allendalepharm Chapter 271 Dementors, Twisted and Pieced People
Chapter 271 Dementors, Twisted and Pieced People
Chapter 271 Dementors, Twisted and Pieced People
The magical bloodline that Dementors exhibit is extremely unique.
It possessed a kind of 'dominance' that Lockhart had never felt before, namely, the magical bloodline itself was bursting forth with powerful magical energy.
This was completely beyond the theoretical framework he had built up during his observation and research on magical bloodlines—that magical bloodlines could unleash powerful magical energy without relying on the actions and activities of a real physical body?
Are you kidding me?
Lockhart didn't understand.
He was extremely careful not to put the Dementors into the "Fairy Tale Book," a magical item, fearing that it might be damaged as a result.
Compared to fairy tales, physical isolation seems to be a more suitable method to block the power of Dementors.
So the stone house that the young wizards were building came in handy.
There's no need to completely build it up. There's a fully enclosed room inside. Use Transfiguration to create a door, go inside, and restore the effect of the Transfiguration spell. You'll then have a perfect experimental space for dealing with Dementors.
The young wizards had big ambitions; the houses they built had huge interior spaces. The stone-built, pointed-roofed houses had a height of five meters, making them very spacious.
Lockhart opened the suitcase, released the Dementor, and looked up to carefully observe the magical bloodline that was faintly revealed as it flew.
Before long, frost began to form in every corner of the seemingly spacious room, and the cold air disturbed the interior, making people feel suffocated and lost in the enclosed space.
Lockhart did not completely ignore such influences.
He could also clearly feel this emotion slowly growing deep within his heart.
After tilting his head and looking carefully for a while, his friends appeared beside him to help.
The little golden retriever jumped out of the pocket, opened the fairy tale book in its hand, and let Ms. Mary, who was helping Bella with her experiment, out.
Outside the house, the upside-down corpse of Boggart and the Oblivion Curse mist created by the Winged Demon guarded against any unexpected events that might occur outside the experiment.
The burlap sack cover danced above Lockhart, forming a safety barrier inside the house together with the little golden retriever.
Finally, there's the fairy who died unjustly. She still resides deep within Lockhart's heart, serving as his main reliance and trump card in secret during his adventures.
Lockhart turned and glanced at Ms. Mary.
"I'm at your service anytime," Ms. Mary said respectfully.
He nodded, gently waving his wand. A long, serpentine phantom appeared, rapidly traversing the threads of time, like a train carrying him back along the traces of time.
In the chaotic vortex of the river of time, Ms. Mary, holding the Time Converter, had become a shattered shadow, following closely behind.
"Watch out!" The vengeful fairy sensed the problem and exclaimed in her heart, warning Lockhart to be on high alert.
boom!
Lockhart suddenly felt a strong tremor, as if he had crashed into a huge cloud of cotton, making it extremely difficult to move forward again.
The snake continued to move forward, but its speed became increasingly slow, and every little bit of distance it extended seemed to require a great deal of effort.
Lockhart slowly shook his wand, trying to sense the information coming from the outside world.
Finally, after an unknown amount of time, a dark yet translucent vortex appeared before my eyes.
The gloom here is a terrifying magical aura, as if everything is about to wither away.
Brightness wasn't a good feeling either. Lockhart felt as if his soul and body had malfunctioned, causing him to gaze ahead through the senses of his soul within this vortex of time.
Ahead...
The wizard's robes, seemingly without end, fluttered, and from the very edge of the tattered frame, a terrifying, eerie wind howled, as if to scatter his very soul.
"Protect the Gods!"
Lockhart hadn't used incantations to invoke the power of his guardian spirit in a long time, but he was now casting this magic with extreme caution.
A hazy silver light appeared on his body. Pegasus, with his powerful guardian deity state, could not solidify and could only exist in his most basic form.
Fortunately, the power of the guardian deity was indeed able to restrain the power of the Dementors, and he felt much more relaxed.
Soon, he was pulled by the long snake into the hole in the middle of the huge, tattered wizard's robe.
A passage appeared in the hole.
A deep, dark passage.
Lockhart finally landed on his feet, but he didn't feel any solid ground; instead, the whole world seemed to have become chaotic and bizarre.
He slowly walked forward, and the further he went, the more he could see the howling vortex of cold wind in the passage beginning to condense into frost. Patches of frost twisted and turned like oil stains, displaying all sorts of strange, chaotic, and colorful images. The images also twisted and interacted with each other, creating a chaos that made him feel nauseous.
