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The black blades sliced through the rocky skin, leaving a dozen or so thin wounds on the demon centurion, which from a human perspective, appeared like it was being flayed alive. However, these injuries were inconsequential from the centurion's viewpoint, as they healed almost instantly.
In just a blink of an eye, the demon centurion absorbed the magic from Harry's Sectumsempra, healing without expending any energy. In fact, the surplus magic even strengthened its body.
Despite knowing this, Harry continued to rain down an overwhelming barrage of bullets from Ivory. The dark armor covering his body visibly thinned, and the chaotic, rootless energy sustaining it couldn't last much longer.
Harry gazed coldly at the reckless giant charging toward him. When the cracks on its chest were enough, a blast of crimson flame erupted from the ebony gun barrel.
"Diffindo!"
When the Severing Charm hit the region riddled with fine cuts, it gained maximum environmental bonuses, forming a deadly synergy with Sectumsempra. Harry didn't have the required spell-casting attachments, but he did have twin brotherly guns.
The magic source for both spells was the same. The perfect combination of two different spells magnified the Severing Charm's power, instantly dismembering the demon centurion's magically resistant chest. Through the numerous deep cracks, Harry could vaguely see the blood-red veins and glowing points connecting to the magic core.
At that moment, the rain of dark blades vanished, replaced by a looming threat of death over the demon centurion.
"Confringo!"
There was no time to block it!
The giant gash on its chest couldn't be concealed by a single arm. The Blasting Curse, trailing red light, burrowed into the shattered wound one after another. A massive fountain of blood erupted, filling the room with a strangely sweet scent. After completely destroying the magic core, the seemingly indestructible monster crumbled into countless pieces, falling to the ground in a pile of rubble.
Nicolas Flamel hadn't lied to Harry—the Philosopher's Stone had indeed purified his magic. Harry had once seen the magic of an ancient Hufflepuff ancestor; it was a dark silver, like the flowing Milky Way, with stars embedded in the black velvet-like canvas, slowly moving with the current.
Unfortunately, Harry's purified magic lacked those stars. The original silver-gray had darkened to black, matching the black armor covering his body. The only difference was the absence of the malevolent chaos that would make even Satan bow.
Harry hadn't noticed this change before. He had simply assumed that it was due to the chaotic energy being absorbed into his body, covering the silver in black, unaware it was the result of purification.
Harry only realized the power of ancient magic after casting spells. Although the dark blades of Sectumsempra seemed the same, the increased magic quality had amplified their intensity. What previously only scratched the surface now cut through the demon centurion's thick, resistant skin. The Severing Charm penetrated its outer defenses, and the final Blasting Curse finished what had been impossible before.
The demon centurion, reduced to rubble, seemed to trigger something within Voldemort. He had already realized his plan was falling apart. Stunned for a moment, the unexpected change forced him to abandon his original strategy. With a flick of his hand, a bolt of deadly green light shot through the disintegrating stone giant, aimed directly at Harry's chest.
With a swift sidestep, the Killing Curse barely missed him. While the Avada Kedavra had the lethal precision of single-target spells, its relatively slow speed remained its flaw. Nothing in this world is perfect—not even magic.
"Thirty seconds left."
As their eyes met, Harry spoke softly.
"Before the potion wears off, either you kill me, or I'll kill you."
"Only one of us can survive. That's what the prophecy says, right?"
The silence in the underground chamber was shattered once again by the thunderous sound of spells. As the power of the spells increased, the counter-curses Voldemort used against Harry's magic began to falter. These countermeasures, designed to conserve energy, should have been highly effective, reflecting his superior battle skills. Voldemort, a master duelist, was utterly crushing the still-inexperienced Harry.
But Ivory's relentless barrage of bullets flattened that skill gap in the most brutal way possible. The simultaneous release of over a dozen spells, even for Voldemort, was a headache before his full power had returned.
Each individual spell had a built-in cooldown. Although powerful wizards had ways to reduce these cooldowns, it came at a huge mental cost.
It might work for a while, but as time passed, even Voldemort couldn't keep up with the intense spellcasting.
What vexed him most was the unexpected shot from Harry's ebony wand. The absurdly powerful spell couldn't be blocked by a counter-curse. Instead, when his spell collided with Harry's, it passed right through. After taking a well-placed Blinding Hex, Voldemort, deprived of vision, was immediately blasted by Ivory's assault, leaving him crippled.
A figure made of black smoke darted about, evading desperately. A deep sense of humiliation consumed Voldemort. Never in his life had he imagined that he would be chased and beaten by a mere eleven- or twelve-year-old. Once he regained even a tenth of his power, he swore he would hang this wretched brat up and torture him for three days with the Cruciatus Curse!
"Ten seconds... five... three!"
Voldemort counted down anxiously in his mind, waiting for Harry's potion to wear off. He didn't want to fight the rabid dog chasing him. What little magic he had left needed to be saved for more important things. The weakness of his phantom form was a nightmare he never wanted to relive. Once his power was gone, even those who had once knelt at his feet would no longer obey him.
But as he counted, Voldemort grew confused. He'd already counted five sets of thirty seconds, yet the rabid dog chasing him was still full of energy.
