Although I don’t know which master said it, the feel of sixty yards is C, and the feel of eighty yards is D. So... what if the speed is increased to 300 yards?
Whether it is an old rocket or the latest Nimbus 2000 series missile, after they accelerate to a threshold, the windproof charm will open a micro-shield that blocks the airflow in front.
Naturally, there is no need for it at low speeds, but once the speed increases, the oncoming strong wind is completely ineffective even if wearing goggles, and even breathing becomes extremely difficult at that time.
After reaching the full speed of Nimbus 2000, Harry stretched out his left hand.
"Hiss~"
Harry, whose wrist was almost twisted, stopped trying to die. He slowly began to slow down and level his position. Chris, who had been side by side with him for a few seconds, had turned into a small dot. At this moment, Harry, who was high in the sky, Harry seemed to be able to touch the clouds with his hands, and the howling wind blew his robes. The wonderful feeling of becoming the king of the sky made Harry a little ecstatic.
"Hi! Captain! You're here!"
Harry shouted loudly and waved to Chris, but at this moment, Chris was no longer as high-spirited as before. Being left behind by Nimbus 2000 was not an unacceptable thing. After all, the performance of the mount was there, Nimbus The maximum speed limit is half higher than that of Sweeping Nine Stars. This gap cannot be made up by the rider's skills.
What's more, Harry's ability to control the rocket shown at this moment is not inferior to that of Chris, and is even better.
"You're absolutely crazy! So crazy, Harry!"
Chris, who was hovering next to Harry, said viciously. His face was slightly pale now. The two of them were at least two kilometers away from the ground. To be honest, in his sixteen years of life, this was the first time he had flown like this. high.
"Flying has always been a dream that humans long for. People who originally explored the sky tried countless methods. Even if those methods cost them their lives, there are still younger generations who inherit the will of their ancestors and continue to forge ahead."
"Before I came to the magic world, being able to fly into the sky freely like this was something I couldn't even imagine. But now I can do it. I just need to ride it, and I can fly into the sky and meet the eagle. side by side."
"So what if you think I'm crazy!" Harry grabbed Chris's shoulders. This sudden movement made him grip the handle at the front of the rocket even harder, "There is nothing else in the world than conquering the sky. What about something great and exciting?”
"Aren't you afraid of falling?"
Chris swallowed his saliva slightly. He was not afraid of heights, but it was too high from the ground now.
"Fear can be overcome." Harry waved his hand, "Do you know Muggle skydiving? We take an aircraft to an altitude of several thousand meters, and then jump with a parachute bag that has a slight chance of not opening. And, in that world without magic, people are still willing to risk their lives to jump, so how can I be afraid of falling now?"
"Shock-absorbing and slowing down is a spell written in the third-grade textbook. It is also a spell that the wizard must master before installing the seat cushion on the flying rocket. Even if I fall-"
Harry lifted his robes and revealed his wand, "I am a wizard. I will not die, at least not by being thrown to death."
"Perhaps it's because I come from the Muggle world. I understand the amazing power of magic better than many people who have grown up in the wizarding world!"
"Don't we still have to test?"
Harry let go of Chris' shoulders and raised his eyebrows at him, "I have read the Quidditch book and tried some of the techniques recorded in it. Chaser is a position I like very much. For this reason, I came up with a trick that is unique to me and is 100% sure to score goals."
"Really?" Chris, who had a hint of surprise on his face, said with a smile, "I'm the goalkeeper! The best goalkeeper in Hogwarts after Gryffindor's Charlie left."
He puffed up his chest proudly.
"After Charlie? The Charlie you are talking about is the Weasley?"
"Do you know him?" Chris nodded in surprise, "Yes, that Charlie from the Weasley family is also the former captain of Gryffindor. He once stopped Slytherin twenty-seven times in the finals. When he threw the ball, those savage gorillas tried every means to knock him off the rocket. After the game, we found that he had two broken ribs, but he still stayed in front of the goal."
Having said this, Chris showed a hint of admiration on his face, "With this unswerving will, I am convinced of him. Even though I don't think I am worse than him technically, I can't be like him." This is too cruel, whether it’s to yourself or others.”
"It's a pity that Gryffindor still failed to win the championship."
Harry spread his hands helplessly.
"Yeah, those despicable gorillas, Quidditch's disgrace!"
Chris, who made no secret of his disgust for the Slytherin team, spat.
"By the way, Harry, what's the trick you're talking about? The trick that guarantees 100% goal scoring. To be honest, I'm very curious."
Chris, who changed the topic, was still very concerned about this. Although Hufflepuff's daily performance was very dull, it didn't mean that they didn't have any ideas about the Quidditch Cup.
"My dynamic vision is very good. I can clearly see the direction of rotation of a tennis ball driven at a speed of two hundred kilometers per hour. It is a small ball that is only half the size of my fist. Before I came to Hogwarts, I With my athletic ability, even if I can’t become a wizard, I can still accomplish something.”
"And this trick to score 100% goals is..."
Harry paused deliberately, "Is there a Quaffle in the stadium now?"
"Yes, I have put it away a long time ago. How about we go down now?"
"You go down first, captain, and then keep an eye on the left goal. I'm going to throw the ball in from the middle hole."
"The Quaffle is coming!"
Taking out the ebony wood and pulling the trigger downwards, Harry was equally confident in his flying spell.
"Then I'll wait and see."
When climbing, Chris could directly pull up, but when descending, he was much more cautious. It was wrong for him not to panic at such a height. After all, before, he could only fly up to one or two thousand feet to see the scenery, but now... ...It was at least eight or nine thousand feet high. After staying at an altitude of more than two thousand and nearly three thousand meters for a long time, he felt a little out of breath.
Chris, who was descending in a large circle in a spiral posture, was a little slower than the Quaffle. After waiting for a while, Harry, who felt that the time was almost up, moved his hands and feet. He put away his wand and held it under his arm. He caught the ball and then began to adjust his posture.
With a strong grip, he directly pinched the Quaffle with his right hand, then lowered his body and adjusted his posture. Unlike Chris's spiral descent, he had no idea what buffering and deceleration were, and he started diving in an instant.
The Nimbus 2000's speed of 300 kilometers per hour had been completely broken when Harry reached two-thirds of the dive. When Chris looked up, the black dots that kept enlarging in his eyes amplified the shock and disbelief in his heart. Extreme.
"You don't want your life!!!"
The loud curses that came out of his mouth seemed to be shattered by the wind. The veins in Harry's right hand holding the Quaffle were bulging. His strong arm strength allowed Harry to resist the oncoming car with a speed of nearly 400 kilometers per hour. hurricane!
The fleeting figure threw the bomb with lethal kinetic energy the moment it passed over the goal. The howling wind directly blew Chris's body sideways, and the Quaffle...
After penetrating the goal, it slammed into the soft grass of the Quidditch pitch.
A moment later, Harry drew an elegant arc and came to Chris, who was already stunned.
"Give them a hundred courages, who dares to block my ball?"
The white teeth were shining dazzlingly, and the Quaffle stuck in the grass seemed to be making a feeble groan of pain, protesting against this extremely violent throw.
"It's going to be a knockout."
