Chapter 115: Sacrifice And Promotion
Quirrell!
In fact, before meeting him at this moment, Harry had already imagined the scene of meeting him more than once in his mind, and what it would be like.
Strangely, he couldn’t imagine it.
Quirrell was undoubtedly the ultimate goal of all his actions today; he broke into this painted world precisely to stop him.
To get the Philosopher’s Stone before Quirrell!
He was Quirrell’s opponent, and their relationship was adversarial. This seemed to be destined from the beginning, but upon closer thought, it didn’t feel real.
In his impression, Quirrell had always been timid and subservient. He had only learned the truth about him less than two days ago, and there simply wasn’t enough time to change the perception that had been ingrained in him over the past few months.
He thought he would be angry, fearful, and would shout at the turban-wearing man.
But when they actually met, Harry found himself to be very calm, calmly watching the other person give him a slippery, chilling smile: “Ah—Harry Potter, my dear Mr. The Boy Who Lived, I was just talking about you with your little follower, Weasley!”
That sinister expression was completely different from the usual Quirrell, without any stuttering or cowardice, only a viper-like coldness.
“Hello, Professor Quirrell!”
Harry couldn’t imagine that he could greet his enemy with such a calm tone.
But he said it with a straight face, and even politely: “You look terrible, Professor. You were struck by lightning earlier, weren’t you? I heard that bad things tend to happen when you do too much bad, you should really reflect on yourself.”
Beside Quirrell, Ron, whose face had turned red at the mention of “follower,” puffed out his cheeks as if wanting to laugh.
This method of humiliation was something Harry learned from Vaughn: using sharp and sarcastic language to mock and expose flaws could easily cause someone to lose emotional control.
But Quirrell was clearly much stronger and more enduring.
He still smiled: “Don’t try to provoke me, Potter. If my emotions were so easily agitated, I wouldn’t have been pretending to stutter in front of you for months. I heard from Weasley that you even pitied me once? Pity poor, stammering Professor Quirrell?”
“I heard you even felt guilty towards Snape? Hahaha—”
Quirrell’s sharp laughter made Harry’s head ache.
He suddenly realized that he hadn’t learned the essence of Vaughn’s sharp sarcasm. If it were Vaughn, he would probably glance at the other person with the look of an idiot and casually say, “You laugh so ugly,” making the other person choke on their laughter.
But he couldn’t do it, and instead, he was easily provoked by Quirrell into feeling shame and annoyance.
Because he had indeed pitied Quirrell, and indeed felt guilty towards Snape, all of which made him seem even more like a clown at this moment.
“Harry!”
Hermione called his name anxiously.
Ron also shouted loudly: “Listen to me, Harry, calm down. We’ve become pawns in Chessboard Town now, and we can only get through this by continuing the endgame. Remember what I taught you? Don’t be impatient when playing chess.”
“Pay attention to what I say for a moment, and follow the steps I teach you…”
“Weasley!” Quirrell’s sinister gaze fixed on Ron. “If you’re not deaf, you should have heard just now that we’re still on the same team… Or do you want to break the rules?”
“So what!” Ron retorted defiantly. “Go ahead and cast an Evil Curse if you dare!”
“…Hmph, the incapable little follower of the Boy Who Lived.” Quirrell sneered and looked back at Harry. “However, you are still a bit useful, Weasley. I think you’d better reconsider carefully. As a pawn on the opposing side of the Boy Who Lived, have you ever thought about what would happen if you failed?”
Saying this, he tilted his head slightly and looked at the “Knight” by the greatsword not far away: “Go on, eat the opposing Pawn!”
It was a silent chess piece. The horse it rode neighed, and its heavy stone body advanced with thunderous steps, arriving in front of a white Pawn and raising its greatsword high.
“Damn it! Stupid Player, what bad luck did I have to be under you…”
The white Pawn cursed at Harry, but could only watch as the black “Knight” swung its greatsword.
With a deafening roar.
The Pawn was smashed to pieces by the sword, and Harry, Hermione, and Ron’s faces suddenly turned pale with fear!
That’s right!
This wasn’t ordinary Wizard Chess!
They were not just players, but part of the chess pieces!
…
The beginning of the chess game finally drew Vaughn, who was engrossed in the structure of the painted world, to reluctantly shift his attention to the “plot” below.
