From Hogwarts to Strixhaven.

Chapter 463 March
Emerald green magic slowly rose along the withered branches, catching the attention of Jahira, who was praying below. As a druid, she had witnessed far too much darkness and shadow in this land, and when she suddenly perceived the power of nature, she always thought she was seeing things or hallucinating.

Everyone at the End of Light Inn had completed their final preparations, and the landing of Asmo, who had wings on his back, greatly boosted morale.

As for Isobel, who was hugging her...

Well, all I can say is that everyone chose not to see what happened next.

The soldiers were ready and waiting for Jahira, their commander, to give the order.

The senior harpist shifted his gaze from the withered tree beside the inn's bridge. The tree had been dead for some time, many branches cut down by harpists to be used as roadblocks. Even if there were some natural force at play, it couldn't possibly manifest itself there.

Jahira sheathed her twin swords and leaped into the fountain's pool. She wasn't much of a stunt speaker before embarking on an operation, as such tasks had always been left to others in her past adventures.

Now Jahira is a high-ranking harpist and the recognized commander of the End of Light Alliance. Whether she likes it or not, the task of boosting morale must be done by her.

Exhaling a breath of stale air, Jashira took one last look at the withered tree by the bridge, confirming that she was truly seeing things.

But as soon as she turned her head away, she found it difficult to turn it back.

A flower blooms in the wind, blossoming on a withered tree branch.

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

“I never thought it could actually work…” Halsin looked at everything in front of him in amazement.

As Ivy performed her magical ritual, the shadows of Rasven gradually faded, and the earth was revitalized.

The intertwined natural and shadow energies within Senier and Oliver also became two distinct parts.

The twisted plants that were everywhere on the ground stretched out their limbs, and the disgusting abscesses on their gray skin turned into brown scabs. The branches that swayed in the breeze even sprouted tiny green shoots.

The greenery of plants can only occupy a small part of the field of vision up close, but when viewed from a distance, it seems to converge into a river or a carpet.

The once starless and moonless sky has changed its appearance. Although dark clouds still shroud the area, everyone can see the edges of the clouds faintly shimmering with golden light.

There is no doubt that the blazing sun brings new hope.

“I thought you were just trying to comfort me…” The Archdruid almost cried, but when he saw the Shadow Scars slowly healing on Senir’s face, he smiled from the bottom of his heart. “Sha’er’s influence has rapidly diminished, and hope is being nurtured!”

“Mystra above… I thought I would never ask you that question again…” Gale clutched his head, completely bewildered by what had happened. “Guiding two completely opposing forces and making them coexist harmoniously… How did you do that, Ivy?”

“In Strehaven, the coexistence of opposing magical forces is not merely a philosophical concept, but a tangible reality.” Ivy paused her work, admiring her masterpiece with her companions. “Boiling frost and flowing flames combine to form swirling vortices, shadow and new green harmoniously nurture life, past and future intertwine to create a magnificent epic…”

It was merely guiding the shadows and natural forces of Resven; for Ivy, who used the Stryhaven incantation and led the deans to create a Death Flower Vortex, it was not a particularly difficult task.

Not to mention the two magical entities, the Nature Spirit and the Shadow Spirit, assisting from the side.

The statue of Katheric in the center of the town square of Resven, and the Shar Chamber below it, have been completely destroyed.

The ritual to break the Shadow Curse of the Sha'er followers was used as a new starting point to unleash magic. The magical power that swept across the entire Reisven swept through the area twice, effectively erasing the traces of the Twin Goddesses' battle in Reisven.

“It’s time.” Shadowheart lowered her eyes, looking at the hidden sanctuary filled with fragments of the Katheric statue. “We should set off.”

Witnessing Shar's defeat once again gave Shadowheart a vengeful thrill. However, she didn't reveal it. Although Shar's power had begun to leave the surface, Shadowheart knew very well that Shar was still watching her.

