Two days later.
The sun sank low, casting a golden light over the desert. In the Tawam region, near the border between the United Arab Emirates and Oman, Jebel Hafeet stood tall and alone, like a silent giant watching over the endless sand and wide open sky.
A restless wind moved through the quiet, carrying the dry smell of baked earth and a faint chill that hinted at the coming night. The air was thick with dust, making every breath heavy. All around, the desert stretched on, its silence as strong and unrelenting as the heat.
Inside a cave in the mountain, beside a small fire, sat three figures cloaked in dark fabric. Each of them held a container, likely filled with some kind of liquid to drink.
The flickering firelight illuminated their faces. Two of the men were middle-aged, their faces hidden beneath thick black beards. The third, seated between them, was much older—his white beard framed wrinkled skin, though his eyes burned with a sharpness that betrayed his age.
He exuded an undeniable authority, clearly the leader of the group.
"Lord Morvain... are we really going to hide?" one of the middle-aged men asked, then paused, gesturing toward the empty cave, its walls nothing but cold, barren rock. "Here?"
Morvain gave him only a brief, cold glance. It was clear he didn't take kindly to being confronted.
"It is not your place to question me, boy!" he said slowly, his voice low and dangerous.
The man flinched, quickly lowering his gaze in a clear sign of submission.
The second middle-aged man remained silent, fear unmistakable on his face as his eyes darted nervously between the two.
The weight of the older man's presence seemed to press down on them both equally.
The silence stretched on, broken only by the crackling of the fire, before Morvain spoke to the air, his eyes narrowing as he watched the flames dance in the dim light. "Damn you, Garling," he muttered, his voice low and thick with barely restrained fury. "I know it's you behind this... you've always been a nasty thorn in my side..."
The two middle-aged men wisely remained silent, not daring to interrupt Morvain's angry rant.
"You think you can be the hero?" His voice dropped deeper, thick with growing darkness. "You're nothing more than a dog, even with all that power... following your precious laws and hollow ideals like a fool."
The older man's gaze never left the fire, his jaw tightening as he fought to maintain his composure.
After a moment, he glanced at the other two, then returned his gaze to the fire, his eyes now blazing with cold fury. "But no matter," he continued, his voice steady yet laced with venom.
"Once the masses grow quiet, once the fools are distracted, I'll slip free of this mess... Foolish laws can never cage me... they always fail." His words carried a quiet, unshakable confidence, as though he believed nothing—nothing at all—could ever stand in his way.
...
Far, a thousand meters above the peak of Jebel Hafeet, four figures hovered, cloaked by powerful Disillusionment spells that would have made them invisible to any ordinary observer.
Ali and Aisha both floated on broomsticks, their eyes fixed below, while Maverick and Edward stood atop invisible magical constructs, as though they were standing on solid ground.
They all looked down at the mountain below, but only Maverick held a parchment in his hand. His eyes scanned it intently, narrowing as he shifted his gaze from the parchment to the landscape below every few seconds.
"Well, let's get this over with..." Edward muttered, casting a sideways glance at his student. "The space, a thousand meters from Morvain's position, is now blocked by a barrier created using alchemical items."
The two on the broomsticks exchanged a quick look. Aisha spoke up hesitantly, "Wouldn't that make it impossible for the boss to Apparate as well?"
Maverick turned to her briefly at the question, then returned his gaze to the mountain below. "It doesn't matter..." he said flatly, rolling up the parchment. He handed it to his teacher, then added, "I'm starting now."
He raised his hand and glanced at his wrist, focusing on the black bracelet there. In an instant, his attire began to shift. Tiny black particles, almost microscopic, enveloped him, and within seconds, he was cloaked entirely in black. Crimson light flickered from his eye sockets, and a black cape billowed behind him, reaching just past his knees.
Without saying a word, he took a step forward and, in a flash, fell headfirst, allowing gravity to take hold.
...
Inside the cave, Morvain and his two subordinates sat in tense silence, the crackling flames the only sound filling the air. The trio stared at the fire, lost in thought, when Morvain suddenly lifted his head, his eyes narrowing sharply.
For a moment, he stayed still, his gaze fixed on the rocky ceiling as though seeing beyond it. Then, his eyes widened, and he abruptly stood.
The sudden movement startled the other two, and they scrambled to their feet, exchanging nervous glances.
"Something's coming..." Morvain muttered, his voice low. His eyes closed as he tapped into his Magical Sense, probing the area for threats. His subordinates dared not interrupt, though anxiety was etched on their faces. They stood frozen, waiting for their leader's command.
After what felt like an eternity, Morvain opened his eyes. "Apparate out," he barked.
But no one moved. Seconds later, their eyes collectively widened as they tried—and failed—to vanish.
"Ambush!" Morvain hissed, his tone carrying a rare edge of panic. His expression tightened as he added grimly, "We're trapped inside an anti-Apparition barrier." The weight of his words pressed heavily on his followers. Barriers like these weren't something just anyone could set up, especially without alerting someone as adept in Magical Sense as Morvain.
Before he could issue further commands, a sharp warning flared through his senses. His head whipped around wildly, panic flickering in his eyes, the composure he'd displayed moments earlier now shattered.
"It's coming from outside," he growled, rushing toward the cave's entrance. As he reached the opening, he froze, his heart sinking as his eyes caught sight of a massive crimson glow above.
A searing wave of heat followed, and Morvain subconsciously tilted his head upward. His stomach dropped as he saw it—a colossal fireball, nearly a hundred meters wide, descending directly toward them.
"What in the..." Morvain muttered, the words barely audible as he stared at the massive fireball descending upon them, its crimson light casting a hellish glow over the landscape.
