"Guess."
The Faceless One, now without a wand, slowly climbed up from the ground, twisting its neck that had been bent by the blow of a gauntlet.
Crack.
With a harsh sound, it forcibly straightened its neck back to its proper position. Standing at the center of the observatory, its arms hung loosely by its sides, its head tilted, and its face—adorned with only a mouth—fixed firmly on Hoffa.
Hoffa remained in a highly vigilant stance.
For some reason, even after snatching the opponent's wand, he didn't feel the slightest bit of relief.
The Faceless One stretched its neck and began clapping.
Clap! Clap! Clap!
After finishing, it spoke with a faint tone:
"Impressive, Hoffa Bach. In just half a semester, you've grown considerably. I'm finding you more and more interesting."
"Who exactly are you, and why are you doing this?"
Hoffa gripped the wand tightly.
"Does it matter who I am?"
Without even glancing at the wand, the Faceless One casually strode toward Hoffa.
"Transfiguration, an invisibility charm to evade harm. I'm curious—do you still have any magic left?"
Hoffa took a step back.
"Why don't you try and see?"
"Don't bluff. I know you too well—your strengths, your weaknesses. I understand them perfectly."
The Faceless One shook its head.
"And you? How much do you know about me? How do you plan to defeat an opponent you know nothing about?"
With that, it raised its hand, fingers tightly together, aimed at Hoffa.
"Will-o'-the-Wisp Bullet."
Five tiny fireballs spiraled out from its palm. Under an immense wave of magical energy, they compressed into a single, bullet-sized, blue flame.
It flicked its wrist, and the fireball shot toward Hoffa like lightning.
The sheer force of the magical energy made Hoffa's hair whip wildly. He gritted his teeth, his facial muscles twitching in shock. He hadn't expected this at all.
Wandless casting!?
How could this thing be so monstrous?
Then what was the point of the wand he had spent nearly half his magic to seize?
The fiery bullet's power was unmatched. Hoffa had very few options.
Phantom Walk!
At the very moment Hoffa vanished, the blue flame the size of a fingertip smashed into the wall behind him.
It erupted into a towering blaze and an earth-shaking explosion.
The entire top of Gorshak's office was blown off in an instant, stone fragments swirling madly in the air.
And it wasn't over yet.
Dragging his greatsword, Hoffa moved swiftly around the observatory. When the Faceless One saw Hoffa disappear, it quickly retreated, silently counting down with its mouth:
Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one!
The moment the ten seconds of Phantom Walk ended, it crossed its fingers.
"Torrent Barrier."
A massive surge of water inexplicably rose from the ground, transforming the entire observatory into a ghostly blue abyss.
The instant Hoffa emerged from Phantom Walk, he began sinking straight down.
Damn it! His expression shifted repeatedly.
Fortunately, there was a stone pillar nearby. He thrust his greatsword into it and clung to the hilt, narrowly avoiding being submerged.
The opponent's combat instincts were terrifying to the extreme. After just one use of Phantom Walk, it had already calculated the exact duration of the spell.
And it still wasn't over.
Standing amidst the raging waves, the Faceless One pressed one hand down.
"Shark Maw."
From the depths of the abyss, a shadow emerged and instantly grew massive.
Boom!
Amidst the splashing water, a massive shark head suddenly emerged from the depths, its gaping maw snapping shut as it lunged to devour Hoffa whole.
Even with all his experiences over the past six months, this unexpected attack made Hoffa's hair stand on end and sent his soul into a frenzy.
There was no way to dodge.
Summoning all his strength, Hoffa gripped the sword hilt and leaped high into the air, executing a somersault to narrowly escape the shark's deadly jaws.
But he was a second too late.
The sharp teeth raked across his side, leaving six deep gashes along his ribs.
Blood quickly soaked his school robe.
The opponent raised its hand again, but a sudden, ominous coughing fit stopped it. Moments later, the watery abyss vanished, and the leaping shark dissolved mid-air into countless blue fragments of light.
It was as if everything had been an illusion.
Thud!
Hoffa collapsed weakly to the ground, still clutching the sword hilt.