The faint phantom pain mark on the back of her hand is proof of that.

“Those must be our reinforcements!” Asdallen, standing on high ground, pointed to a series of lights crossing the bridge in the distance. “They’re carrying torches! Once the sun shines again, we won’t need any lighting equipment at all!”

"You!" A mournful, shrill voice rang out as a figure clad in the armor of a judge of the night stumbled across the cemetery beside the town square, pointing and gesturing at the adventurers from afar.

"Why! We—I—held our faith for so long, only to have you steal the Dark Lady's favor in the end!" The newcomer's armor was in poor condition, covered in numerous wounds, and the armor on one leg had been roughly torn off, with blood flowing freely.

Yingxin was speechless. Without a doubt, the Dark Judge in front of her was there for her.

“This is Shar’s revenge…” Yingxin took a half step back and stumbled on the gravel.

“Nothing is left!” The Night Judge advanced slowly, raising his scimitar and greatsword as he drew near. “You gained her love, and then so easily discarded it! I despise you! I scorn you! I condemn you! I curse you! You had a chance to speak—now prepare to die!”

Because they started shouting from a great distance, the adventurers had already realized what was happening.

Leading the way was Karak, wielding an axe. She had previously offered to lend her hand to Shadowheart, and she believed the latter wouldn't mind holding a giant axe in those hands. It was just a pity that Karak's axe couldn't drink the blood of a living Night Judge.

Suddenly, a large, jet-black cat darted out from the corner and pounced on the wounded Night Judge from behind, knocking him to the ground. Its two barbed tentacles lashed out, pricking the Night Judge and causing him to scream incessantly.

The scream of pain lasted only a short while before it began to subside. The black cat's four sharp fangs had pierced the artery from the back of the neck, and with one swift movement, the last Dark Judge in the Iron Hand Temple was completely killed.

"Nisha? How did you get up here?" Halsin asked curiously. He had thought that he would see Nisha again in the Underdark, since the Temple of Iron Hands was connected to the Underdark and could even see the adamantite furnace above from the gap.

The large, dark blue cat did not raise its head until it confirmed with its paws that the Night Judge was completely dead, before responding to Halsin's question in a low, guttural voice.

Ivy took the opportunity to cast an animal conversation on himself, as he was also curious about what the Displacement Beasts had done after the adventurers entered the Fallen Shadow Realm.

“I’m hungry. But the only food available in the temple, besides demons, is rats. I hate that blood-armored demon! I don’t want to be seduced again!”

"One mouse isn't enough to fill my stomach, so I followed them hoping to find their nest, but instead I discovered they had turned into an even bigger mouse." The big cat purred, clearly quite pleased with its hunting skills.

“I followed it all the way through the temple and ambushed it several times before finally killing it here! This is my prey, Druid! If you want it, trade something!” Displacement beasts can distinguish between male and female, but Nisha insisted on calling the Night Judge “it,” seemingly still thinking the prey at her feet was a rat.

"How about I peel off his shell for you?" the wicked thought said, gesturing wildly as she tried to make a deal with the Displacement Beast. She had already figured out that the weapon in the Dark Judge's hand was a magical item.

It seems the communication check for evil thoughts has passed. The Displaced Beast licked its paws and moved off the corpse of the Night Judge.

As the evil spirits gleefully began to plunder the corpses, a flame from hell exploded around the adventurers.

A disliked fellow emerged from inside—Raphael.

“Look, look!” Raphael continued reciting a line from a script, “This poor little fellow is lying on the ground, covered in blood, completely innocent.”

Raphael looked at Asdalon, the mockery and smugness on his face completely gone: "I remember I asked you to kill the Blood Armor Demon, not to interfere with his contract with me. Little vampire."

"Ha!" Asdallen leaped down from the height, fully displaying his expressive features, and made an innocent yet smug expression. "It seems that even a great devil like you is not omniscient. I thought I would earn your praise for the way I completed the task."

