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Now reading: Chapter 210: 210 Tracking Curse from HP: The Boy who Mastered Lightning, a Action novel by Daydreamer7.

This was Alan's latest developnt, a spell he called the Tracing Charm. It was an evolution of the standard Tracking Spell, refined by integrating bloodline magic with scent-sensitive and thermal runes. To complent the magic, he had inscribed a manifestation charm onto his new silver monocle; when used together, they allowed him to perform advanced reconnaissance on bloodstains, footprints, scent trails, and biological signatures.

In his vision, bloodstains appeared as a pulsing light red, while surrounding spots of light marked biological activity tied to that specific sample. Above the trail, a shimring mist represented the scent. Scratches on trees or rocks, or even places where a creature had rested, manifested as halos of varying intensity depending on how long ago the contact occurred.

The spell offered two modes. The first was a broad, non-locked reconnaissance that revealed all nearby clues, though this was prone to interference and required a sharp eye to filter out noise. The second mode, which he was using now, locked onto a specific sample for precision tracking. Having calibrated it to the Hippogriff's blood, every relevant light spot in his vision was now tied directly to that creature.

"The densest concentration of clues is right here," Alan noted. "A high volu of blood and feathers—definitely the Hippogriff. The trees on both sides are shredded. It looks like a savage struggle took place."

He stepped closer to examine the peripheral traces, focusing on broken branches and the geotry of the claw marks.

"These claw prints don't match a Hippogriff. No bite marks, either. It seems the attacker relies almost exclusively on its talons. The scratches are quite high up, which suggests a large creature, yet the width of the marks implies sothing leaner. Perhaps it uses leaping attacks?"

Based on the evidence, Alan made an initial deduction: the target was a dium-sized creature, likely weighing no more than 300 kilograms, with powerful, multi-digited forelimbs, high agility, and excellent jumping ability. The number of attackers remained unknown.

"It's certainly not a dragon. Suspects include Chiras, leopard cats, Werewolves, Nundus, Manticores, or Griffins. I need to narrow this down."

He turned back to the bloodstains. Two distinct trails branched away from the site, and the scent-mist split with them.

"One trail leads back toward the edge of the forest—the Hippogriff's escape route. It was severely injured, yet the attacker didn't pursue. Why?"

Alan followed the retreat path for several ters until the traces simply vanished into the air. "The Hippogriff took flight despite its wounds. That implies the attacker is land-bound. We can rule out flying creatures like Griffins."

Returning to the clearing, Alan focused on the second trail. This was the route the predator had taken. Because the creature was still covered in the Hippogriff's blood and scent, the trail was vivid in his monocle. He began to track it cautiously. Since so ti had passed, many physical footprints were buried under leaf litter or obscured by other animals, forcing him to rely heavily on the blood-scent mist.

The trail was intermittent and fading, making the trek difficult, but his persistence eventually paid off. A kiloter deeper into the woods, he stopped behind a towering ancient tree.

"What do we have here?" Alan squatted, raking away a layer of dead leaves to reveal a tuft of dark, coarse hair matted with blood. "The target rested here. The traces are saturated."

He scrutinized the sample through his monocle. "Wait... this isn't Hippogriff blood. The Tracing Charm isn't reacting to it. The attacker was wounded?"

He checked the area but found no other samples. "It likely sustained only a minor injury, or it possesses a high regenerative factor," he mused, studying the hair. "The profile fits a Werewolf. But why would one be prowling the outskirts of Hogwarts? And is it a natural werewolf or a wizard afflicted with lycanthropy? I'd prefer a conversation, but if it's a feral breed, I'll have to put it down quickly."

Alan recalibrated his Tracing Charm to the dark hair. With the new anchor, the clues in his vision sharpened. A gray mist, like a translucent ribbon, snaked from the tree deeper into the heart of the Forbidden Forest. The path was erratic and winding, suggesting the creature's movents had beco disorganized or predatory.

The deeper he went, the more the trail beca cluttered with the signatures of other magical creatures, creating a chaotic "noise" of scents. Alan used a localized Echo Spell to scan the imdiate environnt, filtering out the false leads. By cross-referencing the Hippogriff's blood with the predator's scent, he maintained a steady lock.

As he moved, he began to spot rare wild herbs growing in the loam. Never one to pass up valuable materials, he harvested them as he went. The trip was proving profitable regardless of the hunt. Eventually, the trail led him to the banks of a river several ters wide.

"The clues stop here," Alan muttered, frowning. "No exit traces on either bank. It waded in."

The water posed a significant problem. If the Werewolf had crossed directly, the river might have diluted the scent enough to make finding the trail on the far side nearly impossible. And if it had decided to swim downstream to mask its tracks, his search area had just expanded ten-fold.

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