allendalepharm Chapter 134 Guys, hurry up!
Chapter 134 Guys, hurry up!
Chapter 134 Guys, hurry up!
The Aurors' battle was very difficult.
As the most powerful military force in the British wizarding society besides the magic masters, and especially with their specialized combat skills and skillful teamwork, they still couldn't handle the attacking dark wizards.
the reason is simple.
—The enemy numbered over a hundred!
Not everyone here is a powerful dark wizard; a large portion of them are simply skilled at using various flying devices, including but not limited to magical flying carpets that are forbidden by magic, old-fashioned flying brooms, a huge book with its pages flapping, and various flying magical creatures.
These wizards, piloting a jumbled mess of flying machines, seemed to have little offensive capability; they simply focused on controlling the flight direction, while the attacks were carried out by the dark wizards they were carrying.
Even the dark wizards are not all capable of fighting against Aurors. They can only cast spells that interfere with vision and affect the operation of flying brooms. However, when they work together, they still cause great trouble for the Aurors.
bang~
An Auror was struck by a strange black liquid. The force of the impact nearly knocked him off his flying broom. Before he could regain his footing, he felt the sticky black liquid on his body, which was so slippery that he couldn't grip the broom. In the end, he fell to the ground in a panic.
Fortunately, Kingsley cast a dispelling spell to remove the magical effects from him and used a summoning spell to control the flying broom to go to its master, thus averting disaster.
"Who are you?!"
The Auror leader, Scrimgeour, roared in anger, no longer willing to adhere to the Auror's code of conduct, and unleashed his most vicious attack magic at the dark wizard not far away.
He was absolutely certain that he couldn't possibly not recognize such a large organization as the black wizards who had appeared out of nowhere and the 'pilots' using all sorts of flying vehicles.
Yes, dark wizards may seek refuge with ancient pure-blood families, but the fighting methods and organization of this wizarding army could never have been trained under the Ministry of Magic's nose.
He was clearly right. The influence of the Twenty-Eight Holy Pureblood Families often extends throughout Europe and even Africa. Coban Yaxley used his family's power to cultivate this force in another corner of the world where oversight was lacking, and this time he had deployed them all to Britain.
The Ministry of Magic of various countries foolishly used the social divisions of Muggle countries to define their spheres of influence, which easily rendered the Ministry of Magic of some small, sparsely populated countries virtually useless. Some small countries even had only one or two Aurors in their Ministry of Magic, making it the perfect place to train an army.
If the investigation were to proceed, Scrimgeour would discover that the dark wizards who attacked him were actually receiving stipends from the Ministry of Magic of some country, making them unofficial staff members who could barely be considered his colleagues.
A team of colleagues who are extremely familiar with how Aurors fight, have various contingency plans, and are specially trained to target the Auror organization.
They were all too familiar with the Aurors, and the Aurors were even quite unfamiliar with some of the magic they used.
"Boss, something's wrong. They seem to be planning to stall us!"
Kingsley keenly sensed the problem with the opponent's tactics. His expression changed, and he shouted to Scrimgeour, who was flying not far away, "They might be heading to deal with Professor Lockhart!"
Scrimgeour's expression changed. He deflected an incoming spell, quickly stopped his flying broom, and looked rapidly into the sky, where he could no longer discern directions, hoping to spot the Ministry of Magic's escort wagon.
Amidst beams of magical light and a sky thick with dark clouds, his gaze was so sharp that he quickly located the carriage.
And the man standing against the wind on the carriage.
How could Lockhart, that fraudster, have the ability to break free from the prisoner's carriage?
What is he doing, casting a spell?
Just then, a series of booming sounds suddenly came from the sky. Before he could react, powerful bolts of lightning tore through the air and spread rapidly through the crowd.
A thunderclap suddenly sounded.
Countless bolts of lightning fell like divine punishment, completely transforming everything in sight into a sea of thunder.
"Armor for protection!"
Scrimgeour quickly cast the Ironclad Charm on himself and his colleagues around him to protect themselves from the terrible electric shocks, and the other Aurors also quickly and skillfully cast the spell.
This immediately distinguished them from the dark wizards. Few of the dark wizards could successfully cast the Ironclad Spell, while these dark wizards, who relied solely on the extremely dangerous and damaging power of dark magic, were not as adept at mastering this kind of normal magic.
Several dark wizards were struck by lightning in an instant, their bodies trembling as they plummeted to the ground like dumplings being dropped into a pot.
However, the magical attack did not end there. They couldn't fall down at all. A powerful gust of wind blew them up again. They struggled frantically in the wind and were struck by lightning again, completely disintegrating their fighting ability.
But that seems to be all there is to it.
The reason why weather spells are not widely used in combat is the result of generations of wizards' practice—this magic is extremely difficult to control.
It fails to distinguish between friend and foe, consumes a great deal of resources, and is extremely inefficient because it cannot guide attacks on the actual enemy. It is a large-scale, luck-based attack method.
Scrimgeour cursed under his breath, clearly realizing that Lockhart might actually be a magic master, since casting such a massive spell was not something an ordinary wizard could do.
But only there.
Lockhart's expenditure of so much energy and effort on casting such an uncontrollable weather spell is undoubtedly foolish in the current circumstances.
Sure enough, that's just how he is. All he wants to do is put on a show. His magic is just like his personality—he spends all his time doing fancy, flashy but impractical things.
Scrimgeour quickly realized his mistake.
This is not a weather spell at all!
He stared in disbelief at the changes unfolding before him. Countless bolts of lightning tore through the sky, a strange, foul odor filled the air, and then giant pythons formed from converging flames emerged, charging madly at the black wizards.
