Lynn stood atop a rise on the outskirts of the fortress.
His right hand gripped his wand, holding it motionless above his head with the tip pointed toward the sky, as though it had been welded in place.
The dark clouds churned above him they were no longer merely a patch. They had merged into a single, unbroken mass.
From the eastern horizon to the western ridge, from the northern cliffs to the edge of the southern forest, the murky gray clouds hung over Feldcroft like a vast cotton quilt, sealing the region beneath them.
The sunlight had completely disappeared.
The layers of gray-white clouds seemed almost alive, devouring the light bite by bite until the earth was plunged into an eerie gloom.
Lynn gazed up at the cloud cover, his eyes narrowing.
It had been nearly ten minutes since the clouds had begun gathering.
Why hadn't Elias come out yet?
Boom!
A tremendous explosion suddenly erupted from within the fortress, as though someone had torn a hole through an enormous drum.
Lynn's legs exploded with power, launching him from the rise like an arrow loosed from a bow.
He moved so quickly that the air behind him burst into a visible ring of vapor.
Soaring into the air, his gaze pierced the murky gloom, passed over the collapsed walls and broken towers, and settled on the fortress's interior.
At the center of the courtyard, Elias stood before the staircase entrance with his wand pointed toward the open ground ahead.
A massive shield glowed in front of him.
It was large enough to block the entire staircase entrance, stretching from the ground to overhead and from one side to the other without leaving even the smallest gap.
Behind it, Wizards streamed out of the staircase one after another.
There were men and women, young and old, dressed in robes of various colors. Terror was etched across every face.
"Quickly!" Elias shouted. "Get out through here! There are people waiting for you outside!"
The Wizards hurried past him and slipped through the gap one by one.
Elias never looked back. His gaze remained fixed ahead, across the courtyard and toward the open area beyond the staircase.
Victor Rookwood stood at the center of the clearing.
Orange-red light danced at the tip of his wand as though something within it were burning, ready to erupt at any moment.
His expression was indescribably ugly, and the shield before Elias was reflected in his eyes.
He snapped his wand forward.
An orange-red beam shot from its tip, arcing through the air before striking Elias's shield with a sharp crack.
The shield's silver-white surface flickered violently at the point of impact before swiftly stabilizing.
Rookwood's lip twitched.
He did not stop.
He flicked his wand again.
A second beam.
Then a third.
A fourth.
One after another, each came faster and more viciously than the last.
The beams struck the shield with muffled thuds, like a sledgehammer pounding against a thick wall.
Behind Rookwood, a large group of Ashwinders was assembling.
They rushed into position, stopped behind him, and raised their wands. Dozens of wand tips simultaneously turned toward Elias.
"Rookwood!" Elias's voice rang out from behind the shield. "Stop being so stubborn! Allying yourself with Ranrok will not end well for you!"
Rookwood sneered.
"Stubborn?!" His voice suddenly rose. "The power of Ancient Magic should have been my birthright!"
He thrust his wand forward, releasing a beam thicker, brighter, and more dazzling than any before it.
The beam slammed into the shield.
"BOOM—!!!"
The resulting explosion was louder than all the previous ones combined.
"Elias! Hand over the power of Ancient Magic!"
Rookwood stepped forward.
"I can make you my lieutenant. Together, we shall rule the Wizarding World!"
He spread his arms as though embracing something invisible.
The moment he finished speaking, a colossal wave of blue-white lightning descended from the sky.
Lynn didn't even need to aim. He merely had to strike the area with lightning, and he was bound to hit at least a few of them.
"BOOM—!!!"
The lightning crashed into the crowd.
Blue-white arcs erupted in an instant, leaping between the Ashwinders like countless burning fuses.
Several of them were charred black by the lightning descending from the heavens.
Their bodies stiffened for an instant before toppling straight to the ground.
The stench of charred flesh filled the air—the pungent odor produced when protein denatured under intense heat.
Rookwood's head snapped upward.
A figure was slowly descending from the sky, his black robes billowing behind him like a banner caught in the wind. The rushing air swept his hair upward, revealing the youthful face beneath.
"Rule the Wizarding World?"
Lynn's voice drifted down from above.
"You should take a good look in the mirror and see whether you're even made of the right stuff."
Rookwood's mind went blank for a moment.
Who was this person?
Why could he fly?
Why could he summon lightning?
Where had he come from?
Why was he helping Elias?
What was his relationship with Elias?
"Who are you?!" Rookwood shouted. "Why are you trying to stop me?!"
Lynn looked at him but offered no answer.
His silhouette blurred.
One second later, he appeared behind Rookwood.
"Leader, look ou—"
Pfft!
The Ashwinder messenger's warning abruptly ceased.
He stiffly lowered his head and stared at the spear of lightning protruding through his body, unable to understand what had just happened.
"What I hate most is being ambushed—"
Lynn pulled the spear from the Ashwinder's body.
There was no wet squelch. The lightning had cauterized the wound, fusing skin and muscle together. The spearhead emerged almost silently, producing only a faint rip reminiscent of tearing paper.
"—and being interrupted while I'm the one doing the ambushing."
The Ashwinder's body struck the ground with a thud.
"Avada Kedavra!"
A Killing Curse suddenly shot toward Lynn.
He tilted his head, allowing the green light to streak past his ear.
Without even turning around, Lynn flicked his wand behind him and returned a Killing Curse of his own.