The greatsword reverted to being a wand.
Exhausted of magic, Hoffa pressed his hand to his wounded side, leaning against a stone pillar and gasping for air.
At that moment, he finally understood—he had encountered an opponent unlike any he had ever faced.
Someone far more powerful than anyone he had ever known, wielding strength no student could possibly possess.
"What kind of magic is this…?" Hoffa rasped.
The Faceless One slowly approached from the distance, shrouded in a dense darkness that obscured its form. Its face began to shift and deform, features emerging bit by bit until it looked exactly like Miranda.
"You're still claiming you're not Miranda?!" Hoffa exclaimed in shock and anger.
"Is that all you see—appearances?" 'Miranda' chuckled softly.
"You killed the dodo bird!"
"Mm-hmm."
"You let the dark wizard into the passage!"
"Asked that twice now."
"You reported me for bringing the pixie in?"
"Who else could it have been?" The figure, identical to Miranda, let out a derisive laugh. "The arrogant Miss Drasses? Pathetic. Her childish tantrums were just attempts to get your attention, nothing more."
As she walked closer, the suffocating darkness surrounding her made Hoffa feel like he no longer recognized her.
The world had gone mad. It felt like the docile Chihuahua that had always lived by his side had suddenly turned into a ferocious beast.
She stood over him, one hand behind her back, the other placed casually in front. Her gaze was cold and condescending.
"That day in the Violet Chamber, I warned you not to look for me again," she said icily. "But you ignored my kindness."
Blood slowly seeped from his wounds, mingling with the pain of magical exhaustion. Hoffa had never been in such a miserable state—not even when facing Schmidt Lutrov.
He looked up at her, his breath labored.
That face—its gloom, pallor, and cold indifference—was identical to Schmidt Lutrov's.
Taking a deep breath, Hoffa steadied himself.
"I don't understand. What's your connection to Schmidt?"
"That's quite personal. Do you think I'd tell you?"
Hoffa stared into her eyes, his voice low and steady.
"I thought we were friends."
"Friends? Do you even have friends?"
Her expression was calm, but her tone dripped with disdain. "You've never shared your true thoughts with anyone. You've never discussed your secrets or plans with me.
Even when I asked what you were doing in the Forbidden Forest, you didn't reveal a thing. You wouldn't tell me about your connection with the pixies, your late-night escapades, or the potions you were trying to brew.
You've never truly watched Aglaea's Quidditch matches, yet you could compliment her flying with a straight face. You wouldn't spare a moment to join me at the Christmas banquet.
I gave you plenty of chances, but you held your little world above everything else. To me, you've always been cold and distant."
The figure crouched down slowly, her hand gripping Hoffa's collar. Staring him directly in the eyes, she whispered:
"You never truly considered me a friend. Your mind is consumed with yourself. Do you think others will stand still and wait for you to grow? Or do you believe hiding in your little corner gives you a sense of safety?"
Hoffa's face turned as pale as a sheet. In that moment, her icy words pierced him like the sharpest blade, shaking the foundation of his philosophy.
She had torn apart the illusion of warmth between them, exposing the void that lay beneath their relationship.
Leaving him utterly exposed.
At this moment.
Whether it was magic, the body, or the soul, Hoffa was utterly defeated.
His weaknesses were laid bare, understood completely by the opponent. Everything that once seemed reasonable and justified now crumbled under the weight of his surroundings.
The physical pain was no longer his greatest fear.
What terrified him was the crushing blow of that negative energy to his spirit, the relentless interrogation of his soul.
He was left speechless, unable to utter a single word.
The girl let go of him, stood up, coughed twice, and said coldly with her head held high:
"Seeking benefit and avoiding harm is the essence of ordinary humans, but not of heroes, Hoffa Bach. If you want to defeat me, you are still far too unprepared. But this time, you're lucky—someone's here to save you."
As soon as she finished speaking, a black chain suddenly burst from the ground, clattering as it wrapped around the girl's arm.
The moment the chain appeared, she turned her head toward the doorway.
In an instant, countless chains sprang from the floor like serpents, snapping tightly around her entire body.
