Amidst swirling snow and shifting light, under the vast sky, a young man cloaked in black stood before the five. Holding a silver crescent blade, his slim and tall figure seemed timeless, exuding a lazy smile as though the earlier confrontation was no more than a pleasant chat about a friendly game.
"What's wrong? Cat got your tongue? So, silence is consent," Augustus remarked casually, stifling a yawn, his gaze carrying a hint of boredom. "Instigating discord, sowing division—barely a few days at Hogwarts, and you've already stirred up so much filth. Kneel and apologize; or do you think you've been wronged?"
Yang Fan's eyes revealed a mix of shock and anger. What they had thought were carefully concealed actions were instead entirely transparent to this native. Yet even so, what did it matter? A so-called fourth-year champion of a magical school, a hothouse flower, had no right to clamor before them—battle-hardened veterans of the multiverse.
"Augustus, don't push your luck," Yang Fan's voice turned increasingly icy. "The family influence you so arrogantly rely on is nothing but trash to us. Don't test our patience. Otherwise, we won't hesitate to erase you and your family from the wizarding world."
"Hmm," Augustus murmured, yawning lightly again, his indifferent gaze fixed on the five before him. "Too much talk. It seems you're unwilling to settle this peacefully. In that case, there's nothing more to discuss."
With a casual wave of his wand, a massive, translucent hand formed in the sky and swept toward the five. The boy named Han Yi barely had time to reach for his sword before the hand grabbed him and lifted him into the air. Under the immense pressure, the frail boy's body emitted faint, sharp sounds as his bones began to shift.
"This is too much!" Zhen Dong, usually gentle and composed, now had fury blazing in her eyes. In an instant, her black cloak turned transparent, revealing a golden armor clinging tightly to her form. A crimson battle suit billowed around her, and atop her head, a golden helmet adorned with feathers materialized. A spear and shield formed out of thin air in her hands, and a white horse galloped down from the sky.
A Valkyrie—Odin's divine warrior—mounted her white steed and charged toward Augustus from the heavens. In the next second, her icy, unrelenting spear of destruction was aimed directly at him.
Augustus' silver eyes remained calm, their depths as tranquil as still water. With a slight wave of his wand, Han Yi was flung unceremoniously to the snowy ground. His wand then pointed at Zhen Dong, and from the skies above came the sound of a hauntingly elegant melody.
A flaming angel descended from the heavens, wielding an enormous sword. The angel's six fiery wings glowed a pure crimson as they spread wide and then folded slightly. In the next moment, the flaming greatsword clashed against the Valkyrie's spear, locking the two in a fierce standoff.
Snowfield Ascension
Han Yi slowly rose from the snow, a rare flush coloring his face. The longsword at his waist trembled faintly as he gripped its hilt, a pale blue glow encircling the scabbard. With a light step, he leaped into the air, walking seemingly on nothing, utilizing the art of Ladder to the Clouds. With another leap, he soared higher into the sky.
The daylight suddenly dimmed. As the blade began to slide from its sheath, the sound of metal scraping against metal resonated. In the next instant, the world was plunged into darkness.
Holding the sword's hilt, Han Yi's face turned increasingly pale. Augustus' silver eyes narrowed slightly as the elegant blade was drawn, its movement slow but deliberate. The sky above tore like a ripped canvas, a single ray of light piercing through the darkness. The moment the sword was unsheathed fully, the heavens erupted with brilliance, an incandescent glow that illuminated the entire world.
A thin line of fresh blood appeared on Augustus' forehead, tracing down in a crimson streak. Han Yi's devastating technique, Sky-Splitting Sword Draw, known as the strongest single-target sword technique, revealed its sharp and merciless edge.
Zhen Dong, still locked in fierce battle with the flaming angel, had a trace of regret in her eyes. To fall to Han Yi's sword skill—it was a worthy end. In their team, apart from the captain, no one could rival Han Yi in sheer offensive power.
Augustus' body fell to the snow, only for a small flame to flicker at his feet. A fierce blaze ignited, engulfing him in blue flames that consumed his form and burned half the sky. From within the pure azure fire, Augustus' body slowly stood upright again, his silver eyes devoid of emotion.
"Body reconstruction? Has his mastery over elemental magic reached such a level?" Yang Fan's face grew grim.
"Ice and Frost."
Augustus returned his wand to his robes, speaking a single word for the first time. Between his brows, an ivory crescent moon appeared. His robes fluttered in the rising winds.
The world became a tempest of snow and ice. In the sky, a complex hexagram glimmered faintly, its violet outlines cutting through the firmament. Centering on Yang Fan, the hexagram's magical ripples expanded. Below, its counterpart etched itself into the snow, a chilling, ancient cold emanating through the hearts of the five.
The falling snowflakes froze in midair. A lone snowbird gliding across the sky halted, unmoving. Zhen Dong, atop her white steed, became as still as amber. Within the hexagram, time and space themselves seemed frozen, with faint tendrils of frost creeping up from beneath the five.
A gust of cold wind swept through the formation, forcing their bodies into submission. The five figures, now motionless like sculptures, knelt in place, their shocked and terrified expressions trapped within crystalline ice.
"What did you do to them?" Harry's trembling voice broke the silence, his shivering frame betraying his fear. The events unfolding before him felt like a surreal dream—angels, swords, knights—all weaving a nightmarish tapestry of peril and death.
Augustus cast a detached glance at the five frozen figures, a faint, indifferent smile curving his lips. "Trivial tricks. The truth of the world, the eternal constant, is magic alone."
With a slight motion of his fingers, the hexagram faded from the world. Life returned to the desolate battlefield as the angel's melody resonated through the heavens. Birds began circling low over the clearing, and pear blossoms bloomed amidst the scattered snow. The white petals, soft and delicate like snowflakes, filled the air before gathering gently upon the ground.
Sunlight broke overhead, draping the scene in warmth. The air carried the tender scent of spring's arrival.
Augustus stood in silence, his gaze cold as he looked upon the five, frozen in icy submission. His expression remained calm, shrouded in an inscrutable mist.
Malfoy stepped up beside him, wearing an expression of smug inevitability. He raised a middle finger toward the frozen five, his gray-blue eyes glinting with scorn. "I told you. Sometimes, choosing the wrong side comes at a price. Idiots."
Augustus allowed a faint smile to play at his lips before turning away. His silver eyes shimmered as his fluttering robes faded into the still, murderous air, leaving behind a chilling silence.
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