Lockhart felt as if he had entered some kind of realm of the dead.
Everywhere was filled with the paleness of life's colors fading, yet within that paleness burst forth the most intense breath of life, though it was broken.
This road seems to have no end; no matter how far you go, it always gives you the illusion of standing still.
Lockhart pondered for a moment, then used the magical trick Dumbledore had taught him: "Telepathy!"
The wand danced, tapping lightly.
In an instant, all the pale, oily-colored light fragments in front of them shattered, turning into billowing smoke and dust that surged into the passage.
He vaguely saw a strange figure.
Amidst the swirling, eerie winds, faint, layered cries echoed: "Extis! Extis! Extis!..."
This is a person's name.
Lockhart had heard of this wizard; he was the owner of the island castle before Azkaban was converted into a prison, a powerful dark wizard who often captured sailors passing by the islands and tortured and studied them.
"No, no, please spare me! I can't die! My daughter from my hometown is waiting for me to go back!"
The piercing scream suddenly became clearer. Lockhart walked forward and saw a Muggle bound to the wall in front of the strange figure.
It's unclear whether he was a sailor or not; he looked more like a beggar.
He was staring in horror at the strange figure before him.
It was eerie because the black wizard in front of them was floating, and his body was so shriveled that he looked like a dried-up corpse. Of course, a more vivid description would be that he looked like a Dementor.
The black wizard's laughter was eerie, sharp, and piercing.
He seemed to enjoy the fear in the Muggle in front of him, slowly raising his dry, slender fingers that resembled dried duck necks, the black fingernails at the ends gently pressing against the Muggle's forehead.
"No! No~~~! No!!!"
The Muggle screamed in terror and suddenly exploded.
It wasn't the kind of explosion that happens when something explodes; it was more like a scene of a well-built castle of building blocks collapsing.
It turned into pieces.
The change happened so fast that the scene flashed before Lockhart's eyes, and before he could react, the Muggle in front of him was plastered on the wall.
Using "muddy" to describe it is not appropriate.
It should be said that this Muggle turned into a large number of fragments, which were randomly pieced together on the wall to form a bizarre combination.
Toes and eyeballs squeezed together in a ring, and messy hair peeked out and hung down from the navel.
This is……
The Transfiguration Charm, one of the four major domains of Transfiguration!
Lockhart was seeing this kind of spellcasting technique for the first time—it was so disgusting yet so clearly sophisticated.
"No~~~"
The mouth in the lower left corner of the pattern pieced together on the wall is still opening and closing, but there are no teeth or tongue inside, and the cries have become exceptionally distorted.
Yes, that Muggle is still alive.
Moreover, a strong aura of magical power began to emanate from his body!
Lockhart stared in amazement at the scene before him, at the magical aura emanating from the Muggle, an aura that was beginning to resemble the magical characteristics of a Dementor.
More importantly, he could actually understand what kind of magical experiments the dark wizard was conducting.
That is the constancy of life before death.
Voldemort once discovered that a powerful magical force is released at the moment of a human's death, and he used this force to create Horcruxes.
The dark wizard before them seemed to have also set his sights on this power.
Unlike Voldemort, he cared more about constant power.
Thus, the Muggle in front of him was experiencing an emotional outburst before death, but he did not actually die, remaining in the state before death.
To stabilize the powerful magic emanating from that soul.
Do not!
It's not just experiments in this area.
Lockhart was quite certain that the focus of the magical research designed by the dark wizard in front of him was a state of human emotion erupting, or even erupting to its extreme.
Emotions are the best nourishment for the explosion of magic.
This dark wizard attempted to distort the Muggle's body, deliberately creating a state of collapse that the Muggle could not comprehend, causing the Muggle's mind to shatter into countless pieces along with the body's cracks, and then combining this with the twisted and misaligned state caused by the misalignment, even completely misaligning with the soul, so that this magical activation state, which the wizard could not possibly perceive, would be revealed.
This is undoubtedly an extremely cruel but truly revolutionary study that could overturn the wizarding worldview.
It turns out that Muggles can also possess magic.
But this wizard was clearly not content with such research results. He touched and licked the wall covered with Muggle fragments, feeling the magical power that was not so obvious to him.
"Rhythm..."
The eerie dark wizard murmured, "This is the feeling of rhythm. Emotions and the body change in sync, and magical power emerges from it."
Lockhart's eyes lit up amidst the surrounding mist.
With just this one sentence, he seemed to have found the key to Lupin's research on "wolf voice".
— Emotional changes and physical changes occur in sync.
That's a good direction to try.
