Allen was woken up by the noise. Without the help of the magic spell, he could not fall asleep due to the noise outside. He got up, but Ravenclaw was nowhere to be found in the treehouse. On the large desk was a bag of coins that Ravenclaw had left for him as pocket money for the carnival. Just like how Luna received her salary, Allen did not feel anything strange about accepting the money. Allen weighed the bag and found that it contained quite a lot of money.
Through the window of the treehouse, he could see the bustling, noisy and joyful crowd below. After a simple wash, Allen took out the complete set of clothes that Ravenclaw had prepared for him. Only then did he realize that things were not as simple as he had thought.
"Isn't it going to take another two or three hundred years for this kind of clothing to become popular in the Muggle World? It seems that it's different from modern times. In ancient times, wizards were more fashionable, not Muggles …" Alan looked at the black and blue leggings, which were covered with silver. There was a triangle missing from the lower abdomen to the crotch, which was not covered by the cloth. It was supposed to be more convenient when using tools to urinate …
After a moment of hesitation, Allen made up his mind. He put on the leggings and put on the pair of pointy high-top boots without soles and heels. After looking in the mirror with his back facing the mirror, he found that his groin was a little bit strangled … This made Allen hurriedly put on the tight leather jacket that was dyed dark blue and had a lower hem that almost reached his knees. After tying the leather belt, he breathed a sigh of relief.
Then, Allen put on a pair of deerskin gloves and looked in the mirror. He noticed his light blonde hair in the mirror and frowned. "Why do I look like a barbarian would put a melted gold belt on my face?"
Finally, Allen covered his head with a long-tailed hat that looked a little like an Indian turban and put on a dark blue inner and black outer cloak. He nodded at the mirror with a smug look like Malfoy. "It's a pity that there are no half-handed swords in this era, and I don't know any swordsmanship. Otherwise, I could cosplay as Fiore di Ribéry..."
After leaving the treehouse, Allen looked at the scene in front of him. It was hard to imagine such a drastic change. They and Helga's tavern had many triangular flag ropes tied to the great oak tree, and the lawn near the treehouse swept away the tranquil atmosphere of the past and was replaced by a scene of carnival and boiling. Groups of adepts appeared from every direction, leaping out of every colorful tent and jumping down from every oddly shaped broom.
On the stage made of wooden frames, clowns in lantern sleeves were throwing candies and bouquets made by Hufflepuff's tavern to the children. Wizard merchants dressed in strange clothes were shouting loudly, peddling all kinds of strange magic goods. Some food stalls that looked shabby to Allen caught the feet of passersby, but the aroma that filled the air still made Allen feel more appetizing. Men and women in long robes and hoods, as well as revelers in strange clothes, were all noisy and dancing. Flowers flew up in handfuls, forming a colorful world.
Allen glanced at Hufflepuff's tavern. Although they had set up many tables and chairs outside, there were still too many people. This made him give up on the idea of going over to take a look. He walked in the crowd and strolled through the stalls, but found that nothing piqued his interest.
"What a pity, I didn't bring enough money and goods. That rooster egg just showed up, and it was bought by that monkey face at a high price. I don't know when I'll see it again!"
"You didn't recognize who he was? Even if you brought enough money, you can't beat him. Be careful with what you say. Although private fights are prohibited in the carnival, he'll come after you after hearing what you said. "
Allen walked in the crowd and heard people talking. When he turned his head and wanted to ask, he found that he couldn't tell who was talking about it from the chaotic crowd.
The noises grew louder as it got closer to noon. In front of every stall, in every tent, in front of every wooden frame, there was not a single mouth that was silent, not a single arm that was still. In this grand event, Allen looked left and right, and began to feel bored. He bought some butterfly biscuits and roasted rabbit meat. He was going to take a look at Ravenclaw's fortune-telling hut and give it some food while he was at it.
"Twelve young men who have become strong because of the army have gathered in the arena.
A crucible on a belt, quietly waiting to fly,
Hearing the sound of a horn, they quickly jumped into the sky.
...
But the ten heroes are destined to die. "
The singing voice of the man with magic spread throughout the entire area. A group of wizards heard the singing voice and ran past Allen, shouting excitedly.
Allen curiously followed their route. The more he walked, the more he felt a burst of noise and jubilation. When he arrived at the arena with the crucible above his head, the scene was like a man-made hurricane. The cheers were like thunder. Confetti, bouquets, ribbons, oranges, and flowers danced in the air, mixed with the sound of stones and crucibles hitting each other. It was like a rainstorm with big hailstones.
But soon the cheers gave way to cries of alarm when the first champion was killed by a large, enchanted stone suspended a hundred feet above the ground. It seemed to Alan that this was a most violent and dangerous game. Every time the horn sounded, as many as a hundred enchanted stones of varying sizes, which had been suspended a hundred feet above the ground, would begin to fall, and the contestants, who appeared to be mainly Scots, would rise and fall on their brooms, catching the falling stones with their crucibles overhead, and the winner would be the one who caught the most stones.
But judging from the reaction of the surrounding spectators, it was obvious that they had long been accustomed to this kind of game. They were more concerned about it. It seemed that in their eyes, this game was the greatest test of manliness and courage. Therefore, no one would be deterred by death.
Allen shook his head when he saw another wizard being killed. He remembered that Kenneth Worth Whistle, an expert on Quidditch and the author of the book "Quidditch Traces", said that this game might be the inspiration for the Quidditch game.
The game on the arena was still going on. Real Warriors were those who dared to challenge death in the face of death. Holding this belief, the wizards in the arena were still flying in the air. Their movements were unimaginably agile, and their courage made Allen gasp in amazement. Boulders continued to hit the crucibles, splinters flying everywhere. One after another, contestants who were hit by the boulders fell from the sky with bleeding heads.
Fortunately, Hufflepuff was an outstanding healer and had a kind heart. She had arranged for a group of apprentices to wait for rescue. Thus, the injured contestants were able to receive proper treatment very quickly. This caused some dissatisfied voices to appear in the crowd around Allen. They were complaining that there were too few people who had died.
In the arena, a robust man in his thirties with a red mane of hair and a red beard was particularly eye-catching. He was using a flying broom without cushion charms to fly in the air. Although in Allen's opinion, the speed of these brooms was shockingly slow compared to the products of his era, and the workmanship was too rough, this did not prevent the red-haired man from being faster than the others. He successfully caught a lot of boulders.
Even when blood flowed down his cheeks, he still laughed and continued to move forward. In this situation where strength and courage coexisted, he successfully stimulated the spectators to cheer excitedly.
One after another, two Warriors who were not so lucky were directly smashed to death by boulders before they could be rescued. Finally, a huge bell was rung three times in a row, and the red-haired man won the final victory.
The champion's face was covered in blood, which made him look very ferocious. However, he told Hufflepuff's apprentices that he would receive treatment later. He directly went to the arena and waved to the spectators.
The spectators, who had been conquered by his performance and were extremely excited and respectful, burst into enthusiastic cheers.
You've already exceeded your reading limit for today. If you want to read more, please log in.
Login
Select text and click 'Report' to let us know about any bad translation.