"You did something unnecessary..." Raphael's anger vanished halfway through his sentence, for he saw the glass ball held between Asderon's fingers, and the Blood Armor Demon sealed inside.

“You cunning little darling! You’ve certainly surprised me!” Raphael’s expression shifted, as if he had never been angry before. “It seems you’ve mastered some methods of dealing with demons, haven’t you?” He walked around to Asderon and extended his brownish-red palm. “Now, hand him over to me! And I will complete our deal!”

“No,” Asdalon chuckled defiantly, clutching the crystal ball that sealed the Blood Armor Demon back into his hand, “I demand payment in advance, and no more nonsense!”

"Hahaha!" Raphael laughed loudly, pointing his finger at Asdalon, trying his best to play the role of a generous gambler who had lost the bet, but in reality, he was the dealer, and a dealer who hadn't even sat at the table.

“A blasphemous ascension ritual!” Raphael said solemnly. “Unusual, extremely complex, incredibly ancient, and utterly evil—so evil that even I, a great devil, feel it should never be performed…”

“But this hellish pact between the Demon Lord Mephisto and Kazador Zar is not without its flaws!” Raphael spread his arms to enhance his persuasiveness. “Seven thousand vampire offspring, seven thousand pitiful souls, seven thousand pieces of the puzzle are indispensable! But is it really only vampire lord Kazador who can benefit from it? I don’t think so.”

“What if!” Raphael held up a finger. “I mean, what if! If Kazador were also made part of the contract, and the person standing in the position of the ritual officiant were another vampire incarnation… could this destiny of certain sacrifice be reversed?”

"You mean—to carve the mark on my back onto Qazador?" Asderon pondered. "Would that work? I don't know any magic... Can simply leaving some scars on Qazador really reverse our fate?"

“I believe this is a method that will work, but I don’t recommend you do it. I cannot bear to see so many souls wasted.” Raphael extended his hand to Asderon again. “Alright, my tragic and beautiful friend, I have said all I have to say. Now, it is time for you to fulfill your promise.”

Asdalon remained lost in thought, casually tossing the glass ball containing the Blood Armor Demon to Raphael.

The latter took the document, examined it closely, and smiled with satisfaction: "Please forgive me! A devil like me always has other business to attend to."

The hellfire exploded once more, and Cambion vanished from his spot, returning the space to the adventurers.

“I noticed your flattery of him, Asdalon,” Ivy interrupted the vampire's thoughts. “It seems you’ve already figured out some ways to deal with that Campion?”

“Ah, he certainly likes being called ‘the Great Devil’…” Asdallen sighed. “Raphael wasn’t telling the truth, at least not all of it. He didn’t even tell me that the vampire ascension ritual was a variant of the Black Mass! He wanted me to think I had won, and then lure me into another trap. Tell me, Ivy, is Raphael’s simple method even feasible?”

“If his method really works, it means that the Hell Pact between Kazador and Mephisto doesn’t actually have a clearly defined beneficiary. It might not even have been specifically agreed upon by Kazador and Mephisto.” Ivy concluded after only a moment’s thought. “Without the complete text of the contract, I can’t draw an accurate conclusion. However, I don’t believe the Demon Grand Guild has reached a fair deal. Think about the contract between Raphael and Yogg, and the Night Judge who was torn into a pile of rats. It would have been absolutely impossible without Raphael’s interference.”

"Replacing Kazador won't set you free, Asderon." Minsara observed coldly. "If you're looking for a new collar, I can reserve a clownish position for you in my future court. The reward is fresh blood and comfortable cushions. You might want to consider it."

“Oh! My dear, you’re so generous.” Asdalon’s affected smile returned. “Wait a minute, is this what drow elves call concern? How awkward, Minsara.”

“Hmph.” Minsara snorted coldly, changing the subject. “I saw your golem, DOOM. Now I just hope Katheric doesn’t cower in fear.”

(End of this chapter)