His two subordinates stumbled out of the cave behind him, their faces drained of color. One managed to stammer, "Lo-Lord Morvain..." his voice trembling with fear.
Morvain's eyes darted upward, calculating. There was no time. Apparating was impossible, and the fireball was too close and massive to outrun. They had only one option.
"Shields!" he roared, his voice cutting through the panic.
Without hesitation, the three wizards sprang into action. Morvain shouted, "Protego Maxima!", his voice booming with authority as he poured his immense power into the spell.
The two middle-aged men followed suit, yelling, "Protego!" Their voices wavered with desperation, their magic fueled by raw fear and the singular thought of survival.
A dome of shimmering magical barriers materialized around them, overlapping and crackling with energy as the fireball drew closer, its heat now unbearable.
---
A while earlier...
Woosh!
A dark figure streaked through the air like a shadow of death, descending rapidly toward the rocky mountain below.
Maverick focused intently, weighing his first move, before making the decision.
His plan was simple: start big. As the jagged terrain rushed toward him, he extended a hand, gripping his wand tightly, and prepared to unleash the most devastating spell in his arsenal.
Fiendfyre.
The forbidden spell, an EX-rank incantation banned by nearly every magical authority, was one of the most direct ways to cause destruction. Maverick had learned Fiendfyre months ago during a visit to Russia, exploring the darker parts of their magical community—a place similar to Knockturn Alley in London.
Fiendfyre wasn't the only forbidden spell he had picked up over the past year. Maverick had sought out banned magic from all over the world. He might not need to use them often, but it was better to have the knowledge and not need it than to need it and not have it. In his mind, knowing forbidden spells was an advantage worth the risk.
What made him even more dangerous was his ability to cast spells without a wand. This skill left no trace behind for anyone to detect, making it almost impossible to link him to any magic he used.
Right now, the wand in his hand was just for show. The magic wasn't coming from it but directly through him. It was a secret he kept from everyone—even his friends and his teacher. To Maverick, letting people think he needed a wand was a useful deception, one he intended to maintain for as long as possible.
With advanced proficiency in Fiendfyre, Maverick had gained enough control over the deadly, cursed flames to direct their destructive force with precision. However, he hadn't yet reached the legendary mastery of Grindelwald, who could manipulate the inferno as though it were a loyal pet. Maverick was close—so close that one more upgrade in the spell could grant him that same control. But the price of a thousand points was too great, so for now, he chose patience.
Gripping his wand tightly, he pointed it toward the mountain. The words of the forbidden incantation slipped from his lips like a whisper, soft but charged with deadly intent.
A roar of crimson flames erupted from its tip, rushing forward like a living entity hungry for destruction. Maverick poured his raw emotions and power into the spell, feeding the fire with all the magic he could muster.
The inferno grew, expanding rapidly until it was nearly a hundred meters wide. With precise control, he locked onto Morvain's location using his Magical-Sense and unleashed the monstrous blaze.
As he neared the ground, he slowed his descent and stopped, hovering about three hundred meters above the mountainside. He watched as his creation continued to fall, beginning its destructive work below.
The Fiendfyre roared as it engulfed the mountainside, devouring everything in its path.
For a brief moment, he caught sight of them—three figures scrambling in panic, conjuring shields to defend themselves. Maverick's expression twisted into one of disdain, the flicker of their resistance meaningless in the face of such raw devastation.
And then—
BOOOOM!
The flames surged like a living beast, spreading with terrifying speed and precision. Rocks melted into molten rivers, the mountain itself screaming under the relentless assault. Maverick floated above, his cold gaze fixed on the chaos, the Fiendfyre turning destruction into art.
...
"Son of a..." Edward muttered under his breath, his eyes wide as he watched from far above. He knew Maverick must have gained a wealth of new magical knowledge during his travels over the past year, but seeing Fiendfyre unleashed—especially with such raw power—nearly made him curse out loud.
The two people beside him, flying on broomsticks, stared in shock, their mouths hanging open at the sight below.
The time was just after sunset, and the sky had already begun to darken. But the blazing inferno that Maverick unleashed below lit up the surroundings so brightly that it was possible to see for miles.
Edward glanced briefly at the two beside him. In his eyes, they were amateurs—just Magus rank, their power insignificant. But they were his pupil's first subordinates, so he didn't ignore them.
"Fly up another half kilometer," he instructed calmly. "The shockwaves will reach this distance."
Ali and Aisha snapped out of their shock at Edward's words and exchanged a look, momentarily silent.
"But we're already a kilometer up..." Aisha spoke hesitantly, but before she could finish, a powerful gust of wind slammed into them. The force was so strong that Ali and Aisha lost control of their broomsticks and were blown away.
"Aaaa!" Aisha screamed as she lost her grip on the broom and was sent tumbling through the air.
Ali, though silent, suffered the same fate.
Fortunately, Edward remained unaffected. The gust of wind had no impact on him. Even his clothes remained perfectly still, as though an invisible barrier had shielded him from the force.
With a flick of his hand, he drew on his magical energy and effortlessly caught the two Magus and their broomsticks, preventing them from being blown too far away.
With a simple gesture, Edward brought them back to his side, conjuring a magical platform for them to stand on.
The two of them looked at him gratefully, though a nervous gulp escaped as they took in the man's power. "Th-thank you, Mr. Speaker..." Ali stammered.
Edward gave a small hum, nodding slightly, and willed them to ascend further. Together, they hovered in the air, watching the battle unfold below them.
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Author's Note:
Just a quick update — up to Chapter 84 is already available on P AT r30n!
PAT r30n [.] com / RyanFic