He chuckled, watching the fearful and hesitant Ron, the anxious and conflicted Harry and Hermione, and Quirrell, who let out a sharp laugh, savoring the results of his “incitement.”
“You’re such a scoundrel, Albus!”
Ron was the strongest Wizard Chess player among them. Normally, as long as he took it seriously, Harry, who had only learned Wizard Chess a few months ago, Hermione, who was terrible at it, and even Quirrell, would definitely not be his match.
If it were ordinary chess, as a player, Ron would definitely hold back, as he wouldn’t lose anything if he lost.
But at this moment, they were not only players but also pieces. Friendship would present the trio with a difficult choice—would it be victory, or the safety of their companions?
Harry and Hermione would be constrained by this, doing their best to avoid the chess game’s trajectory from affecting Ron.
And Ron on the other side was not relaxed either. He had to protect himself, consider how to deal with Quirrell’s malice, and find a way to protect Harry and Hermione!
Unless they abandoned their friendship and resorted to any means necessary for victory.
Dumbledore, who was watching the “play” below with great interest, replied with a smile: “It was all your inspiration, Vaughn. Last time you mentioned the Trolley Problem of Muggles, I was very fascinated. I specifically went to Muggle Society to find some similar ethical dilemmas for reference, and set up this level.”
“How is it, not bad, right? What do you think they will choose? Will they choose friendship? Or pursue victory, get ahead of Quirrell in the progress of the level, and continue the mission to stop him from obtaining the Philosopher’s Stone?”
Vaughn couldn’t answer.
There were no correct answers to ethical dilemmas. When caught in a problem, everyone had their own reasons, and there was no right or wrong.
Dumbledore obviously didn’t expect Vaughn to answer from the trio’s perspective. After a pause, he asked again: “Vaughn, if you were to choose, what would you do?”
Vaughn glanced at him. “I would draw my wand and, despite the Punishment, take down Quirrell!”
Dumbledore was stunned for a moment, then clapped and laughed heartily!
“Hahahaha—My dear, I must say, this is unexpected, yet it’s the most fitting answer for a wizard!”
Just as Dumbledore had once said, Magic could leverage the variables of Destiny, and naturally, it could also overturn the chessboard!
This was a typical way of thinking that attributed great power to oneself.
“Unfortunately, Harry and the others haven’t understood what their most important reliance is as wizards.”
Dumbledore said regretfully.
Vaughn felt he could understand: “They are still First Year students. Facing a Professor, they would subconsciously believe they couldn’t win in terms of Magic.”
“But you are also a First Year student.”
“Uh…” Vaughn was speechless.
Dumbledore sighed: “After all, they are not confident enough, don’t understand Magic well enough, and don’t know how to create favorable conditions for themselves. The Punishment for using Magic in the rules is actually a loophole I intentionally left for them. As long as the three of them commit fouls in turns, using the time difference, they could definitely ensure Quirinus gets hit by at least one Evil Curse.”
“Just one Evil Curse taking effect, with the time difference, would create a vicious cycle… On the contrary, Quirinus saw through it, so from the moment he encountered Harry, he didn’t even pull out his wand, because he knew that once he cast a spell first and was punished by an electric shock, he wouldn’t be able to protect himself for a while afterward.”
Hearing this, Vaughn asked curiously: “Is this also a test? Is it one of the reasons you arranged for the two groups to meet?”
“Yes, the result was not ideal,” Old Dumbledore sighed.
The less ideal things were yet to come!
Vaughn muttered to himself. Old Dumbledore had probably been away from teaching for too long and hadn’t realized how rapidly the practical combat abilities of Hogwarts students had declined in recent years.
He absolutely wouldn’t imagine that a few years later, students who were about to graduate would still need to learn the Disarming Charm from Harry!
Thinking of this, Vaughn couldn’t help but ask: “Albus, what is your educational philosophy?”
“Hmm?” Dumbledore seemed puzzled as to why he was asking, but after thinking for a moment, he replied: “I want students to have a beautiful childhood and youth. You know, the era I grew up in was not good; it was full of danger everywhere. Now is a peaceful era, the Statute of Secrecy is on the right track, and there’s no need for students to be under so much pressure…”
Vaughn had to interrupt Old Dumbledore, pointing at Quirrell below and staring at Dumbledore: “Do you think it’s a peaceful era now?”