Her legs, arms, and neck were all bound by the iron chains.
But she showed no sign of surprise, standing calmly in place, her gaze fixed on the shattered remnants of the office's tower ceiling.
Finally, a figure slowly emerged.
He wore a robe of deep blue, his face contorted with rage so intense it seemed to twist his features.
"Get out of my granddaughter's body!" roared Adabe Gorshak.
"Is it so hard to admit my identity and your own mistakes?" The girl's lips curved into a faint smile.
"Silence, monster!"
Gorshak raised his wand.
"Monster? Raising these students like livestock, only to send them off to fight in the wizarding wars. You've lived fifty years longer than me—doesn't that make you the true monster?" the girl retorted with a cold laugh.
"Order comes with a price!" Gorshak snapped.
"And that price includes your own descendants, doesn't it?"
Professor Gorshak fell silent. After a long pause, he finally said, "I'm sorry."
He lifted his wand and pointed it at the girl.
"Spare me your hypocritical remorse," she said calmly. "You never cared about my parents, and you won't care about my life either. Of course, this isn't over—you won't be able to hold me for long. I can feel it."
"I'm sorry," Gorshak repeated, his face growing even paler.
"Do it, old man," the girl said mockingly.
Gorshak stood motionless for a moment, his eyes filled with pain. Then he shut them tightly, and with a sudden slash of his wand, the chains pulled taut, their immense force ripping the girl's limbs apart.
The girl turned her head toward Hoffa, smiling faintly. Her lips moved silently as if to speak.
Although silent, Hoffa clearly saw what she mouthed: "Bye-bye."
As the chains tightened, her neck snapped, and her eyes lost their light.
She collapsed to her knees, swayed slightly, then fell forward onto the icy surface. Her entire body exploded with a loud crack, dispersing into countless black wisps of smoke that vanished into the night sky.
For a long time, silence reigned.
Adabe Gorshak took a deep breath, exhaling a cloud of white mist into the frigid night air. He now looked like a frail, decrepit old man—completely unlike the decisive and commanding figure he usually was.
He opened his eyes and slowly approached Hoffa.
"Did you kill Miranda?"
Hoffa, slumped on the ground, his spirit shattered, stared blankly at the spot where the black smoke had disappeared and murmured, "Did you?"
"No, I can't kill it," Gorshak replied softly. "And it's not Miranda. That was Miller—a mental seed planted by the German dark wizard Gellert Grindelwald in Miranda's mind. As long as Miranda is alive, it will continue to manifest."
Gorshak knelt, pointing his wand at Hoffa's side. His wounds began to close visibly, healing rapidly.
Miller... Grindelwald... a creation of dark magic.Hoffa was speechless. He had heard of Miller before.
A long time ago.
On his very first day aboard the school train, Aglaia had mentioned it. Back then, Hoffa thought she had simply mistaken someone's identity. But now he realized that Miller was real—though not a person but a product of Grindelwald's dark magic.
Hoffa had finally pierced the fog that had been haunting him, only to discover an insurmountable mountain behind it: Gellert Grindelwald, one of the most powerful dark wizards in the world.
Hiding in your little world feels so safe.
Isn't that supposed to be okay?
Since when did being an ordinary person become a crime?
Miller's words had left a profound impact on Hoffa's spirit. Even after Gorshak finished healing his injuries, Hoffa still felt unsteady on his feet.
He leaned against the wall as he got up, picked up his wand, and stumbled toward the exit.
But just then, Adabe Gorshak called out to him.
"Bach, wait."
Hoffa turned, looking at him numbly.
"What?"
"I'm deeply grateful that you took the initiative to stop Miller from sabotaging the teleportation array. That's a bravery few ordinary people possess," Gorshak said in a solemn tone.
"But remember, a true man gets back up from where he fell. Don't let others shake your will. Understand?"
Hoffa opened his mouth in surprise. Those words—normally a run-of-the-mill motivational cliché—now struck his very soul.
Without a doubt, what he needed most at that moment was precisely this kind of positive energy.
(End of Chapter)
Want to read the chapters in Advance? Join my Patreon
https://patreon.com/Glimmer09