leaving her with only a pair of thin black socks on her feet.

"Why don't you wear mine for now?" After a moment's thought, he took off his own shoes and handed them over.

Daphne repeatedly told herself that "Ron meant well," but when she saw the pair of dark shoes he handed her, she still felt that she lost control of her expression.

Her face twitched twice, and she floated up to about an inch off the ground. After taking a couple of deep breaths, she put on a business-like smile again: "No need for that, it won't affect anything. Let's hurry up and go. Protecting the magic stone is the most important thing."

Hearing Daphne's words, Harry and Ron didn't delay any longer and headed deeper into the only passage.

At the end of the corridor was a brightly lit room with a high vaulted ceiling. Countless small birds, as dazzling as jewels, fluttered their wings and flew around the room.

There is a heavy wooden door opposite the room.

"Will these birds attack us as we walk through the room?" Ron asked gravely.

"I think it's very likely, but we have no other choice—" Harry nodded.

"Those aren't birds," Daphne interrupted their conversation, pointing to the ceiling to show Harry and Ron that the flying things weren't birds, but winged keys.

"I feel like you need to fly up there and grab the key from among those keys that can open that door."

"There must be hundreds of keys in here!" Harry looked at the huge, densely packed group of keys and felt a chill run down his spine.

"This place was broken into before us, so the correct key has most likely already been caught once," Daphne concluded after careful analysis. "Look around and see if any key shows signs of being caught. I'll try other methods."

The three split up. Harry and Ron rode the flying broomsticks piled in the corner of the room to grab the keys, while Daphne went to the door to see if she could open it by other means.

She first tried the simplest method: push it—someone had already broken in, and the door might have been opened by it.

However, the gate remained unmoved.

She tried the unlocking spell again, but it had no effect.

Looking at the wooden door, Daphne had a bold idea.

She took a few steps back, then unleashed an attack spell at the door.

She blasted a gap of about a foot in the sturdy oak door; although the power wasn't as great as she had hoped, it was still quite impressive.

Daphne immediately began to stand still and unleash her attacks, using wind blades, ice arrows, fireballs... all the forms of offensive magic she had learned from Rice on this door.

She felt that the spell stored in her necklace would most likely be able to blast open the door in one go, but this spell was her trump card, so how could she use it casually? She would use it in small amounts, multiple times, to shatter the door little by little.

Harry and Ron, floating in mid-air, were stunned and almost forgot their mission.

However, Daphne's efforts ultimately failed because after she blasted a large hole in the surface of the wooden door, she discovered that there was another heavy iron door underneath.

Destroying the iron gate would take an unknown amount of time, and more importantly, she couldn't guarantee that there wouldn't be another door behind it.

Fortunately, good news came from Harry and Ron—they had locked onto a key and were trying to intercept it.

Ron swooped down, Harry close behind the Key. Caught between them, the Key flew rapidly towards the ground. Daphne immediately raised her wand and swung it upwards—

A small wind blade emerged from the tip of her staff, accurately striking the fleeing key and severing one of its wings by the roots.

The key, missing half a wing, fell to the ground with a whoosh and was tightly held in Daphne's hand.

I picked up the key, went to the door, inserted it into the lock, and turned it. With a click, the door opened by itself.

Looking at the one-foot-thick iron door, Daphne was glad that the spell hadn't damaged the mechanism inside; otherwise, the three of them might not have been able to push the door open.

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

This is the third update. Goodnight everyone, and Happy New Year!

(End of this chapter)