“…” Dumbledore’s hand, stroking his beard, paused.
Vaughn shook his head: “I don’t know if you’ve also been deceived by the current illusion of peace in the Wizarding World. What I need to tell you is that the combat abilities of students now are worse than you imagine. If you have the chance, I suggest you hold an exam similar to OWLs, with all seven years participating, and have them use all the spells they’ve learned.”
“I guarantee that many students won’t even be able to use the Levitation Charm properly, which they should have mastered in their first year!”
To Vaughn’s statement, Dumbledore repeatedly shook his head and said with a chuckle: “How is that possible? The Levitation Charm is such a simple spell…”
Vaughn interrupted him again: “That’s right, it’s very simple, but the problem is that after the First Year, the upgrade exams no longer test the Levitation Charm, so naturally, no one practices it anymore!”
Old Dumbledore was stunned.
But Vaughn continued to strike him: “It’s not just Hogwarts. I also heard Crouch complain that many staff members in the Ministry of Magic, besides the Aurors, don’t even know the Full Body-Bind Curse… As the largest official institution in England, do you think they are capable of dealing with Tom’s return?”
Dumbledore’s lips moved a few times. Vaughn looked at him deeply: “Albus, you’ve focused too much of your attention on Harry and me, and seem to have overlooked that the environment is no longer the same as it was 12 years ago!”
“…”
After a moment of silence, Old Dumbledore had to admit that he had indeed been negligent.
However, the current situation was not the time to think deeply.
“Thank you for your reminder, my dear.” Dumbledore took a shallow breath and said, “I will conduct a spell exam for the entire school according to the method you suggested. As for now, let’s continue to pay attention to Harry and the others!”
Vaughn did not commit, but also did not say anything further, and looked down with him.
“Oh—it seems they chose friendship!”
While the two were talking, the chess game below had already begun. According to Wizard Chess rules, White moves first, and is generally more offensive.
But at this moment, they saw that Harry and Hermione—mainly Harry, Hermione’s skill was too poor—were adopting a conservative strategy, not expanding their territory much, and basically defending in the white half of the board.
Because Wizard Chess has rules that restrict squares, if they attacked too aggressively, they might lock Ron on the opposite side.
Ron was also responding passively, constantly disrupting Quirrell.
“Black Bishop, move two squares forward right!”
“Black Bishop, move three squares forward left!” （ The Bishop moves diagonally, with no restriction on the number of squares ）
The completely different commands left the Black Bishop confused. It looked left and right at Quirrell and Ron, the two players controlling the Pawns, scratched its head, and complained, “Can you guys agree on one thing? Who should I listen to?”
Quirrell and Ron glared at each other: “Of course, listen to me!”
The Black Bishop was in a dilemma and finally decided to obey Ron and move three squares forward left.
But it was a trap. As soon as the Black Bishop moved, Harry’s excited shout resounded through the air: “Left Rook, capture the Black Bishop!”
On the white side, a giant Rook jumped a distance of 50 feet, leaping into the black half of the board. With the thunderous sound of its stone wheels, it crushed the Black Bishop, which had presented itself, into pieces.
Harry and Hermione cheered. This was their first offensive move, and it had successfully freed the left Rook with quite good results.
Ron also raised his fist.
Only Quirrell’s eyes were sinister, appearing to be the sole victim.
But Dumbledore and Vaughn, looking down at the situation below, knew it wasn’t that simple.
“Quirinus did it intentionally. He knew Ron would interfere with him, so he sacrificed that Bishop to lure the Rook into an attack.”
“Mmm,” Vaughn nodded. “Most importantly, through this, Quirrell made the black pieces realize that Ron is not a qualified player, and they will no longer listen to his commands!”
The two continued to watch the chess game below, which had gradually begun to turn into a melee.
Indeed, the subsequent evolution of the situation validated their judgment.
After the sacrifice of the Bishop, the black pieces no longer obeyed Ron’s commands. On the other hand, the attacking Rook also forced Harry to abandon his purely defensive strategy.
That Rook piece was like bait, drawing Harry to continuously commit forces to maintain the meager advantage it had established.
