Chapter 261: Difficulty Rises Sharply
How powerful is a Muggle rocket-propelled grenade? The three young wizards from pure-blood families experienced it firsthand. In that instant, they felt they were going to die. Their past lives flashed before their eyes in a torrent, and all the emotions they had ever felt seemed to burst forth, blooming into a final radiance as their lives ended.
Voldemort once discovered this extremely peculiar phenomenon of death, a phenomenon that is difficult to observe in Muggles: the soul's scream at the moment of passing. Of course, without exceptional talent, an ordinary wizard would also find it difficult to feel, let alone harness, this "soul's scream" in that brief moment.
Unless... someone was secretly providing a helping hand.
As an unimaginably large and long serpent cut across the river of time, and as their souls were pulled into that temporal current, everything became infinitely long in an instant. Every subtle change within themselves felt incredibly real.
And so, Crabbe's "Soul Bonfire" became like a river of Fiendfyre, descending from the sky and flowing mightily across the earth. The two-colored flames looked like two intertwined pythons churning in the river. It lacked the searing heat of Fiendfyre; it was even healing everyone on the battlefield, including the enemies. It carried the embracing gentleness of Mother Nature, hugging every living thing and gently patting them to sleep.
The Muggles holding weapons visibly calmed down, and the huge, moving stone statues returned to their peaceful state one by one, exuding an indescribable tranquility.
In that moment, which felt like an endless stretch of time, everyone's emotional outburst was so striking.
Cedric still maintained his position, using the Firebolt to push himself in front of the two younger students, Crabbe and Luna, to protect them. He held his broomstick in one hand and waved his wand with the other. A silvery-white shield shimmered into existence before them.
This was a spell similar to the Shield Charm, a Transfiguration summoning charm that possessed powerful magical and physical defenses.
(PS: During the battle at the Ministry, Voldemort used a similar spell to block Dumbledore's attacks.)
This spell had the most prominent characteristic of ancient wizardry: it was both evil and beautiful. It was beautiful because it symbolized love and protection, and evil because it symbolized sacrifice. It could be a power of sacrifice cast with someone else's love and protection, or a power of love and protection released by sacrificing oneself. It all depended on the individual.
With death approaching, their souls cried out in the river of life, and their individual natures were laid bare. Cedric yearned to be a hero; he was a natural leader with an innate power for self-sacrifice. In the face of time, these emotions had no good or bad. People found it hard to distinguish whether they were willing to sacrifice themselves because they wanted to be a hero, or whether their willingness to sacrifice was what constructed their heroic form.
But this was the unique and wonderful essence of an individual's soul.
This soul's essence unleashed its most powerful force in the face of death. The shield unfurled, though it didn't grow particularly large, it enclosed both Crabbe and Luna, protecting them behind it. Its nature didn't even have the concept of space. The grenade exploding in front of them, the wizards casting Finite Incantatem, and even the Full Body-Bind Curse and sniper bullets shot from a distance by those on broomsticks behind them everything was blocked by this magical shield.
It then transformed into an indescribable force that slammed into his mind. The impact was painful; Cedric didn't have such an exceptionally firm belief and will. It was agonizing, but this agony was counteracted by the magical power unleashed from the joy of protecting his friends and becoming a hero. It seemed to once again transform into the spiritual power of sacrifice, love, and protection. The change was so miraculous.
Luna was the most unprepared of the three young wizards. As a second-year, she had to face the reality of Professor Lockhart's repeated lessons about a strong foundation. So high in the air, she was at a loss as to what spell to use in combat. She also didn't know how to defend against Muggle firearms. She was just anxiously urging her broomstick forward, but she found that she couldn't withstand the powerful inertia of the Firebolt's sudden stop. People like her were not suited for battle.
And so, death was inevitable. The grenade exploded in front of her, sending fragments flying. Her eyes widened, and her retina seemed to reflect the piece of shrapnel flying toward her head.
Then, all of time seemed to stretch out endlessly.
She instantly felt the wondrous power of time at work. She seemed to see a great serpent cutting across the river of time, and a dilapidated pirate ship swaying on that river. She seemed to see countless bizarre and wonderful colors blooming before her eyes. The colors merged yet repelled each other, squeezing and twisting. Her eyes became hazy as she stared blankly at the changing colors.
In a daze, she saw a piece of incredibly tender pink detach from the colors, fluttering like a butterfly. She dreamily reached out a finger, watching as it landed in front of her, feeling its communication with her soul, a connection without any barrier or medium. It was called good luck.
