The remaining Five-Legged Monster, its hind legs still ensnared, witnessed the scene, and the last trace of ferocity in its eyes was replaced by boundless fear.
Its earth-shaking howl dwindled into a dying whimper. It struggled frantically, massive claws stamping against the reef and sending shards of rock flying like shrapnel.
It seed to foresee its impending fate of being completely devoured.
Just as the dark, viscous flesh was about to spread toward the second Five-Legged Monster's body, preparing to drag it into the abyss—
"Wait!" A slightly urgent female voice rang out.
It was Ms. Snowy Owl.
She stepped forward, her gaze fixed on the remaining Five-Legged Monster with its trapped hind legs, and spoke quickly to Sagres and the frantically devouring mass of flesh.
"This one… perhaps it can be kept."
Her voice was not loud, yet it clearly cut through the monster's shrieks and the squelching of viscous flesh. "A complete, living Five-Legged Monster is of inestimable value on the black market."
Her words were brief, but a strange glint flickered in her sharp eyes—the look of a rchant who had discovered an unparalleled treasure.
Sagres's grey eyes swept over Snowy Owl, then settled on the trembling Five-Legged Monster.
The mass of flesh also seed to have "heard" her words. Several tentacles reaching toward the creature froze mid-air, thick fluid dripping slowly from their tips.
"It's too dangerous!" Hummingbird did not even look up. Although Swift's bone-deep wound had already healed, she continued casting spells. "This thing's power is violent. If it breaks free or loses control, we'll be the first targets. There's no need to risk our lives for a few Galleons."
"Hummingbird is right," Robin stepped forward, her gaze sweeping over the whimpering Five-Legged Monster. "Transporting and containing it would be a major problem. Its strength and destructive potential exceed even that of a dragon. The risks far outweigh the benefits."
"Its hide and bones… are excellent magical materials."
Thunder Eagle studied the Five-Legged Monster's coarse skin and massive bones, a glint flashing in his eyes. "And I've never heard of anyone making a wand core from a Five-Legged Monster's hair, heartstring, or spinal cord. But a living one…"
He shook his head, clearly also leaning toward the conclusion that the risk was too great.
Nightingale hesitated, as if wanting to speak, but ultimately turned her gaze toward Sagres instead.
Only the crash of the waves and the unsettling squelch of viscous flesh echoed across the island, accompanied by the surviving Five-Legged Monster's tightly suppressed whimpers.
All eyes were fixed on Sagres, awaiting his decision.
Sagres's grey gaze passed over the flesh of Lord Voldemort, which had visibly swollen in size, its aura growing increasingly chaotic and violent.
In the suffocating silence, a voice finally rang out.
This voice did not co from anyone's throat.
It was low and hoarse, like countless viscous bubbles bursting in the abyss, filled with doubt yet unmistakably clear and coherent.
"Why?"
That simple question, carrying an almost childlike incomprehension, sent a chill crawling up the spines of every seasoned Bronze Feather mber present.
The writhing mass of flesh slowly turned toward Snowy Owl. At so unknown point, a fanged mouth split open, accompanied by several eyes.
"It is food. I need food."
The voice paused, as though weighing its words, before continuing, "You said… I am your puppet. Your tool. But even a puppet needs energy, and a tool requires maintenance."
The words flowed far too smoothly for a monster, more like a machine stripped of emotion, leaving only cold logic to state an obvious fact.
Everyone frowned as they stared at it, clearly not expecting it to express an opinion of its own.
"Tools don't ask why," Nightingale said coldly.
"But I am different. I was once human, like you. I have only lost everything." The voice went on, eerily calm, as if recounting soone else's story.
"I lost my mories. My identity. Everything from the past. All that remains is hunger. And you refuse to satisfy even this one need. That is unfair."
"You want fairness?" Sagres looked at it without expression, a trace of icy detachnt buried deep in his eyes. "Then you should have died the mont you were born."
His voice was calm and rciless, utterly indifferent to the creature's emotions. "You must understand that 'losing everything' is precisely what saved your life, and losing everything does not an your past sins have been erased."
The flesh monster was clearly unconvinced. It even began to analyse the situation. "You are preventing from consuming it because you believe it has greater value?"
It seed to grasp the concept of "value" from Snowy Owl's words, though it could not empathise.
"It is devoured by and transford into my power. And my power continues to serve you. Therefore, the value has not disappeared. It has rely changed its form of existence."
Yet beneath this apparently rational reasoning lay sothing chilling.
Whenever it spoke of "food" and "devouring," an unmistakable cruelty crept into its tone.
Sagres regarded it and shook his head calmly.
"Your reasoning is flawed, and you are ignoring a crucial fact." His gaze fixed on the writhing mass of flesh, as though piercing its viscous exterior to glimpse the struggling remnant of a soul within.
"What fact?" the flesh monster asked, confused.
"Your 'hunger' and 'instinct' must be guided and restrained. Unchecked devouring will only push you more quickly toward the brink of losing control. And when that happens, only death awaits you."
The flesh of Lord Voldemort went still.
"You an… I would eat myself to death?" The hovering mass let out a disbelieving sound, its dripping tentacles trembling faintly.
"Not exactly," Sagres said calmly. "Hunger is the instinct of this shell. But if you are content to be nothing more than a monster driven by instinct, then you forfeit the aning of your existence."
"The aning of my existence?" Lord Voldemort sounded genuinely confused. "Isn't it simply to be your tool?"
Sagres shook his head. "If you are rely a tool, then a tool that never asks 'why' is the most convenient of all."
That sentence seed to strike sothing deep.
The cluster of eyes embedded within the folds of flesh suddenly glead. "Then… I have another purpose?"
Sagres's tone remained indifferent. "Not a purpose. rely a possibility I wish to explore."
His gaze seed to pass through the monster's body, as though seeing the shattered soul trapped within.
"When I chose to give you a chance, I wanted to see this: when a person's body is destroyed and their mories erased, will they repeat the sa mistakes and beco the sa person as before? Or… is there another outco?"
"What… outco?" the flesh monster hissed.
"Can a demon beco an angel? Can a wicked person beco good?"
"But I am no longer human," the tentacles curled weakly.
"Your flesh can change," Sagres replied coolly. "Transforming you into a human body would not be difficult."
"But can I truly beco a… good person?" The voice was filled with uncertainty.
"That is a question you must answer yourself," Sagres said calmly, his tone unwavering. "I will only warn you of this: the mont your soul yields to this flesh, I will personally kill you."
He paused, his gaze briefly sweeping over Snowy Owl before returning to the flesh that was Lord Voldemort, and issued his command.
"Now, release this Five-Legged Monster."
The mass of flesh fell silent.
The tentacles hovering in the air slowly withdrew.
________
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