Hogwarts Raven

Chapter 429, Section 428: Ian's Choice
The runes on the gate lit up briefly.

Ian's eyes narrowed, temporarily suppressing his pity and curiosity. The immediate priority was to find Newt and uncover the truth. He took a deep breath, raised his wand again, and prepared to cast a large, non-lethal binding spell to temporarily subdue the three ancient spirits driven to madness and agony, before considering further action.

However, just as his magic began to gather—

"Boom..."

A deep, muffled tremor, seemingly from the depths of the earth, carrying endless antiquity and majesty, suddenly came from beneath our feet and instantly spread throughout the entire deep prison!
Whether it was the sandstorm spirits and swamp worms that were attacking furiously, or the black sludge that was constantly creating illusions, they all froze at this moment, their attacks coming to an abrupt halt. Their chaotic and violent aura was as if it had been suppressed by an invisible giant hand, instantly subsiding, and their massive bodies even began to tremble slightly. In that trembling was a fear far greater than when they faced Ian!
Even Ian felt his heart skip a beat at the sudden tremor, and an indescribable heavy pressure appeared out of nowhere, enveloping the surroundings.

He suddenly turned his head, his gaze sharp as a knife, staring intently at the massive door.

The vibration... seemed to be coming from behind the door.

Could it be that the "big shot" the blind man mentioned... has woken up?
The deep, resonant tremor, originating from the earth's core, was like the sounding of an ancient war drum. It not only instantly froze the three ancient spirits, causing them to tremble in fear, but also chilled Ian to the bone. The being behind the door, with only a hint of awakening, possessed such power that Ian could sense it!

"what's the situation?"

However, this sudden turn of events did not interrupt Ian's inquisitive mind; on the contrary, it made him even more certain that the distorted state of these ancient spirits was inextricably linked to the unknown "big shot" behind the door.

After the tremor, the three ancient spirits seemed to have their last remaining ferocity unleashed, or rather, it was the deep-seated fear that forced them to react more violently—they no longer fought individually, but as if controlled by invisible threads, they began to launch a frenzied attack on Ian in a twisted yet coordinated manner!

The Sandstorm Spirit no longer merely whipped up sand blades; at its core, the crimson eye of the storm suddenly lit up, and countless grains of sand and withered bones began to rotate and combine in some mysterious trajectory, vaguely forming a huge, ferocious phantom skull, opening its empty maw and emitting a silent roar of the soul.

A suction force targeting the very essence of life suddenly descended.

Ian could sense it very clearly; even as a legendary wizard, he was affected by this power to some extent.

“A variant of Avada Kedavra? No, it’s more like… a primal curse that drains life!” Ian’s eyes narrowed, and he dared not be careless.

He swung his wand rapidly, drawing complex trajectories in the air.

"Armor Protection - Anti-Curse Enhancement!"

A thicker, more powerful light shield, shimmering with ancient defensive runes, instantly formed, not only blocking the physical impact but also significantly weakening the invisible life force it was drawing power from.

However, the light shield also fluctuated violently under the impact of the skeleton phantom, emitting a hum that could not bear the strain.

At the same time, the swamp worm's enormous body arched up suddenly, then sprang out like a spring. Its mouthparts, covered with suckers resembling painful human faces, expanded to their limit, no longer simply sucking, but spewing out a viscous, foul-smelling, dark breath containing strong corrosive and soul-binding power!

Wherever this breath passed, even the air was polluted, making a "hissing" sound, and the space seemed to become viscous.

"Clear water like a spring—the wall of gushing springs!"

"Rapid Freeze - Extreme Cold Domain!!"

Ian pointed his wand at the ground, and a huge wall of water shot into the sky like a fountain, blocking the dark breath. In an instant, it was transformed by the ultimate freezing spell into an incomparably thick ice crystal barrier that exuded a chilling aura!
The dark breath struck the ice wall, the corrosive power clashing fiercely with the extreme cold magic. The ice wall rapidly melted, but new streams of water continuously replenished it, creating a deafening roar and a large amount of foul-smelling icy mist. But the most dangerous thing remained the ancient spirit in the pool of black sludge.

It seemed to become even more "excited" by the awakening of the being behind the door. No longer content with creating illusions, the boiling sludge itself began to expand violently, spreading outwards like a black tide, trying to swallow Ian along with the entire passage! Within the sludge, the distorted illusions became even more real.

More impactful, even beginning to interfere with reality—the ground beneath Ian's feet sometimes becomes as soft as quicksand, and at other times, thorny vines sprout out of thin air and entwine around him.