She had caught good luck.
The pink wings beat rapidly, and that tender color seemed to quickly fill her vision, filling the entire world in a flash.
Good luck had arrived.
And so, all she had to do was wait for good luck to come. She entrusted everything to this miraculous magic.
Thump, thump~Thump, thump~Thump, thump~
In this stretched-out time, she seemed to become incredibly quiet, so quiet that she could hear her own heartbeat with perfect clarity. She did nothing but stare at the pink, waiting for the change.
The change came so abruptly.
A powerful force instantly surged into this space, disrupting the flow of time. And so, she saw the sky again, heard the explosions and roars again, and felt the familiar sensation of her clothes being pulled by high-speed movement. It was a clear pull back to reality. The whole world twisted and spun. She felt like she was being pulled into a chaotic world where everything was twisting so crazily it made her want to throw up.
Pop!
She stumbled, her body and broomstick crashing to the ground. She waved her hands in a panic, one hand touching the solid ground, the other touching a foot. Then she felt a pair of warm, gentle hands help her up. She looked up and saw the warm, smiling face of Professor Lockhart.
"You kids did a great job!"
Luna quickly looked around and saw Cedric and Crabbe. They were all on a grassy hillside.
Beside them, Dumbledore lowered the Elder Wand and said with a hint of reproach, "Gilderoy, I do not approve of you putting students through such a near-death experience!"
Lockhart released Luna and shrugged innocently. "I think we were in a position to look after them, don't you? Just like you looked after Harry and his friends when they went through those challenges to protect the Philosopher's Stone."
Grindelwald laughed heartily nearby, and Dumbledore's lips twitched. He couldn't be bothered to say anything more. He knew Professor Lockhart was well aware of the difference.
Harry Potter was different. Truly different. For example, in the battle the young wizards had just faced, if Harry Potter had been in their place, with the same Muggles, firearms, black wizards, and stone statues, he might not have needed their rescue at all. This wasn't about power. It was a very peculiar state of being.
But... Dumbledore turned to look at Luna Lovegood. He had just felt a similar kind of power happening in the young witch a magical power akin to divination, prophecy, and curses, operating within the very rules of the world. It was equally wondrous.
Oh, so could this kind of magical power, this kind of magical experience, also be replicated? Dumbledore found it very interesting.
The three young wizards didn't find it interesting. They were terrified. As they came out of the effects of the river of time, the temporal dislocation made them rapidly endure the onslaught of reality. The near-death experience was a frantic assault on their minds. Time travel was not something an ordinary wizard could experience; its effects were far more complex than simply walking from a room to a street and back again.
Lockhart led them to the side and gave them chocolate to comfort them. "Eat some; you'll feel better. And then, remember to recall the feeling of your soul releasing magic after completely breaking through mental constraints. It will be of great benefit to you."
The three young wizards were a little dazed but also thoughtful. Sometimes, magic was actually very simple. It didn't even need complicated theories; it was just a feeling. If you grasped that feeling, you could become a powerful wizard even if you didn't understand anything else.
This adventure was enough to lay the foundation for their future magical paths, as long as they properly savored its rewards. Their professor, Lockhart, had already done what he could; the rest was up to them.
In reality, the battle just now had a hidden safety net that the young wizards had overlooked: the defense system created jointly by the Bogart, the little golden retriever, and Hagrid. The Bogart could block almost all magical attacks, the little golden retriever could block almost all enemies who tried to get close, and Hagrid could block almost all bombs and bullets.
But these were last-resort measures. If their companions had intervened, the three young wizards would not have had this wonderful epiphany.
"Feel it carefully!" Lockhart encouraged them, letting the Sack-Cloak fly above them as a screen, then walked toward Dumbledore and Grindelwald. Now, the real battle was theirs.
"How is it?" he asked Grindelwald eagerly.
"This place has been completely sealed off by my magic," Grindelwald said, smiling at the young wizards behind Lockhart. "That's just like Voldemort, isn't it? He despises these young wizards, but his attention is still inevitably diverted."
This place, a farm in North America, was magically warded, with only a Floo Network fireplace for entry and exit. While it served as a defense against outside enemies, it also made it a forbidden zone. In the field of "castle magic," Voldemort was no match for a veteran dark wizard like Grindelwald. The ocean of magical knowledge was vast, and even Voldemort, whom Dumbledore feared, didn't know everything. This place would now be forbidden to use Portkeys, Apparition, or fireplaces to leave.
So, it was time to trap the enemy and finish the job! Their battle was about to begin.
