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"But if you don't want to end up as a corpse, stop trying to break through my Occluncy."
Hearing Sagres' words, the woman's eyes finally flickered—a hint of a nearly contemptuous smile.
"Heh~" She tilted her head slightly, her pure white hair cascading down like a waterfall, shimring with a tallic sheen under the moonlight.
Sagres also smiled. His smile held the cruelty of a predator.
"It seems you need a lesson."
Before he finished speaking, Sagres abruptly raised his wand.
A heavy wave of magical shock erupted from him, and countless crisp sounds, like shattering glass, imdiately filled the air—the invisible threads of magic were all broken.
The woman staggered back a step, her already pale face turning even whiter, and her two blue eyes glead with an eerie light under the moonlight.
But Sagres gave her no chance to breathe. His wand traced a dazzling arc of electricity, its tip pointing straight at the night sky: "Thunderbolt!"
In an instant, a lightning bolt as thick as a bucket tore through the night sky, striking down with a deafening roar.
Thunder! Rubbblllllle~~!!!
The dazzling white light illuminated the entire forest as if it were dayti, and a terrifying shockwave erupted the mont the lightning struck the ground.
BooOOoom!!
The surrounding ancient trees carbonized in the intense heat, and a giant crater three ters in diater was blasted into the ground, with crimson magma churning at the bottom. The air was filled with the sll of ozone and scorched earth.
Sagres stood on the giant rock, his black robe flapping in the heatwave.
His intuition told him that the other party was not dead…
The woman's figure had vanished without a trace in the aftermath of the explosion, but his magical perception clearly captured her presence—like a venomous snake slithering in the shadows, ready to strike at any mont.
"Petrificus Totalus!"
A red spell light suddenly shot from diagonally behind, its magical fluctuation so strong that even the surrounding air trembled incessantly.
Sagres didn't turn his head. His left hand quickly drew a perfect arc behind him:
"Protego!"
The silver-blue Protective Shield precisely blocked the Petrificus Totalus, the spell light causing ripples to spread across its surface.
At the sa ti, Sagres's right-hand wand was already pointing in the direction from which the spell had co:
"Frenzy Reducto!"
Violent magical energy burst in the air, instantly tearing trees within a ten-ter radius into shreds. Amidst the flying wood chips, the woman used Apparition again, dodging the explosion.
"Crimson Rend!" Sagres gave her no ti to catch her breath, a mournful red light shooting straight at the woman's throat.
The woman quickly raised a Shield Charm in defense. A transparent, circular shield appeared before her, and the mont the red spell light struck it, it imdiately lted into the transparent shield.
She was astonished to find that her Shield Charm was undergoing a terrifying transformation—spiderweb-like blood-colored patterns appeared on the transparent surface, and then, in the blink of an eye, it turned into countless sharp blood blades, shooting toward her.
The woman was forced to Apparate again, but her figure had just solidified—Huh?
"Spatial Anchor!"
Sagres's wand suddenly thrust forward, and the space within a hundred-ter radius instantly beca as hard as iron.
The woman's Apparition was forcefully interrupted. At the last second, she had to reverse her wand: "Impedinta!"
The gray spell light struck her own body, and her slender fra imdiately flew backward like a broken kite, barely avoiding the strangulation of the blood blades.
Only the hem of her silver-blue robe was sliced off at one corner, leaving her looking slightly disheveled.
"Ashwinder Plague!"
Finally shedding her disdain, the woman waved her wand, releasing dense gray-green smoke.
Countless serpentine outlines could be vaguely seen writhing within the smoke, and the eyes of each "snake" glowed with a ghostly green poisonous light.
Sagres tried to dispel the smoke with "Hurricane's Rampage," but found that this magical smoke clung like a living thing and refused to disperse. A hint of surprise flashed in his eyes, then he lightly tapped his wand:
"Evanesco!"
Silver light, like moonlight, scattered, and the magical smoke began to rapidly dissipate.
Just as the smoke was about to clear, Sagres suddenly felt a sharp pain—a translucent gray snake had coiled around his left arm at so point, its fangs already embedded in his skin.
"Interesting." Sagres sneered, pressing his wand against his arm without hesitation.
With a sharp cutting spell, the gray snake let out a piercing hiss. As a piece of flesh fell, the gray snake was instantly pulled out of his body, turning into a wisp of smoke and dissipating.
At the bite site, the muscle was visibly decaying at an alarming rate.
Sagres's expression remained unchanged. He ran his wand over the wound, and the light of "Vulnera Sanentur" shone. New flesh pushed out the rotten tissue, and wisps of black smoke rose from the wound.
"You are more troubleso than I imagined," the woman's voice echoed from all directions, as if countless versions of her were speaking at once, "but the ga has just begun."
Sagres tightened his grip on his wand, a grim smile curling his lips. "Just as I like it."
"Rain of Sorrow!"
The woman's wand traced an arc, and the sky suddenly darkened. Lead-gray clouds rolled in, and large raindrops poured down.
This was no ordinary rain—each drop carried mories of despair, burning tiny black spots on the skin and directly eroding one's sanity.
Sagres narrowed his eyes, letting the rain slide down his cheeks.
He could feel the negative emotions trying to penetrate his mind—abuse, bullying, injustice, self-doubt… This spell clearly combined the despair-inducing effects of a Dentor with high-level weather magic!
The corners of the woman's mouth curved slightly upward, but her smile quickly froze—
"chanical Mind!"
Sagres's voice was inhumanly cold. All emotional fluctuations were forcibly suppressed, and his entire being beca as calm as still water.
"Incantationem Tempestatum Dissipat!!"
A dazzling black light shot straight into the sky, and magic condensed into a gigantic raven-head projection in the air. In an instant, the dark clouds dispersed, the wind stopped, the rain ceased, and sunlight once again bathed the battlefield.
The woman's expression finally changed, and for the first ti, a look of solemnity appeared in her eyes. Sagres was also secretly alard—this mysterious woman's magic was unfathomable, possibly even surpassing Dumbledore's.
"Protego Muspelheim!"
Hundreds of pale blue Fiendfyre crows roared into existence, forming a tight encirclent. The wings of each Fiendfyre crow burned with cold fla capable of incinerating souls. The battlefield temperature plumted, and eerie frost flowers began forming on the ground.
"I advise you to give up resistance…" Sagres's voice was terrifyingly calm. "Of course, you can also choose to turn to ashes."
The flock of Fiendfyre crows began to tighten their encirclent, and the air was filled with the scent of death.
He had originally wanted to ask the other party a few questions—such as what ti it was.
The woman looked at the dense swarm of Fiendfyre crows, sensed the intense magical fluctuations within them, and finally lowered her wand. "I admit I underestimated you, but…"
She slowly lowered her wand, but just as her surrender gesture was complete, she suddenly looked up:
"Chains of Fate!"
A blue light chain inscribed with ancient runes shot out from her chest, moving faster than thought.
Sagres almost instinctively cast "Protego Diabolica," and a blazing barrier instantly ford. However, the runic chain ignored the defense, passing through the wall of fire and directly piercing his chest.
How can Grindelwald's spell be useless here— Sagres' chanical mind, though.
"It's useless because…" The woman's voice took on a strange cadence, as if she were singing. "Our destinies are linked. Any harm you inflict on will be projected onto yourself!"
Her tone remained steady, but Sagres detected a hint of weakness.
The other party was clearly at the end of her rope; otherwise, she wouldn't have resorted to such a trick.
...
12 chapters ahead on P@treon/DarkDevil1
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