BOOM!
The brilliance of magic collided, erupting into colors as gorgeous as ten thousand fireworks, illuminating a corner of the deep, dark night!
[ROAR!]
The Cerberus let out a deafening roar, its three coarse, ferocious heads swinging wildly. Its fangs were bared in a display of primal fury; the mere sight of it was enough to make one's heart tremble with fear!
With every swipe of its massive paws, a group of wizards was sent flying. Corrosive black flames, spinning like a dark whirlwind, tore through the crowd, searing jagged scars into the very earth.
"Screee!"
The Bird of Death swung its silver-white staff, its cry echoing above the crowd like a funeral knell, sounding like the wails of the damned.
"Hurry, keep up—AAAAAAAAAH!"
Thick, sturdy Devil's Snare burst from the ground, and in an instant, it had coiled around groups of Aurors, sinking poisonous spikes deep into their skin.
"Dammit! What kind of sinister magic is this?!"
One Auror's eyes nearly split with rage. He spun around, only to come face-to-face with a massive, muscular man who was literally steaming.
Cedric Diggory raised a thick, powerful arm. His wand glowed and elongated, transforming into a magical greatsword nearly two meters long. He stared at the Auror, his breath coming in heavy, ragged pants as he rasped:
"Muscles... will never betray you!!!"
The Auror: "AAAAAAHHHHH!!"
The battlefield was a chaotic mess.
The cold, pale moon seemed to have fallen toward the world, crashing down with massive clouds of frost-like mist. It froze the grass, the trees, and even the magic flowing through the wizards' blood. Forbidden curses flew through the sky as if they cost nothing; the Slytherins were giving a masterclass in the philosophy that "the law doesn't mean a damn thing."
"Merlin's beard!"
An Auror with a thick Russian accent shouted in shock, "What kind of horrific training have these students gone through?! How are they more formidable than we are?!"
"Hold the line! Hold the line!"
Minister Scrimgeour roared, desperately waving his wand to fire off spell after spell. "Ignore the students! Priority is the capture of Ethan Vincent!!"
His eyes flickered with a hint of panic. He had fully expected Ethan—who usually loved playing the silver-tongued manipulator—to deliver a long-winded speech. He hadn't expected him to charge in so decisively!
Where's the pre-battle monologue? Where's your sense of martial etiquette?!
...Even if the result would have been the same, Ethan's cold, resolute attitude made Scrimgeour's heart sink. It felt as though something had spiraled completely out of control.
"It's fine. As long as we take Ethan down, this farce will end!"
Steeling his resolve, Scrimgeour locked his gaze on the prominent figure in the crowd. He barked to the side, "Miss Rosier, support me!"
Then, taking a deep breath, he let out a low shout as the magic within him poured out! As if he were hauling up a whaling harpoon buried deep in its prey, he swung his wand with violent force!
"HA!"
RUMBLE—!
The earth shook. Sand, soil, and stone bulged upward like a rising dragon. Ignoring the screams of the wizards falling off the shifting ground, the debris coalesced in mid-air into a pair of gargantuan hands!
They slammed together toward Ethan, who stood at the center!
BANG!
The giant hands snapped shut. The low-frequency shockwave from the impact caused those nearby to clutch their ears in agony.
"Ethan!"
Gemma Farley snarled, turning back to rescue him. But in the next second, her arm was grabbed and she was yanked violently to the side!
"What do you think you're—"
SWISH!
A crimson spell shot past exactly where she had been standing, exploding into a small plume of gray smoke.
Gemma arched an eyebrow and turned to look at Luna Lovegood, who was the one holding her. She huffed, "I suppose you expect me to thank you?"
"No need," Luna replied.
"Hmph... you certainly have a lot of patience," Gemma remarked. "Your sweetheart just got crushed, and you don't even blink."
"Hmm~" Luna tilted her head, speaking with total sincerity. "Perhaps it's because I know that, at this level, Ethan will be perfectly fine."
She looked up, her blue eyes fixed on the massive earthen hands suspended in the air. She whispered, "I can turn into a bright star to light his path to the summit, becoming the most dazzling spark in his painting... but now is not the time."
Gemma's brow climbed even higher. For a moment, she couldn't tell if this was selflessness or pure madness.
Finally, she summarized: "Freak."
On the other side.
"Did we get him?"
Minister Scrimgeour stared intently at the closed earth hands, his breathing shallow.
"Regrettably, no."
A clear, calm voice rang out from behind him.