This was also determined by the nature of the endgame. When redesigning the level, Dumbledore had invited Professor McGonagall to carefully select an aggressive endgame. Once the offense began, the situation would force both black and white sides to use the most aggressive and fierce methods, pointing their blades at the King piece.
With the sacrifice of pieces between them, finally, the Queen piece, with the greatest aggression and freedom in Wizard Chess, was liberated!
Transforming into a terrifying slaughter machine.
Boom—
With the roar of stone, the black Queen expressionlessly retracted her greatsword. A white Rook piece collapsed in front of her. The Rook, with only its head remaining, glared resentfully at Harry: “Stupid Player, I told you not to go there. I really should have smashed you with my wheel just now!”
Harry was covered in sweat.
He felt his head was about to explode. Although he had some talent in Wizard Chess, he had only been exposed to it for a short time. He had only learned it last Christmas and hadn’t even figured out many of the strategies.
And the current shift in the situation far exceeded his experience.
So far, he was relying entirely on sudden inspiration and Ron’s assistance.
“Harry…”
Hermione looked at him worriedly from a distance, then at Ron, who was not far from her.
Ron’s face was pale, but not from fear; he was racking his brain. His tiptoes trembled slightly, his blue eyes quickly scanned the situation on both sides, and he muttered something to himself.
At one point, Ron, who had been stationary, suddenly moved forward two squares （ Pawns can only move forward, but the first move can be two squares ）.
On the other side, Harry stared blankly: “Ron…”
Quirrell’s eyes widened: “Damn Weasley!”
Ron ignored him completely and urgently shouted at Harry: “Harry, this is the last resort! The other pieces no longer listen to me, so I can only move myself to regain control. Listen to me, take advantage of this opportunity and proceed as I say… Harry Potter! What are you still dazed for!”
“I…”
“What ‘I’! You must win the game, Harry, you must get the Philosopher’s Stone. That thing must absolutely not fall into the hands of the damn Dark Lord!”
Ron roared with all his might, his face flushed red.
Tears welled up in his eyes. He had to shout to cover up his inner fear because, not far in front of him, was the white-occupied territory. After a few more steps, he would enter the King’s circle, within the attack range of the white Bishop guarding the King, and be “forced to death”—this was the mechanism of Wizard Chess.
But as he said, this was the last resort.
He could only sacrifice himself to buy Harry time to counterattack!
“Ha—” Dumbledore clapped his hands and let out a loud laugh: “Look, Vaughn, you have a noble brother!”
Vaughn’s expression was blank.
“What, aren’t you happy? Such a good child, sacrificing himself for his friends, for his responsibility!” Dumbledore wiped his eyes emotionally. “It seems I misunderstood him before. Just before today, I thought he was leading Harry astray.”
“Sorry, I only saw reckless bravery. In my eyes, this behavior is called stupidity!”
“Don’t be so harsh. Although he is indeed a bit silly, the test in this level is not about intelligence, but about friendship, strategy, and responsibility. Ron possesses at least two of these. Even if he’s a silly child, he’s a noble silly child.”
“Heh, still silly!”
“Uh…”
Below, when Ron mentioned “Dark Lord,” Quirrell’s eyes narrowed dangerously.
His sinister gaze swept over Ron, Harry, and Hermione, and he seemed to be thinking about something.
And Harry, tears were already streaming down his face.
But he finally gave the command, crying, using the time Ron’s self-movement bought to advance most of the white pieces, including himself and Hermione, into the black territory.
A full-scale attack!
White pieces were destroyed one by one during the attack, but in return, more black pieces were also destroyed.
The white Queen, like a god of war, cut down the black pieces, scattering them. This piece, which could move horizontally, vertically, and diagonally without limit, was truly a crusher.
With Ron actively advancing and disrupting, Quirrell was sweating profusely trying to regain control.
However, this sharp attack had to stop.
After commanding the white Queen to smash another black Pawn, seeing the situation improve and feeling victory within his grasp, Harry turned his head and stopped Ron from advancing further: “Don’t move anymore, Ron, leave the rest to me!”
At this moment, Ron was only 1 square away from the white Bishop’s attack range. This was only because Harry had managed to make the Bishop retreat two squares, creating enough space.
Looking at the Bishop’s huge mace, which was almost thicker than his waist, Ron’s courage was rapidly turning into cold sweat.