The Ashwinder had never expected his concealed attack to be evaded so effortlessly. Before he could move, the curse struck him squarely.
"This is too much!"
The words squeezed from Rookwood's throat. His face was flushed crimson, and veins bulged across his forehead.
"What are you all standing around for?!"
He swung his wand violently and pointed it at Lynn.
"Attack him together!"
His voice echoed across the courtyard.
The remaining Ashwinders moved simultaneously, raising their wands and aiming every tip at Lynn.
Dozens of Spells wove themselves into an inescapable net of light within the murky twilight, surging toward him from every direction.
Lynn stood his ground without attempting to dodge. He lowered his head and pointed his wand at the earth beneath his feet.
"Rise."
The ground split apart.
Soil, gravel, and roots surged upward, rapidly expanding, accumulating, and solidifying around him.
In the blink of an eye, a hemispherical wall of earth rose from beneath his feet and completely enclosed him.
The structure was thick, measuring roughly two or three meters across, yet stood only a head taller than Lynn.
Dozens of Spells slammed into the earthen wall at once.
"BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM—!!!"
Explosions erupted across the courtyard one after another, each louder than the last.
Dust and smoke billowed outward, obscuring everyone's vision.
The Ashwinders narrowed their eyes, straining to locate Lynn through the smoke.
But before Lynn emerged, hundreds of ice spikes burst forth.
They whistled out of the smoke in a dense swarm. Each spike was as long as an arm, with a tip sharp enough to reflect a dazzling glint of white light through the gloom.
They flew so quickly that only blurred white trails could be seen streaking through the smoke and spreading outward.
The pupils of the Ashwinders facing the barrage contracted simultaneously.
Some attempted to flee.
Some sought cover.
Others tried to cast Shield Charms.
But it was already too late.
"Pfft! Pfft! Pfft! Pfft! Pfft—!!!"
The sound of sharpened ice piercing flesh erupted throughout the courtyard.
Some Ashwinders were pinned to the walls, a single spike driven through the shoulder and fastening the entire body against the stone.
Others were pierced through the chest, the spikes entering from the front and bursting from their backs in sprays of dark red blood.
Some were struck by several spikes at once—in the head, neck, chest, abdomen, and limbs—turning them into human hedgehogs.
Shrill screams echoed through the fortress, only to cease abruptly less than two seconds later.
Blood and scraps of flesh rained from the air, splattering across the faces, bodies, and hands of those who remained alive.
The dust gradually settled.
Lynn stood in the center of the courtyard.
Fewer than twenty Ashwinders remained before him.
"Kill him! Avenge our comrades!"
Someone shouted.
The surviving Ashwinders gritted their teeth and raised their wands. Once again, Spells surged toward Lynn from every direction.
Lynn moved.
He threaded his body through the gaps between the incoming Spells—stepping left, leaning right, ducking, twisting, and bending.
Some Spells grazed his shoulder.
Others swept past his ear.
Several flew directly over his head.
Not a single one struck him.
His wand spun within his hand.
He pointed to the left.
A Spell shot from his wand and struck an Ashwinder in the chest.
The man's body instantly turned grayish-white, becoming a stone statue.
The statue swayed before crashing to the ground with a heavy thud and shattering into several pieces. Its head rolled in one direction, an arm flew in another, and the torso split cleanly in half.
Lynn pointed to the right.
A beam struck another Ashwinder.
The man's body began swelling instantly, expanding like a balloon pushed to its limit. His skin stretched until it became translucent, revealing the dark red blood and pale bones beneath.
Bang!
His body exploded into a cloud of blood mist that spread across the courtyard.
Lynn pointed forward.
The spectral image of a Graphorn surged from the tip of his wand.
The Graphorn released a low moo, lowered its head, and charged toward the Ashwinders.
It moved so quickly that they saw only a grayish-purple blur before being launched through the air.
One Ashwinder was thrown more than ten meters backward and struck a wall with a crack as his spine snapped. Another was impaled on the Graphorn's enormous horn, hanging there for a moment before being flung aside and crashing to the ground with a thud.
Every fallen Ashwinder was accompanied by a light flick of Lynn's wand.
Every flick claimed another life.
Lynn stood in the blood-soaked courtyard, the hem of his robes fluttering gently in the night wind.
His gaze swept over the remaining Ashwinders as they struggled to survive. There was no anger in his eyes, no pity, and no other unnecessary emotion.
He was merely carrying out the simplest of commands.
Eliminate the enemy.
Rookwood stood at the edge of the courtyard, watching his subordinates fall one after another as despair consumed his heart.
Of the dozens of elite Ashwinders he had brought, fewer than ten remained.
Fewer than ten.
Yet Lynn still stood there, his robes completely spotless.
Rookwood gritted his teeth. Just as he was about to wave his wand and Disapparate, two Cruciatus Curses struck him squarely from behind.
"AAAAHHH—!!!"
His scream tore across the courtyard.
His wand slipped from his fingers and struck the ground with a clatter, rolling several times before coming to a stop a few meters away.
"Did you forget about me?" Elias's mocking voice came from behind him.
"And me."
Standing beside Elias was a blond-haired, blue-eyed Wizard dressed in Slytherin robes. His wand was also raised, making it clear that the second Cruciatus Curse had come from him.
Rookwood curled into himself on the ground. He looked at the blond youth—and suddenly began to laugh.
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