Harry doesn't want to be a wizard, he wants to be a superhero

Upon hearing this, Death's crimson eyes gleamed with mockery. His deep voice, like the tolling of an ancient bell chilled to the bone, carried the unique oppressive aura of a dimensional demon, as he casually swept his gaze over Harry:
"cost?"

He deliberately dragged out his words, the end of his sentence filled with undisguised sneer:
"You insignificant being, how dare you ask me for a price? So what if you stole the Deathly Hallows?"

Death took a step forward, his invisible aura instantly distorting the surrounding space, his arrogance almost overflowing:
"In this world, life and death are in my control. These three sacred artifacts are nothing more than playthings that I can take at will."

Besides, that power was obtained from me by the three brothers through deception. I just want to take back my power now!
"But you, daring to set your sights on me, are the one who should be considering the consequences!"

Faced with Death's arrogance, Harry wasn't angry. Instead, he sneered and retorted:
"Dimensional Demon God? You probably haven't seen any other Dimensional Demon Gods, have you?"

Do you believe you are the only special being? Do you believe that dimensional demons are absolutely invincible?

The chill emanating from Death suddenly froze, his scarlet pupils contracted sharply, and his previous nonchalant demeanor vanished instantly.

His suspended figure sank slightly, and two clusters of ghostly blue flames shot up from his eye sockets, concealing a hidden rage.

"You dare question this god?"

His voice was no longer a slow, mocking tone, but had gained a sharp, cold edge, and an invisible aura suddenly expanded outwards, causing the pebbles on the ground to rustle.
"Demons from other dimensions? They're nothing but defective products trapped in low-dimensional cages!"

"This deity can traverse the dimensions of life and death, and control the cycle of souls; how could any mere cat or dog compare?"

He suddenly teleported in front of Harry, his bony hand almost touching Harry's nose, his tone full of arrogant disdain:

"You think you can sway me with a few blustering words? Let me tell you, in my eyes, you and the other demons you speak of are nothing but souls waiting to be harvested."

"You dare mention them? Are you trying to make those good-for-nothings taste the bitterness of being utterly destroyed?"

With that, His Death Scythe slammed heavily onto the ground, causing the ground to crack open with spiderweb-like black lines, within which countless tiny fragments of souls struggled.

But their eyes were fixed on Harry, as if they would rush out and tear him to pieces the moment Death gave the order.

Harry ignored Death's provocation, having gleaned a great deal of useful information from Death's words.

That is, in the eyes of Death, there is no other world.

Even in the Wizarding World, it seems that there is only one true dimension: the dimension of the dead. Of course, there are some other smaller dimensions, but those dimensions are not true dimensions and do not have the soil to nurture dimensional demons.

While Harry was deep in thought, Death, seeing that Harry did not answer for a moment, assumed that he was frightened by himself.

A glint of triumph flashed in Death's crimson eyes, and his distorted aura intensified. The dark scythe twirled in his palm as he looked down with mocking disdain.
"What? You've finally figured it out? You realize that going against this god is nothing but courting death?"

He took two steps closer, his shadow completely enveloping Harry, the contempt in his voice almost tangible:

"You dared to question my control just now, why are you silent now?"

Stop clinging to that broken piece of wood. Even if you can use it to cast spells, it won't change the fact that you're just a lamb to the slaughter.

Even though the three brothers stole the sacred artifact back then, they still couldn't escape the pursuit of this god.

You're just a brat who doesn't even have a complete holy artifact, so what makes you think you can be an exception? Kneel down and beg me now, and maybe I can let you die a little more easily.

After all, it's rare to see a brat like you who dares to talk back to this god.

Harry's expression turned strange as he watched Death's arrogant demeanor.

Because he had already discovered that the Grim Reaper before him was indeed a dimensional demon god, and that he had many similarities with the dimensional demon gods of the multiverse.

Although his power is relatively unique compared to most dimensional demons in the multiverse because the nature of the wizarding world is chaotic magic.

However, his power could not penetrate the wizarding world much, and the power he did penetrate the wizarding world was no match for Harry's.

Having realized the true nature of the dimensional demon before him, Harry no longer hesitated and decisively took action.

Crimson magic gathered around him, like an outer garment, covering his entire body.

Harry said with a nonchalant sneer, "Death, do you know why I dare to mock you?"

Death looked at Harry with great interest, paying particular attention to the magic on Harry's body, a magic that even He had to treat with caution.

He knew the wizard before him possessed strength far exceeding his expectations, forcing even him to proceed with caution. However, as the sole dimensional demon god, he maintained a facade of composure, coldly mocking:
"Isn't it because you're so ignorant?"

Harry scoffed and gave the answer: "That's because you're too weak!"

As soon as he finished speaking, the emerald green beam of disintegration collided with Death.

Seeing this, Death roared angrily, "Damn you, gods are not people like you can slander!"

He swung his scythe, unleashing a decaying slash powerful enough to sever the soul of any living being, which flew toward Harry.

The decaying slash, carrying a gray-black aura of death, drew a twisted arc in the air.

Wherever he passed, the air seemed to be drained of its life force, and even the floating dust instantly turned into powder, rushing straight to Harry's face.

Harry stomped his feet hard on the ground, and a burst of crimson magic exploded from the soles of his shoes. He shot off to the side and back like an arrow, barely dodging the slash. At the same time, three spinning crimson magic bullets condensed at his fingertips, which he threw back at Death.

The magic bullet collided with the aftershock of the decaying slash, producing a piercing explosion. As the gray-black and scarlet energies clashed, three deep trenches were torn open in the ground.

Death tightened his grip on the scythe, his crimson eyes filled with disbelief and rage:

"A mere wizard, yet he managed to block my deadly strike?"

With a stomp of his foot, a thick black mist surged around him. Countless tiny phantom souls within the mist screamed and swirled, instantly coalescing into a dozen long, thin chains of death that coiled around Harry from different directions.

Harry's crimson magic suddenly lit up, shimmering like a flowing suit of armor.

He raised his hand and grasped the first chain that flew towards him. His palm erupted with magical power, instantly incinerating the chain, which was formed from a soul, into wisps of smoke. Simultaneously, he raised his wand with his other hand, the tip of which shimmered with a vibrant green light.
"Disarm you!" (End of Chapter)