At times, the surrounding walls seemed to come alive, stretching out giant stone hands to grab him!
"All curses end!"

Ian moved like a precise magical machine, his wand dancing in afterimages. He continuously used Stop and Restore Charms to counteract the Sludge Belcher's distortion of reality, and used Shatter Charms to shatter the grasping stone hands and entwining vines. At the same time, he pushed Occlumency to its limit, his mental barrier as solid as a rock, firmly keeping out all mental pollution and illusions that tried to invade his consciousness.

To be fair, dealing with three completely different types of attacks, all of which are extremely powerful, is by no means easy for him, but it is not particularly difficult either.

But it was precisely in this intense battle that Ian's senses were pushed to their limits.

His mental power was like the most sophisticated radar, penetrating the ancient spirits' violent energy cloak and delving into the core essence of their power.

He "saw" it more clearly now!

At the core of that ancient sandstorm spirit, within the skeletal phantom formed from resentment and curses, he sensed an extremely faint aura, like the tenacious greenery in the desert.

That was the rhythm that the "Spirit of Sand" should possess—a rhythm that belonged to the vast desert itself, carrying both heat and desolation, yet containing the miracle of life! But now, this rhythm has been completely polluted and covered up by endless thirst, the resentment of bones buried under the yellow sand, and a kind of forcibly imposed will of "plunder"!
In the depths of the swamp worm spirit's dark breath, filled with corrosiveness and pain, Ian detected a nearly extinguished pulse of the "swamp spirit," unique to the muddy swamp, a spirit that harbors hidden life and endless cycles! This guardian, which should have been the source of nourishment, decomposition, and rebirth, had now become a twisted monster that only knew how to devour, imprison, and spread pain!

Its suffering stems not only from the souls it devours, but also from the tragedy of its own essence being forcibly distorted and reduced to a tool of consumption! The black sludge spirit, however, is the most complex. Deep within its boiling, spiritually polluted sludge, Ian vaguely touched a fragmented core piece representing the realms of "dreams" and "subconscious"! It should have been a natural spirit connecting the dreams of living beings, reflecting their inner truths, imbued with a hazy and mysterious aura; now, it has become a source of pollution, wantonly weaving nightmares, distorting reality, and spreading madness!
Its madness stems from the tearing apart of its own dream essence and the forced infusion of countless fragments of negative emotions and fears!
"As expected... as expected!" Ian was shocked; his previous guesses had been completely confirmed. These three powerful ancient spirits were actually the natural spirits of this African continent, representing the sand sea, swamps, and dreams! They were part of the world's rules, symbols of balance and harmony!

It was some powerful, malicious external force that forcibly polluted, distorted, and enslaved them! It stripped them of their peaceful nature and forcibly merged their core power with the negative energy accumulated on this land, creating these twisted beings filled with pain and resentment, who only know how to carry out the commands of "guarding" and "devouring"!

The "big shot" behind that door is very likely the culprit behind this distortion, or the key to maintaining this distorted state! Thinking this, Ian looked at the three frenzied, attacking ancient spirits, his fighting spirit gradually replaced by a complex emotion. They were terrifying enemies, but even more so, they were pitiful victims. Fighting them was like fighting three tainted and tormented souls of the earth.

"This is truly a miracle of life."

Ian's breathing maintained a strange rhythm even amidst the fierce exchange of blows, sweat soaking his temples, but his deep eyes shone even brighter, like the sharpest stars in the night sky. The siege of the three ancient spirits did not deter him; instead, it became the best catalyst for him to delve deeper into their essence. Every block, every dodge, every counterattack was not merely a clash of magic, but also the ultimate extension and perception of his spiritual power.

The skeletal phantom formed by the ancient sandstorm spirit roared in once more. This time, it did more than just absorb life force; two dark red beams of light were projected from its empty eye sockets, containing the power of decay and corruption. Wherever it passed, even Ian's enhanced armor and enchanted shield began to lose their luster rapidly, as if they had undergone thousands of years of weathering and erosion.

"Erosion at the level of rules?!" Ian was slightly startled; this was an effect that ordinary black magic could not achieve. He dared not use the armor charm to resist it anymore, and his figure retreated rapidly like a ghost. At the same time, his wand drew a silver rune full of mysterious energy in front of him—"The power of time slowing down is emerging."

This wasn't an offensive spell, but rather Ian's rudimentary application of the rules of time, stemming from his initial understanding of Musa's Notes. The instant the silver rune made contact with the dark red beam, the beam's speed visibly slowed down slightly. While it couldn't completely stop it, it bought Ian a precious moment.

