Chapter 164: Death of Wormtail

The fire on the ground burned more and more vigorously. The reddish-black flames spread across the leaves of the hillside from top to bottom, passing from the outermost side of the ridge to the center, engulfing everything they touched.

Leaves and Acromantulas were scorched, and ashes fluttered, as if the gate of hell was slowly opening. There was loud, shrill shouting at the bonfire. Just to prevent Ivan from returning with Aragog, many of the Acromantulas gathered there, and now, they were desperately fleeing.

Ivan stood on the crest of the bonfire and gave the whole scene a cold stare.

The scene moved him greatly. The approaching scorching heat, the smell of burning flesh and bones, and the wailing of the spiders before their death, as if coming out of the depths of hell, made his legs tremble constantly.

But Ivan's right hand holding the wand was extremely steady, and from time to time it emitted a red light, knocking down the giant spiders trying to escape from the bonfire.

On the other side, Peter Pettigrew was looking at Ivan in amazement. He seemed to want to say something, but after a long hesitation, he said nothing.

With this boy, he couldn't think of resisting any longer.

The Acromantulas that were not burned in the pit were also startled and looked at the human boy above. Countless pairs of eyes stared at him, as if they wanted to carve Ivan's appearance deep into their souls. From that day on, in addition to his nemesis, Ivan was destined to become a nightmare for all Acromantulas.

They were constantly retreating and gathering in the center of the hollow.

Click, click, click, click, click....

Ivan heard Aragog's voice coming from the depths of the lair, and the remaining giant spiders began to force the leaves and the floor, and the flames separated and blocked with a belt.

The flames in the hollow floor were too strong, and Ivan did not know if they could succeed.

He did not have time to watch any longer. At Aragog's call, more Acromantulas came out of the Forbidden Forest, waving their sharp pincers and running toward them. He hurried off with Pettigrew.

These Acromantulas that came followed closely behind them. Although they were much smaller than the ones in the hollow, the power of their sharp, large pincers was exactly the same. Messing with them meant inevitable death.

Ivan's wand glowed from time to time, knocking back incoming spiders, and his remaining mana was quickly depleted.

But the spiders were coming from all directions; their steady stream seemed endless.

Peter Pettigrew screamed in horror. Blood and sweat nearly soaked his entire robe, and the clot that had already begun to solidify in his wound began to break apart and ooze blood. He wanted to do something, but did not dare to move. He didn't even dare to speak, fearing to interrupt Ivan's magic that kept him moving.

If that happened, the consequences would be simply unimaginable.

About five minutes later, Ivan could hardly stand it any longer. Even if he killed more spiders, it wouldn't help at all. There were simply too many of them. He insisted on going on for a while, then gasped and leaned heavily against the trunk of an oak tree.

The faint glow at the tip of his wand slowly dissipated, and the surroundings plunged into endless darkness.

"Save me, I've been bitten by a spider, save me, I don't want to die!" I hear Pettigrew's cry.

In the starlight, Ivan seemed to see the size and shape of Pettigrew lying down, and the giant spider biting his right leg, tearing at his flesh and blood with its big black pincers, and pulling him backwards.

Peter's arm squeezed the trunk at his side. There was a snap. The Acromantula behind him broke off a large chunk of his flesh, and blood poured out of his leg. The sound of the monster chewing on his flesh was absolutely disturbing.

Smelling the scent of blood, the other approaching Acromantulas went even crazier.

Another spider ran towards Pettigrew. The scene was too horrible. Ivan rushed to extend his wand and wanted to save him.

But there was no magical power in his body. He cast a spell, and his wand emitted a faint red light, which immediately disappeared like a candle that was blown out by the wind.

"Save me, save me, please..." He began to sound like a broken record. Pettigrew was screaming and crying louder and louder, louder and louder.

He struggled, he cried, he pleaded, and his face was streaked with tears. He regretted taking the path that led to this. He wished he had not betrayed James and Lily. The promise of power he received from Voldemort was empty.

Ivan couldn't bear to hear Peter's screams and closed his eyes.

Perhaps, he was going to end up the same way. Suddenly, a loud, long horn sounded, and a blaze of light flashed across the gap.

Ivan opened his eyes in surprise. He saw the old car he had taken before school last year. Mr. Weasley's car was rumbling down the slope, headlights blazing, its horn screeching, knocking spiders aside; several were flung onto their backs, their endless legs waving in the air. The car stopped in front of Ivan and the doors opened.

Ivan didn't think twice. He leapt to his feet and his previously depleted mana seemed to revive with hope. His wand emitted successive red lights, striking the spider behind Pettigrew.

He grabbed Peter's left hand and pulled him into the front seat of the car.

They walked two steps forward, when the spider that had just bitten Peter's right leg suddenly emerged from the shadows. Once again, its large pincers grabbed Peter and its front legs wrapped around his waist holding him tightly.

Ivan and the spider began a disparate struggle for Pettigrew's body.

As for Peter, he had already passed out. Due to the pain, the muscles in his face were still twitching.

Ivan pulled out his wand with difficulty and pointed it at the spider behind Peter. He tried several times and was unable to cast a spell.

Suddenly, Pettigrew woke up again. His pupils were wide open with fear, his eyes moved from Ivan's to look around, noting the growing number of spiders surrounding them. They were slowly coming, ready to attack them.

Looking at the steady expression on the boy's face, Pettigrew was once again reminded of Sirius Black, his former best friend.

Black said that if he didn't sell James and Lily to Voldemort, he would be willing to die for him as well.

If Black were here, he'd be like Ivan, he'd hug him tight and not let him go, wouldn't he?

If he didn't betray James and Lily in the past, how good would life be now?

Pettigrew closed his eyes, and his tears flowed again, and there was a trace of regret and resolve on his pained, distorted face.

A second later, he broke away from Ivan violently, watching the boy inside the car from the force of the grip.

As he was dragged by the spider to the Acromantulas behind them, Pettigrew felt a small atonement in his heart.

The car's engine roared and revved with Ivan inside, knocking over more approaching spiders.

Through the dirty window, Ivan saw Peter Pettigrew vanish.

The spiders made a triumphant clicking sound. Ivan knew what it meant: Wormtail was dead!