Well, he thought it was a giant python, but it was actually the image of a basilisk.
After all, Lockhart was very familiar with the Basilisk.
"Fiercefire Curse!" He and Kingsley exclaimed simultaneously, quickly gathering all their Auror colleagues to prepare for a joint defense against this terrifying magical attack.
At least he couldn't be sure yet that Lockhart's spellcasting wasn't actually intended to deal with them, the Aurors.
Amidst the sea of thunder and lightning, fiery serpents surged.
The power of this dark magic, and the cruelty of the wizard who cast it, were so clearly displayed before all the Aurors.
All the Aurors would probably never forget this scene for the rest of their lives—those dark wizards who had just been fighting them were powerless to resist. They were devoured by the fiery monsters and burned to ashes amidst screams of agony, eventually turning into dust and drifting away with the wind.
Death, such a massive death, was clearly presented before them.
Even knowing that the other party is an enemy, one cannot help but feel a pang of pity for the loss of life, as well as a sense of dread of the death of a fellow human.
"Enough, enough..." Kingsley's dark face turned pale as he looked at the figure high in the sky wildly waving a wand and casting spells, and murmured weakly, "Enough, stop killing..."
These dark wizards had no way to escape; terrifying lightning kept tearing the sky apart. They had no choice but to passively deal with these fiery monsters.
The youngest face in the Auror team, Nymphadora Tonks, was so frightened that her cool purple hair turned back to its original black, and her pupils widened in shock. She finally had a clear understanding of the 'Dark Wizard'.
Well, this junior student clearly misunderstands Lockhart.
Lockhart is a good person.
The bad guy is Coban Yaxley.
A true dark wizard wouldn't waste time on all that fancy stuff; wouldn't a killing curse be better?
"Avada Kedavra!"
Just then, a powerful, chilling green light pierced through the corner, tearing through the clouds and heading straight for Lockhart.
Killing Curse!
One of the three unforgivable curses!
Look, this is the standard equipment for a dark wizard!
"Watch out!" Kingsley cried out.
But then a large mirror with many strange eyes appeared, acting like a shield to block the killing curse. It was blasted apart by the power of the curse into a cloud of black smoke, and then instantly reformed into a large mirror.
"Corban!" Scrimgeour's expression hardened as he looked sharply at the blurry figure in the clouds. The figure had clearly used some kind of magic to disguise itself, but he recognized Corban's voice.
This was thanks to Professor Lockhart's reminder in the transport carriage, which made him subconsciously judge the voice chanting the Killing Curse. He was an old colleague of many years, and he could not possibly have misheard it!
Corban should be at the Ministry of Magic submitting the injury assessment report on Vincent Crabbe to the Wizengamor Inquisition, but instead he's here, disguised, which makes Corban wonder if Kingsley's analysis might be correct.
Even these dark wizards attacking the Aurors right now were brought in by the Coppé!
"Aha~~"
The Thestrals pulled the carriage swiftly towards the direction from which the Killing Curse had been fired. On the carriage roof, Lockhart waved his wand and laughed maniacally, "I've got you!"
Countless fiery serpent monsters pounced on Koban.
Even faster than the Fiery Serpent was the Winged Demon, which had been hiding in the clouds all along.
As Coban cast the Killing Curse on Lockhart, it suddenly flew out of the clouds and charged toward the guy who dared to harm his master.
It desperately wanted to bite off the head of the professional as revenge.
But no, its master gave it an even more important task—to use its ability to sense the existence of memories to find Vincent Crabbe's soul!
It sensed it!
It's in a dark magic mark on this guy's arm!
So it instantly changed direction, sneakily pounced from behind, and instantly bit off the other's arm.
It can bite through even the scales of a dragon's hide, so even a human body, or a wizard with the Iron Armor Charm, cannot withstand its bite.
"Ah..." Ke Ban let out a piercing cry of pain, and suddenly his figure spun and collapsed, disappearing without a trace in an instant.
"!!!" The curled-winged demon, holding the arm in its mouth, was stunned. It was planning to launch a series of attacks, but the person had disappeared.
Just then, the Thestrals charged in. Lockhart squinted at the spot where Cobb had disappeared, his brow furrowed. "Not Apparition?"
Scrimgeour led the Aurors in a swift encirclement. He waved his wand, sensing his surroundings, and finally let out a deep breath, his expression grave. "Port Key!"
There is no magic in the world that can more reliably traverse long distances. If Apparition could be used to cast a disruption spell, the Portkey simply has no effective remedy.
"Then there's nothing we can do." Lockhart took the arm from the Winged Demon, pressed his wand against it for a moment to sense it, and nodded. "Vincent Crabbe's soul is imprisoned inside. You'll have to figure out how to deal with it."
As he spoke, he drew some blood, stored it in a glass bottle, and tossed the arm to Scrimgeour. "You Aurors should have a way of identifying someone through an arm, right?"
Scrimgeour stared grimly at the Dark Mark on his arm, the mark that identified him as a Death Eater under Voldemort. Before he could say anything, Lockhart said, "I have to remind you, Cobbane is a werewolf, which means there's highly contagious wolfsbane in this arm."
"!!!"
Scrimgeour's expression changed instantly. He lost all interest in the Dark Lord and frantically began casting protective spells on the arm.
"We need to get to the Ministry of Magic quickly and find out what's going on. My poor student Crabbe is waiting for your help, so I have to keep an eye on him."
Lockhart flipped back into the carriage and poked his head out again.
"Let's go, guys, hurry up!"
"!!!"
(End of this chapter)