Chapter 5.3- Doom Days

Acromantula, he instantly recognised, and his body was moving before he had finished the thought.

“Ignis inhaere” I muttered as I pointed my wand right at the creature. The fire cutter split the thing in two, neatly cauterising both halves and forcing it to land to either side of me and not on my person. Those reflexes. They had been all Potter, I realised. Tom Riddle knew the dark arts, Doom had the creativity to bring magic to bear to tremendous effect, and Potter just had sheer fighting talent. The instincts brought from being confronted with bullying from a young age and being forced to get himself out of life threatening situation after life threatening situation.

It was those instincts he leaned on now. “Welcome to Javokhir’s grove, human. It shall be your final resting place” An acromantula even large than his memories of Aragog spoke out from further in the treelike. Whatever apprehension he felt was buried under the realisation that he was going to have to fight himself out of this on his own. There would be no talking, and there would be no help incoming. As if Doom would ever need help.

He leaned out of the way of a spurt of webbing, and jabbed his wand at the spider that sent it. His stunning spell splashed against the creatures carcass and did little. He remembered his study then.

”Acromantula. Powerful creatures of the dark. Said to be the offspring of Echidna herself, their webs are strong and nigh indestructible while their hide enjoys a large degree of magical resistance. Their venom is deadly to all but the most resilient of creatures. Class Four. Recommended for teams of Four or more hunters when found in colonies of up to 12. A useful rule of thumb would be 3 Acromantula per Professional Hunter for dealing with infestations.” He quoted ‘Profitable Beasts and Where to Hunt them’, a book tom Riddle had devoured beginning to end to himself while gathering his bearings.

There sure were more than 12 of the things surrounding him here, and he doubted he qualified as a Professional Hunter or anything of the sort, but that did not mean he was lacking for tricks. Besides, he had more than his fair share of frustration to work out. The group that skittered to him from in front was banished with a subvocalised “Arania Exime” as the blast of blue light sent them flying backwards.

“Ignis Flagellum” He mentally incanted to form the semi-famous fire whip curse as he took stock of the ones still coming. He moved his wand in deliberate movements, weaving the whip like an expert to cut through half a dozen of the damn things before they were content to remaining at a watching distance for the time being. He smiled at the effect. He had no idea how to use a whip in real life, but that did not matter for this one. It was made of his magic and channelled through his wand. The fire whip moved in ways that violated gravity, inertia, and common sense to carry out his will.

The sound of skittering echoed through the forest and then they began to slowly approach from all directions at the same time. Of fucking course.