He spun around instantly, only to find a cold wand pressed against his throat. His gaze fell into a pair of cobalt-blue eyes that looked like a vast ocean—deep, silent, seemingly harmless, and tranquil.
But only upon close observation could one see the terrifying undercurrents surging beneath, ready to devour anyone at any moment!
Scrimgeour swallowed hard, beads of cold sweat forming on his forehead. He raised a hand to wave back the Aurors who were rushing to his aid and forced a smile.
"That miraculous teleportation trick of yours... of course. Why didn't I think of that?"
He glanced down at the wand. "They say that people with OCD keep their wands polished to a mirror shine. I wonder if Mr. Ollivander knows he sold another 'partner' to a Dark Lord destined to destroy the world?"
Ethan nodded slightly. He looked down at the sneering old Minister, his tone remaining as flat and unprovoked as ever.
"The Rose Maze, Super-tier Magic, the Devouring Maw... you know I have a thousand ways to destroy your army of Aurors in a single breath, don't you?"
"Oh, is that so?"
Scrimgeour curled his lip mockingly, showing no fear of the wand at his neck. "Then why haven't you done it? Is it out of some lingering, hypocritical sense of benevolence and morality—"
He stopped mid-sentence.
Scrimgeour's eyes widened as he stared blankly at Ethan. In that moment, he felt a profound sense of "indifference" radiating from the boy!
It was as if a superior being were looking down at an ant. In those cobalt-blue eyes, there was no shame, no anger, not even contempt. There was only that same sea-like silence.
Because there was no need to waste words on a lower lifeform.
Minister Scrimgeour finally began to tremble. A cold sweat broke out across his back, and a chill that reached his very marrow spread from the depths of his soul.
"Who... who exactly are you...?" Scrimgeour asked, his voice shaking.
"Sigh," Ethan let out a very human-sounding sigh of complaint. "Why does everyone make me explain this so many times?"
Ethan opened his other arm, his black hair fluttering as he stood tall under the brilliant moon. An open, yet maddening smile spread across his handsome face:
"I'm just a Ravenclaw art student who is single-mindedly pursuing his craft!"
Madman.
The word flashed in Scrimgeour's mind.
This boy was crazier than Grindelwald, crazier even than Voldemort. At least those two tried to wrap themselves in goals and ideals. But this boy—Ethan Vincent, the [Mr. Lamp]—was like a皮袋 (leather bag) turned inside out, revealing his twisted, horrific interior for all to see, even boasting about it.
It left one speechless.
...And what was even more supernatural was that he had actually managed to gather such a loyal group of followers!
He must be subdued here!
Scrimgeour's throat bobbed. His eyes darted surreptitiously toward Connie Rosier, who was lying in ambush nearby.
Everything was going according to plan.
"Now, you have two choices, Minister Scrimgeour," Ethan said. "First: announce your surrender immediately, so we can unite to face the coming enemy together. Second... you die here, and the authority of the British Ministry of Magic ends with you. Countdown: Three, two—"
As the final number was about to be spoken, Scrimgeour suddenly let out a sharp laugh and spat heavily toward Ethan!
He rasped, "In your dreams, monster."
In the next heartbeat, he whipped his head around and screamed, "Rosier! DO IT!!!"
They had long ago set up a binding array in the surrounding area! From the moment the giant earth hands appeared, it had all been a trap to lure the enemy in deep!
Scrimgeour closed his eyes. He knew he was likely a dead man, but his back remained straight, refusing to flinch. The Ministry had already prepared emergency protocols; even if he died, they would never hand Britain over to this devil!
WHISH!
The sound of the array activating rang out. Scrimgeour held his breath, waiting for a lethal curse to strike him.
...However, seconds passed. Nothing happened.
He opened his eyes in confusion. What greeted him was the sight of Ethan, tied up securely by magical ropes!
Success?! He was still alive? How was that possible?!
Minister Scrimgeour patted his body in shock, confirming he hadn't suffered a single scratch. He felt a sense of vertigo.
Did Ethan make a mistake? Did he fail to kill him in time?
But that was impossible. Someone as powerful as Ethan couldn't possibly fail to cast a simple Killing Curse. If it weren't for the fact that he was standing here and the surroundings were so real, Scrimgeour would have thought he was under an illusion.
...Regardless. He had won.
The Aurors immediately swarmed around, a dense thicket of wands pointing at the bound Ethan on the ground. The binding magic suppressed him, pinning him to the earth, his body coiled in ropes and his arms forced behind his back.
His polished, light-brown wand had rolled away to the side. Now, a single Stupefy would be enough to completely subdue this Great Dark Lord.