“Okay, Harry!” Ron obeyed Harry’s persuasion. If the situation allowed, he certainly didn’t want to seek death.
And usually, such a situation would be followed by a “but”!
But…
“They’ve fallen for it,” Dumbledore sighed.
Vaughn nodded silently.
Harry was still too young and inexperienced. He thought he had the advantage and could easily control Quirrell, but he forgot that Quirrell’s greatest skill was endurance.
Enduring until Ron stopped disrupting, enduring until control was regained, enduring until Harry showed a flaw!
As soon as Ron stopped advancing and Quirrell regained control, he immediately pushed a Pawn he had arranged long ago to the right front of the white Queen.
Harry, who was pressing close to the back rank, cornering the black King against the edge, saw Quirrell neglecting one part to attend to another and couldn’t help but laugh heartily, ordering the white Queen to advance and knock off this Pawn that had presented itself.
Next, as long as the white Queen continued to advance, she could checkmate the black King…?
“Black Queen, move one square forward!”
Quirrell’s sharp voice called out.
Harry’s laughter suddenly turned hoarse, and he stared at the chessboard in astonishment.
Cold sweat slowly seeped from his forehead!
He suddenly realized that with Quirrell’s move, the black Queen, which had been lurking at the edge of the board without moving, immediately became the most powerful weapon guarding the King.
There was also a Black Rook, an unremarkable piece, tucked away in the corner of A8, and a Black Bishop at G7, guarding the Black King!
These three moves had blocked almost all his options. If his Pawn advanced further, it would be immediately eaten by the black Rook or Black Queen. The white Queen was completely locked; advancing would result in her being eaten by the black Bishop, and moving sideways would expose her to the Black Queen’s attack route.
What should he do?
The sudden turn of events not only stunned Harry but also made Ron’s jaw drop—he had been focused on fighting Quirrell for control and hadn’t noticed this.
Even Hermione, who was terrible at chess, sensed Quirrell’s three traps at this moment. She couldn’t help but look at Harry and Ron: “Is there no other way?”
Is there no other way?
Harry wiped his glasses hard, sweat soaking the lenses. His face turned red as he desperately tried to think of a solution.
On the other side, Ron’s face was pale, and he kept swallowing. There was a way, actually—
To make Quirrell lose initiative, to regain control, and to make a “bad move”!
However, if he moved forward one more step, he would fall within the white Bishop’s attack range. The white Bishop was already at the back rank and could not retreat further; it would even have to capture Ron.
That was its duty; it had to protect the King!
“The Wizard Chess King’s circle auto-capture consumes 1 move, but this rule applies to both sides, which can be exploited!”
“As long as I move forward one more step, don’t let Quirrell take the initiative!”
Large beads of sweat soaked Ron’s clothes. He looked diagonally at the Bishop’s indifferent gaze, and at the huge mace.
He looked at the scattered remains of chess pieces on the board.
Fear gripped his heart. Facing such a brutal scene, who wouldn’t be afraid?
But…
Ron suddenly remembered Quirrell’s earlier words, “follower,” and the contempt and mockery in his voice when he mentioned the word “follower.”
From childhood, he seemed to have been surrounded by similar glances.
When he was very young, he was Vaughn’s follower. Although they were twins, whether it was his Father, Mother, older brothers, neighbors, or the rarely contacted relatives of the Weasley family.
Everyone’s eyes were only on Vaughn, and he was either intentionally or unintentionally overlooked.
Now that he had grown up, he was Harry’s follower. Although they were classmates who enrolled together, in the eyes of other classmates and professors.
Everyone still only saw Harry, and his recognition was limited to “Harry Potter’s follower,” “the red-haired Weasley.”
He didn’t blame those people for overlooking him. He had always known that compared to Vaughn, compared to Harry, he was just an ordinary child.
He had never achieved anything remarkable. He didn’t have Vaughn’s high talent, nor did he have Harry’s merit of killing the Dark Lord.
He was just a normal person. Only by acknowledging his ordinariness could he find his place in this world, even if it was just to be a follower!
But… ordinary people also have dreams!
Just as Harry once said, everyone harbored a dream of becoming a hero in their heart.
“I want to be a hero!”