"Destruction..." the dark wizard continued to murmur, "Devour... Slaughter... Deathly silence..."
"One thing is still missing, there must be one thing missing!"
"It's incomplete, it can't be complete!!!"
He screamed in agony, unable to find answers in the Muggle before him. He frantically drew his wand, which extended into a whip of condensed lightning, and hysterically lashed at the Muggle, shouting, "What is it? What is it?"
Muggles can't provide the answer.
Even the black wizard couldn't find the answer.
He longed for an answer, and Lockhart, shrouded in mist, pondered the relationship between the four words he uttered.
Ok……
It seems like we can't analyze anything.
But it sounds like all four of them fall under the category of dark magic.
Even if this dark wizard Extis lived in an era before the fifteenth century, such a bias towards dark magic would make one feel his evil nature very directly.
Lockhart frowned and listened intently to the dark wizard's muttered ravings.
"Slaughter brings deathly silence..."
"Devouring brings slaughter..."
"Destruction brings devouring..."
"Deathly silence constrains destruction..."
"There must be some kind of connection here! Damn it, damn it, what is it?!" The black wizard frantically clenched his fist, looking like he was about to explode.
In fact, he really exploded.
With a loud bang.
It exploded completely, turning into a plume of black smoke.
Wherever the black smoke passed, the Muggle figure on the wall that had been "disassembled and reassembled" instantly lost all its life force. Even though it still looked alive, it gave people a sense of emptiness.
This is……
"A Dementor's Kiss?"
Lockhart couldn't help but gasp in surprise. He saw a wizard using some method to cast a spell similar to "Dementor's Kiss" on a Muggle.
Did it absorb the other person's soul?
How did you do that?
This was completely beyond his comprehension.
It's important to understand that even spells like the Imperius Curse are essentially only effective at the level of the 'mind'. The only spells he'd ever encountered that truly involved the soul were Horcruxes.
Even Horcruxes don't actually change the state of the soul. When Voldemort died, his soul could still appear as a "wandering spirit." Horcruxes are more like nails made from fragments inserted into the river of time.
Lockhart quickly lost interest in thinking about these things.
As the dark wizard exploded, the Muggles pieced together on the wall crumbled once more, each fragment rolling off the wall as if it had lost its support.
As it rolled to the ground, slender legs and feet grew out of it, and a mouth full of fangs split open from the very center.
They turned into one strange-looking "little man" after another.
The little ones babbled and cried as they landed, then held hands and formed a circle, jumping and hopping as if celebrating their new life.
Then, they all turned their bodies around, and although none of them had eyes, they all seemed to be looking at him coldly.
"Kill him!"
A tiny figure formed from a foot pointed at Lockhart and shouted.
So they all charged toward Lockhart, yelling and shouting.
"Repel them with all your might!"
Lockhart casually cast a spell, confident that this part, having lost its soul and left only with its mind and body, posed no threat whatsoever.
Sure enough, as the spell was released, these little people were swept away as if they had encountered a god-level typhoon.
The interesting part is that...
They hit the wall and all of them stuck back to it, as if they had always been there.
However, not long after, they jumped down from the wall again.
Strangely, as if the wall had become an integral part of them, they once again unleashed magical power, seemingly jumping down, while the original wall remained intact.
clone.
They are being replicated indefinitely.
Lockhart could no longer ignore its presence.
These strangely shaped little people quickly gathered into a sea, surging towards Lockhart's direction.
"Ya ya ya ya..."
Their cries merged together, and even began to exude a twisted and chaotic magical power.
Lockhart saw the power of transfiguration in them, saw new scenarios of magical activation, and most importantly, they all began to exhibit a kind of 'non-existent' magical power.
"This is……"
"Elves?" Lockhart quickly recalled the memories of the forest witch, staring in astonishment at the little trinkets before him.
Soon, in the distorted vortex of the river of time, in the eerie hollow of the Dementor's belly, these little people, who might be elves, began to twist into a tangled mess.
It transformed into a powerful force, rushing towards Lockhart.
Ding!
A crisp sound rang out.
The clicking and clattering of gears echoed rapidly in my ears.
Lockhart suddenly felt a daze, and his vision returned to the real world, where he was in a closed house facing a Dementor drifting in the distance.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Lockhart," Ms. Mary gestured to the time converter in her hand, "I had to bring you back; the river of time almost collapsed just now."
Lohat nodded, his brow furrowed as he pondered the scene he had just witnessed.
He had a vague feeling that he had grasped something that was extremely important to him!
(End of this chapter)