"Minister!" an Auror cried out excitedly, raising his wand to cast.
However, he was interrupted by a sharp bark: "Wait!"
Minister Scrimgeour raised a hand, stopping his subordinate. He looked down with a complex expression at the "Third Generation Dark Lord" who had finally been netted. Perhaps because he now held the absolute advantage, he realized for the first time that the opponent was, after all, only a sixth-year student.
He hadn't even graduated. Yet the achievements he'd made and the calamities he'd brought were already comparable to the previous two Dark Lords.
Truly a case of being young and "promising."
"...You have lost, Ethan Vincent—or should I call you [Mr. Lamp]? I declare that you are officially under arrest. I'm afraid you will spend the rest of your life in a coma within the deepest cells. Do you... have any last words?"
In the future, he would likely never be able to use that mouth to manipulate people again.
Amidst the bated breath of the crowd, Ethan's lips mowed slightly. Then, he looked up. He flashed a brilliant, radiant smile at the tense Aurors surrounding him.
"I just wanted to say..."
"You lot really have no idea how insignificant you are."
Mercy is the privilege of the strong.
As his voice fell, Scrimgeour's eyes snapped wide!
He screamed, "Spells! Cast your spells, NOW!!"
"Stupe—Stupef—"
BOOM!!!
The world shook! The ground turned into a literal tidal wave, surging violently!
"AAAAAAHHH!!"
Accompanied by a chorus of screams, the Aurors tumbled and rolled like dumplings in a pot! They clawed frantically at the edges of cracks in the earth; beneath them was a bottomless abyss!
"What?!"
Scrimgeour's eyes were bloodshot. He desperately waved his wand to counter Ethan's power. Then, he realized with horror that he was facing an insurmountable wall!
RUMBLE—
Soil and stone rose, gathering in the air to form several massive spheres, each over ten meters high.
Snap.
The magical ropes on Ethan's body snapped like they were made of wet paper. He rubbed his wrists and said casually:
"I thought the Ministry's ultimate trump card would be more entertaining. Sigh, this was even worse than last time. How disappointing."
The earth and stone formed a throne, respectfully inviting him to sit. Ethan crossed his legs, leaning back and resting his chin on his hand. He looked wanton and arrogant.
Occupying the best viewing spot in the sky, his cobalt-blue eyes looked down with cold indifference at the shocked Aurors below. He raised a hand, and his wand flew back into his palm. He spoke slowly:
"If you're going to do something, you should at least aim for this level."
With that, Ethan gripped his wand. The transformed wand sprouted a blade, which he used to slice his own palm.
Drip. Drip.
Crimson blood—blood that countless evil entities would covet—dripped onto the stone spheres. Like an invisible carving knife, the edges of the giant boulders were constantly polished, shedding a flurry of debris.
Then—
[BAAAA~!]
A raspy, instinctively hair-raising sound erupted from within the stone spheres!
CRACK! CRACK!
The stone spheres shattered like eggs, pouring out the soft, concentrated darkness within.
THUD! THUD! THUD!
Gargantuan, mountain-like monstrosities crashed onto the earth, causing the ground to vibrate incessantly.
[Baaaa Baaaa~~]
The bleating of goats, layered with countless overlapping voices, echoed through the air. The main bodies were masses of writhing black flesh, sprouting countless whip-like tentacles. Within those masses, defying every law of biology, were dozens of greedy, snapping mouths.
Trunk-like limbs extended from the centers as they stood wobbling on the ground, leaving massive, hoof-shaped prints.
"...Supreme Merlin, what kind of blasphemous creatures are these?"
An Auror murmured tremblingly. Looking up at the terrifying behemoths before him, he collapsed onto his backside.
Silence. A deathly silence!
When Minister Scrimgeour faced this unspeakable pressure, he finally realized: when Ethan said he could overturn all the Aurors in one hit, he wasn't exaggerating.
[Name: "Dark Young of the Black Goat"] [Grade: Tier 3 · Golden Legend] [Description: Nüwa created humans using her divine power and clay; you have done the same.] [Effect: The Black Goat will devour everything in its path. It is extremely difficult to kill. While it exists, it inflicts mental damage to all targets within range.] [Evaluation: Do you still remember that you're supposed to be on the Light Side?]
On his throne, Ethan looked down at the sea of dumbfounded faces and curled his lips into a delighted smile.
He snapped his fingers and said softly:
"Alright. You are now permitted to run for your lives."
If you want a weapon to use as a safety net, it has to be at least this powerful~
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