Thinking this, Ron Weasley, the boy with freckles on his face, who usually looked inconspicuous, faced the Bishop’s stern gaze and shouted loudly: “Hermione, move forward one square!”
Harry, who was still thinking hard, suddenly turned his head. He reached out as if to stop her, but Hermione, who trusted Ron’s chess skills more and was calmer, had already advanced one square as instructed.
As she finished her move, facing the white Bishop, which had slightly raised its mace, Ron, with a determined expression, jumped with all his might before Quirrell could issue an order!
Dong!
Under his control, the black pillar landed heavily on the chessboard. The sound struck Ron’s ears and Harry’s heart.
“No—”
Harry’s piercing cry came from afar, distorted as if drifting from a distant world. Ron closed his eyes gently.
He heard the sound of the Bishop swinging its mace and felt the wind pressure of a heavy object tearing through the air, about to strike.
He used all his strength, his voice cracking, and shouted his last words:
“Harry, this is all I can do for you. Hermione will protect your rear. As long as you make the white Queen move diagonally one square, to protect the King, the black Queen will have to capture the white Queen, and Hermione can capture it. At this point, you can advance to the back rank and be promoted!”
Boom—
With a deafening sound, the white Bishop’s heavy mace struck down, sending up clouds of dust.
Harry, bound to the spot by the rules of the chessboard, could only watch helplessly as Ron, like a doll, was flung out of the smoke by the terrifying shockwave and crumbling debris.
He rolled a few times on the smooth chessboard surface and lay there motionless.
Ron…
Harry reached out in a dazed and futile manner, but only saw the chessboard square suddenly melt like asphalt, swallowing Ron.
“Ron—!”
Pain and regret gripped his chest tightly, then turned into hatred!
He knew why Ron sacrificed himself, he knew who caused all this, and he suddenly turned his head, his eyes filled with tears and bloodshot, staring intently at Quirrell.
He had never hated anyone as much as he did at this moment!
He wished he could eat his flesh raw!
…
“Wuwuwuwu, so touching!”
Dumbledore wiped his eyes and blew his nose loudly.
Vaughn beside him rolled his eyes in disgust. “He’s not dead, why are you crying?”
“Don’t you find such a sacrifice for friendship incredibly moving? Merlin’s Beard, is your heart made of iron?”
Dumbledore protested with sobs. Vaughn ignored him, spread out the “key” to the painted world he had been holding, and twirled a few symbols.
As the space twisted, the unconscious Ron was teleported over, falling onto the soft magic carpet, stirring up a cloud of dust.
And… a strange smell…
Dumbledore’s sobs abruptly stopped.
Secretly turning his head, he looked with Vaughn, whose mouth was twitching, at Ron’s pants, which seemed to be damp.
“…Did he pee himself from fear…”
“Probably…”
“…” The two foxes, one large and one small, looked at each other.
After a moment of silence, Dumbledore stroked his beard and said thoughtfully: “Was the attack power of the chess pieces I designed too realistic? But he’s a wizard, wouldn’t he feel it if it hit him? Why was he so scared?”
Vaughn rubbed his forehead, utterly speechless.
Given the extremely strong smell emanating from a certain person, and the fact that there was not enough airflow in this magically sealed space to dissipate it.
Finally, Vaughn had to reopen the “key” and teleport Ron away again.
He couldn’t let that guy ruin such a good opportunity to watch the show!
After teleporting Ron away, although he was ashamed of his brother’s performance, Vaughn still had to defend him a little: “He might have drunk a lot of water before coming in. You know, when people pass out, they can’t always control themselves…”
“Yes, yes, I understand… Oh, look, Harry is starting to promote!”
Dumbledore awkwardly changed the subject. Vaughn sighed and said no more, also looking down.
Promotion, is an important rule in Wizard Chess. It’s called Pawn Promotion.
As the name suggests, in Wizard Chess, when a Pawn reaches the opponent’s back rank, it can be transformed into any piece except the King and Pawn.
Knight, Bishop, Rook, or even Queen!
In many chess games, this is a crucial move to turn defeat into victory. Usually, reaching a stage where promotion is needed signifies that both sides are nearing their end.
Therefore, in 99% of promotions, the choice is to become a Queen.
Because it is the most powerful piece in Wizard Chess, Harry, who was currently overwhelmed by anger and hatred, was no exception.
