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Kael had no time to hesitate. If he didn't shatter the Old Man Willow's demonic melody, countless Hobbits would die, and he would not be far behind. Bracing his exhausted mind and body, he gritted his teeth and charged towards the burning titan.

Today, one of them would fall.

Petrificus Totalus! Incendio! Expelliarmus! Locomotor Mortis! Kael unleashed a desperate, chaotic barrage of spells, pouring every last ounce of his remaining energy into the assault, regardless of their effectiveness.

Whoosh!

A gust of wind, sharp and stinging, tore past him. Before he could react, a thick root whipped out from the inferno, striking him squarely in the back. The impact sent him flying, crashing heavily dozens of meters away. For a moment, his vision went black, and consciousness slipped from his grasp. Fortunately, the Shield Charm he had instinctively maintained, combined with the Dwarven-forged mail he wore, absorbed the worst of the blow, saving him from a fatal injury.

Kael scrambled to his feet, his back screaming in protest, a searing pain so intense he could barely straighten up. In that moment of life and death, adrenaline surged through him, washing away all fear, all thoughts of retreat. Only a cold, burning rage remained.

His magic, fueled by the raw, primal emotion, boiled within him.

"Expelliarmus!"

An unprecedented torrent of immense power erupted from his very being, coalescing into a dazzling, crimson beam that struck the Old Man Willow with cataclysmic force.

CRACK!

The colossal trunk of the ancient Huorn snapped in half. With a final, deafening shriek that tore through the night, the Old Man Willow's movements ceased abruptly. Broken and defeated, it lay still, silently surrendering to the raging fire that consumed its ancient form.

Watching the motionless behemoth, Kael gasped for breath, his strength finally giving out. He collapsed to the ground, utterly spent. The backlash from his magical outburst, combined with the sharp, radiating pain in his back, left him without the strength to even stand.

At that same moment, the Hobbits, freed from the hypnotic spell, regained their senses. Lingering fear was etched on every face. They had been aware, trapped within their own minds, forced to watch as their bodies marched like puppets towards a fiery demise. The Hobbits who had escaped death turned their gazes to Kael, their eyes filled with a potent mixture of gratitude, admiration, and awe.

It was this Wizard who had single-handedly turned the tide, defeating the powerful Old Man Willow and its legion of Huorns, defending their home.

"Kael! Wizard Kael! He is our hero!" someone shouted from the crowd, and the sentiment was quickly echoed by a chorus of cheers. The Hobbits erupted in a triumphant roar, the sound of victory washing over the battlefield.

After catching his breath, Kael managed to push himself to his feet. He glanced at his severely burned left hand and felt the dull, sharp ache in his back, a bitter smile touching his lips. It was the first time he had been so seriously injured. But he was not unprepared. He pulled a small packet from his pocket, containing the Essence of Dittany he had so carefully prepared.

Enduring the intense pain, he applied the cool, green extract to his burned hand. The wound healed at a visible rate, the skin knitting itself back together. In a matter of moments, his hand was restored, the new skin even fairer than before. Seeing its effectiveness, Kael simply popped the rest of the Dittany into his mouth and swallowed it.

"Ugh, so bitter," he grimaced. No wonder wizards in his old world preferred external application; the taste was truly indescribable. He almost gagged. However, its effects were undeniable. His throat, raw from shouting incantations, quickly recovered, and the pain in his back gradually subsided. Aside from a profound mental fatigue, his body was well on its way to recovery.

Kael turned his attention back to the Old Man Willow. Looking at its broken, charred remains, he couldn't help but marvel at the power he had just unleashed. This was a tree so massive it would have taken four or five people to encircle its trunk. The Disarming Charm, Expelliarmus, was meant only to disarm an opponent, yet his desperate, emotion-fueled cast had split the ancient Huorn in two. This spell was truly a force to be reckoned with, living up to its reputation as Harry Potter's signature spell, capable of defeating even Lord Voldemort.

Of course, such a powerful outburst had come at a great cost. He was mentally drained, unable to muster even a flicker of magic. He doubted he could even cast a simple Lumos. He would be unable to use magic for the next few days.

"Kael, are you alright?" Drogo Baggins rushed to his side, his face pale with concern.

Kael shook his head. "Don't worry, I'm fine. It's the other side that's in trouble." He gestured towards the remaining Huorns across the field. They were in disarray, many of them having been ignited by the scattered oil and wine, turning into moving bonfires that spread the flames, creating a raging sea of fire. If left unchecked, the fire would undoubtedly spread to the rest of the Old Forest, consuming the ancient woodland.

Kael was powerless to intervene. Not only had he made an enemy of every Huorn in the forest, but he was also completely exhausted, with no magic left and no knowledge of any flame-extinguishing spells. He could only hope for a sudden downpour to prevent a greater catastrophe.

The Hobbits, though kind-hearted, were not inclined to save the enemies who had invaded their home. They stood and watched the fire, content as long as it didn't spread to their side of the High Hay. Some, like Rory Brandybuck, even harbored a secret hope that if the Old Forest burned down, they could expand their territory.

Rory Brandybuck led his family to Kael and bowed deeply. "Wizard Kael," he said, his voice filled with sincere gratitude, "thank you for everything you have done for Buckland! If it weren't for you, tonight we would have lost many of our kin, and perhaps even our homes!"

The other Hobbits followed his lead, saluting Kael in unison, including his good friend, Drogo Baggins. Kael felt a flush of unease. "Please, don't do this. It was my duty." Others might not know, but Kael was certain that the Huorns' rampage was his fault. The Hobbits had been caught in the crossfire. He felt guilty, undeserving of their praise.

But the Hobbits didn't see it that way. Rory Brandybuck, as the Master of Buckland, loudly and sincerely announced to all present: "From now on, Wizard Kael will be an eternal friend of Buckland, and the Brandybuck family will be honored to serve you!"

The Hobbits cheered, witnessing the birth of this new friendship.

Just as the Master of Brandy Hall was about to announce a victory celebration, a new, melodious song drifted from the depths of the Old Forest.

***

(End of Chapter)

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