Half of the black mist that made up his body had already dissipated! In just a few more minutes, he would be worn down to death!
"You dare—"
"Trick you?"
A piercing, mocking laugh echoed in Voldemort's ears. Even without turning around, he could see the devious smile on the face of that cunning brat.
"I apologize, truly. It wasn't intentional," Harry taunted, then added with a sneer, "So, would you kindly die peacefully now?!"
The ground suddenly shook and cracked, sending violent tremors through the room. Caught off guard, Harry's spell faltered slightly. In that instant, Voldemort lowered his stance and vanished into the room, transforming into a cloud of black mist that slipped into a crack he'd created. Though he couldn't pass through solid matter in this form, his vaporized body could weave through even the narrowest gaps, allowing him to escape with serpent-like agility.
"Dig Three Feet!" Harry shouted, relying on his keen magical senses to track Voldemort's aura, now thoroughly familiar to him. Switching spells without hesitation, Harry conjured a thirty-meter-long tunnel with a single incantation and leaped into the darkness, mounting a gleaming new Nimbus 2001 as his ride.
He couldn't afford to let Voldemort escape beyond the magical protection covering Hogwarts. Once Voldemort reached an area where he could use Apparition, Harry would lose him completely.
The gap between the tunnel Harry had carved and the chasm Voldemort had entered was only a few meters. With time, this distance dwindled further as Harry closed in on the black mist's tail. When he was nearly within reach, the ground gave way to a vast hollow cavity. Glowing spheres shot from Harry's wand, illuminating the cavern's true form.
It was a colossal underground cave with a knee-deep underground river, around five or six meters wide, gurgling away. The sound of flowing water was the only melody in this dark chamber. Voldemort, in his clouded form, raced along the river's edge, as though he knew this place in the depths of Hogwarts existed and seemed to be searching for something.
After racing several hundred meters through the darkness, Harry noticed a faint glimmer of light as he turned a corner. Outside, it was nighttime, but a sliver of moonlight streamed through a crevice, brightening the pitch-black cavern.
Green moss clung to the river's banks, with patches of low grasses and tiny flowers thriving under the gentle moonlight. Harry's gaze fell upon a spot where moonlight filtered through, revealing a nearly transparent barrier. He realized they were still within Hogwarts' magical protection field, and that this cave's only connection to the outside world was similarly shielded by the castle's magic.
This might look like a potential exit, but the magical barrier was impenetrable. Breaking through would require either the power to challenge all of Hogwarts or severely damaging the castle's internal magical network, weakening the barrier enough to break it. Since Hogwarts was originally constructed as a fortress, it could transform from a school into an impenetrable stronghold when necessary.
As Harry's glowing orbs lit the scene, he saw Voldemort dart into a sunken pit at the cavern's center. There lay a circular platform surrounded by a trench so deep it seemed bottomless, as though it hovered over the abyss itself.
Floating above the platform was an inverted cone-shaped island, tethered by vine-like structures clearly crafted by magical means. Harry noted a faint, familiar red glow emanating from the floating island, stirring a sense of recognition. The island had likely been crafted by some powerful mage or ancient force, though its purpose remained unknown to him.
Voldemort's destination wasn't the floating island above, but the platform below. As light illuminated the scene, a strange shadow appeared before Harry.
It was a grotesque dragon-shaped fossil, its body entirely black, reminiscent of obsidian. Though dragon-like, it bore little resemblance to any dragon Harry had ever seen. It looked more like an underdeveloped Hebridean Black Dragon draped in a flimsy, hollow exoskeleton that offered no real protection, giving it an eerie, unsettling appearance.
The most striking feature was a tumor on the dragon's chest, shaped like a grotesque goblin. Even in death, the goblin wore a grimace of agony, as if it had died amidst severe torture. Although fossilized, its suffering had been preserved, leaving Harry with a chill in his heart.
He knew this sensation well. His black armor was now a mere thin layer, and the chaotic malice that defined it encountered an equally dark, oppressive aura in this place. Although distinct, the two forces seemed oddly aligned—one was unbridled chaotic evil, and the other was a ruthlessly lawful evil.
These two extremes of malevolence collided in this moment. Sadly, the lawful evil power had long dissipated, leaving only a faint residue of its once-powerful will.
A fleeting image crossed Harry's mind. "Could it be you, Hufflepuff's predecessor?"
In Harry's understanding, only that unnamed Hufflepuff predecessor could embody lawful evil. The deeds he'd done exemplified the term, enforcing his principles with brutal and merciless efficiency. Poachers and dark wizards alike fell at his hand, painting the Forbidden Forest red in unprecedented slaughter.
Like a spider's web, his deadly hexes were designed for mass killing, with tracking and targeting enchantments. His deadly green hex was leagues more terrifying than Voldemort's killing curse—a hundred times more lethal!
A dark blur crashed into the fossilized dragon. Voldemort's purpose in coming here was apparently tied to this peculiar dragon fossil. Watching Voldemort charge forward, Harry sighed in exasperation. "Am I seriously going to have to slay a dragon? Zombie dragons count, right?"
The dragon fossil shattered, halting Harry's musings. Instead of reanimation, a crimson light shone eerily amidst the darkness.
(End of Chapter)