In fact, Voldemort was already alerted when Lockhart used his time magic on the three young wizards and Dumbledore used group Apparition to pull them out of harm's way. A cloud of black smoke quickly rose from a corner and exploded high in the air, forming a huge skull. The skull opened its jaw, and a massive green serpent of light slithered out.
The Dark Mark!
The original Lockhart had also used a similar spell in his school days, recklessly releasing his giant head into the sky, but the essence of these two spells was completely different. The original Lockhart's spell was a normal marking spell. But Voldemort's Dark Mark had powerful magic, derived from the power of the Horcruxes. It was an extremely unique magical system.
This Dark Mark branded on the Death Eaters' arms was not static; it would change with Voldemort's state. When Voldemort died the first time, the Dark Mark on the Death Eaters' arms faded. When he returned, the Dark Mark grew stronger. After his final death, the Dark Mark would become a powerless lightning scar. It would change to different degrees based on old Voldy's physical state. The Dark Mark on the arm could also be used for Apparition location, as well as to inflict painful punishments on his followers. It could also be used for large-scale spells to distinguish friend from foe, just like Grindelwald's "gas stove," and could even be used as a signal in times of need.
Correspondingly, releasing the Dark Mark into the sky with the Morsmordre spell also had some of the functions of the branded version. There was an incredibly subtle connection between it and the Horcruxes, so subtle that Lockhart suspected the Dark Mark was actually created by Voldemort using a piece of his own soul. He didn't know the exact principle. Secrets of the Most Advanced Dark Arts, which contained all the knowledge of Horcruxes, didn't have any content on this, so it was clear that the Dark Mark was something Voldemort had researched on the basis of Horcruxes.
The path of high-level spellcasting in this world wasn't a secret. It was an effect that would naturally occur once a wizard reached a certain stage. That is, to take a certain spell as a core and integrate all of one's understanding of other spells into it, using that core spell to organize the others, thus forming a powerful system. The most striking example was Grindelwald's "gas stove." Lockhart was also good at it; his exploration of memory and time had also organized and assimilated many magical concepts, but he had not yet unified them into a stable new spell like old Gellert and old Voldy had.
"Dumbledore..." The skull in the sky looked down at the figures on the hillside. The massive echo resonated between heaven and earth, rumbling like thunder.
"Lockhart..."
"Grindelwald..."
"Heh, you've all come!"
Dumbledore gripped the Elder Wand, looking coldly at the Dark Mark. "Tom, you are always so disappointing!"
Behind him, Grindelwald couldn't be bothered to talk to Tom. He waved his wand and released strange, black-ribbon-like magic that obscured everything in the field. The Muggles who were covered instantly panicked, dropping their weapons and scrambling to find a place to hide. This spell obviously had the power of a "Muggle-Repelling Charm," instantly neutralizing the threat posed by all Muggles.
Of course, no matter how powerful Grindelwald and Dumbledore were, their bodies were still made of human flesh. If they were hit by a bullet, they would still have a large hole. Their immense magical power could not prevent that. So, Muggle weapons were dangerous and had to be defended against.
As the ribbons of darkness covered everything, the wizards who were not affected by the charm fled. But a mist that had risen from nowhere made them lose their sense of direction and feel a great heaviness in their bodies.
For a moment, it was as if the whole world had become quiet, with only Voldemort standing above the huge skull in the sky, and the three of them on the hillside. And faintly, the hissing of snakes from the surrounding factories.
(Kill them!)(Attack from behind!)(We are Basilisks! Stare them to death with our eyes!)
The snakes hissed these words as they slowly crawled out of the factories.
It was very peculiar that Dumbledore, Grindelwald, and Lockhart could all understand Parseltongue. Hey, this was no different from a loud conspiracy.
And so, Dumbledore waved his wand, and the mist around them instantly became extremely thick. All that was left was the green light from the huge skull high in the air, which was so conspicuous. Within the green light, the green smoke-serpent that had crawled out of the skull seemed to be slithering and crawling toward them.
BOOM!
In an instant, a huge hole was blown open on the hillside. The three people who were once there had quietly disappeared into the mist, each finding their own position.
This mission was extremely difficult. Facing Voldemort, who was so powerful, they couldn't just kill him and turn him back into a phantom. That would be a waste of a great opportunity. Capturing him alive that was the only way to deal with a Voldemort who still had his Horcruxes.
They had to capture him! The difficulty had risen sharply.
Lockhart loved this kind of adventure. It was too interesting. This time, he was going to rampage with Dumbledore and Grindelwald!