In that instant of slowing down, Ian's mental energy, like the finest probe, followed the energy trajectory of the dark red beam, flowing upstream and forcefully piercing into the core of the Sandstorm Ancient Spirit!
"boom--!"

Ian's consciousness seemed to have stumbled into an endless desert. It was no longer the swirling sand and withered bones that he saw from the outside, but a deeper "image." He "saw" the vast golden sea of ​​sand being scorched by the sun, and felt the desolation that encompassed all things yet was cold and ruthless.

Ian "heard" the ancient and desolate song of nature sung by the sand grains in the wind; he even "touched" the faint life pulse of those plants that tenaciously survived with very little water deep in the sea of ​​sand... This is the true form that the spirit of this sea of ​​sand should possess—majestic, desolate, yet containing the tenacity and miracle of life!

However, this peaceful scene was instantly shattered! Countless twisted fragments of souls, filled with pain and resentment, surged from the depths of the desert like black pus. They were the abandoned souls of the desert, the curses of the tribes whose homes and lives had been plundered! At the same time, an even more powerful and tyrannical will, like a red-hot branding iron, fiercely imprinted itself on the core of this spirit of the desert.

That will was filled with commands to "devour," "plunder," and "defend."

It forcibly distorted its natural rhythm, turning that desolation into deathly silence, that resilience into cruelty, and the pulse of life into a curse that plunders life!

"Uh..." Ian groaned, his mental energy rebounding from the intense pollution and distorted will, a sharp pain shooting through his mind. But a look of understanding appeared on his face.

He understood. This ancient sandstorm spirit, at its core, was indeed the natural spirit of the sand sea, but it had been corrupted by two forces: one was the negative energy accumulated on this land and related to the sand sea, and the other was an external, powerful, and malicious will that forcibly enslaved and distorted it!

Realize this.

When the skeletal phantom of the Sandstorm Ancient roared and charged again, Ian did not choose to confront it head-on, but instead drew a vibrant green halo with his wand.

He was no longer content with merely defending and probing.

"All things revive! A celebration of life!"

He channeled a sliver of creative power within his own magic, stemming from his understanding of the essence of life, mixing it with transformation and blessing magic, attempting to guide the deathly, predatory sandstorm towards a direction where tiny glimmers of life could be nurtured. A green halo merged with the sandstorm, and the grotesque skeletal phantom suddenly paused, a few struggling, sprout-like green lines briefly appearing on its surface. Though instantly submerged again by the deathly sand, that fleeting anomaly caused the sandstorm spirit to emit an even more frenzied, yet seemingly bewildered, howl.

"Discard the filth!"

Faced with the dark breath of the swamp worm, Ian maintained the ice wall while pointing his wand at the source of the breath, attempting to cast a variation of an extremely obscure purification spell originating from ancient druidic tradition.

A soft yet resolute beam of milky-white light shot towards the core of the worm's spit, attempting to neutralize the corrosive and imprisoning forces within, and awaken the buried, swamp-like instincts of "purification" and "nourishment" deep within it. The worm's body writhed violently in the white light, and amidst the agonizing cries of those pained faces, there seemed to be a faint, almost imperceptible, throbbing pain, like a drowning person grasping at a piece of driftwood.

"It seems there's still a chance to save it." As for the spreading black sludge, Ian no longer simply used the Stop Charm and the Shatter Charm to combat its reality distortion. Instead, he condensed his powerful mental energy into a pure, stable, and stabilizing wave of thought, like a pillar of strength, and pierced directly into its core.

He was trying to calm them down.

Try to use your own stable mental strength to calm the frenzied boiling of the shattered "dream spirit" and guide it into a temporary slumber, rather than continuing to endlessly weave nightmares.

The spread of the silt slowed down noticeably, and the terrifying illusions that were changing on the surface momentarily froze and blurred, as if a mad painter had suddenly had his train of thought interrupted.

Ian's attempts were not aimed at directly defeating or destroying the Ancients, but rather, like a skilled doctor, he tried to find the lesion in the midst of a fierce confrontation and apply targeted "treatment".

Although the effect was brief and weak, it was like a few drops of cold water thrown into a boiling oil pan, triggering an even more violent reaction—not a stronger attack, but a faint struggle from the very depths of the ancient spirits' distorted nature, originating from the source of the "spirit of nature," a fact that Ian perceived with perfect clarity.

he knows.

What do I need to do?

(End of this chapter)