Hermione, let's start a revolution from Hogwarts!

"Is this your plan?" Lestrange got up from the ground, giggling as she leaned toward Nietzsche, and whispered, "We are wizards, you see... Muggles really can't be trusted."

"Is this Moriarty's idea, or the Prime Minister's?" Nietzsche asked, sounding unwilling.

“No difference.” Moran waved his wand, pointing at them, and said, “Avada Kedavra!”

Nietzsche reacted quickly, shouting, "Clothes, fly!"

A bewildered Antonin Dolokhov flew at incredible speed to Nietzsche, who grabbed him by the collar and used him as a human shield to block Moran's killing curse. He was arguably the Death Eater who died most meaningfully.

But Dobby's attack followed immediately, and he was sent flying with just a snap of his fingers.

Although the armor blocked the magical effects, the kinetic energy still caused Nietzsche to smash open the wooden door behind him. He pretended to be greatly shocked and led Moran into the Time Hall.

Chapter 338 Three-Way Battle

Moran, gun in his left hand and wand in his right, moved among the shelves of the Department of Mysteries, his eyes warily fixed on the shadows that kept flashing by.

“I have a suggestion—how about we kill him for now?” Lestrange ran barefoot through the rubble and shards of glass as if she felt no pain. “Our target isn’t the Ministry of Magic.”

"Why should I?" Moran retorted.

“Hahaha... You’ve teamed up with house-elves, why can’t you team up with us?” Her words were full of contempt for Dobby. “We all want to kill him, um... that little mudblood.”

As he spoke, Lestrange stuck out his tongue and licked the corner of his cracked mouth.

“No problem, as long as you kill him, I can spare your lives…” Moran agreed without consulting anyone.

“Sir!” Dobby exclaimed.

"As long as the result achieves the goal, that's fine, Dobby. That's how we operate." Moran squinted and said slowly, "It's normal for a few cowardly Death Eaters to escape occasionally."

He could tell that the magic that had just knocked Nizar away was very powerful, which meant that Dobby had not disobeyed orders, so his tone became much more amiable.

The situation suddenly became very strange: on the ninth floor, Voldemort was engaged in a fierce battle with the Aurors and Muggles of the Ministry of Magic; while below, Dobby and Moran, who should have been the reinforcements, stood with the Death Eaters.

Nietzsche carefully closed the shelf full of clocks and hid himself behind the cabinet with the glass front door.

It was impossible for him not to be nervous. He had no idea when the opportunity would arise, nor what other uses the abandoned time-changer might have...

Just then, he suddenly heard Lestrange's manic, erratic voice: "Oi~ where are you? Hahaha, I used to play this kind of game with Sissi, but it was a game where wizards captured Muggles to experiment on~"

A dark wizard version of hide-and-seek; the 'Muggle' who gets caught will have to endure a hundred dark spells!

“I see,” Nietzsche said sarcastically. “No wonder you hate Muggles so much; you must have been bullied every day when you were a kid.”

"Avada Kedavra—"

The killing curse turned the shelf next to Nietzsche into dust, dozens of clocks inlaid with miniature hourglasses fell, then the dust reassembled into the shelf, became intact, and then shattered again... and so on in a cycle.

Nietzsche noticed that several time-converters that had rolled to his feet were not involved, but he had no time to think about it because Moran began to open fire.

“You’re wrong, it’s my sister Andromeda who’s a ‘Muggle’!” Lestrange winked at the Death Eaters.

Another deadly spell struck, and purple fire arrows flew from both ends of the corridor, but the moment they touched his chest, their flight paths were abruptly distorted, and they were returned to their master.

One of the Death Eaters was caught off guard and clutched his chest, rolling on the ground as the purple flames entered his body.

This looked like a dark magic that burned the soul. Nietzsche was a great philanthropist, and he could never tolerate such magic. So he pinched the air and used his magic to break the neck of the Death Eater.

Moran waved his wand in his right hand, casting several layers of defensive magic around himself. Then, ignoring the Death Eaters who were wrestling with Nietzsche, he fired a series of explosive spells at them.

The blast wave carried Nietzsche away; he felt no pain, but rather as if he had been pushed out of the mud by a tremendous force.

Looking back at the Death Eaters, they found their blasted wounds riddled with glass shards and splinters. The sharp objects would begin to detach from the gradually healing wounds, only to be immediately thrust back in.

Those people are still conscious, teetering between complete death and life, with the constant repair and damage to their nerves and cells causing them to suffer every second.

Nietzsche, however, was not affected by time, which made him even bolder.

Despite her madness, Lestrange was still cautious in her actions. When she saw how her men had their necks torn off and their limbs dismembered, she immediately used magic to protect herself so as not to suffer the same fate.

"Avada---"

Even so, Nietzsche was still able to indirectly influence his opponent through the nature of magic and the magic of defensive magic.

As a result, Lestrange's wrist was twisted, and the intense pain made her instinctively release her wand, unable to utter even a complete killing spell.

Meanwhile, Moran, with Dobby, launched an attack, the house-elves' unreasonable talents and more than thirty spells assaulting Nietzsche.

No wonder wizards forbid other creatures from carrying wands; if house-elves or fairies could have wands, their power would be even greater.

“You’re a genius, what a pity.” Moran’s attack didn’t stop either; he didn’t give Nietzsche a moment to breathe. “But you can rest assured, all your efforts will not be in vain... I will take over.”

Nietzsche raised the umbrella named 'Hermione Granger' in front of him, steadied himself, and began to walk forward step by step, braving the onslaught of rain.

The walls of the Department of Mysteries have been breached by countless spells, allowing you to see cauliflower-like creatures wriggling in jars in the adjacent Brain Hall, covered in sticky saliva, and a stone pit with a stone archway on the other side.

For some reason, under the crisscrossing beams of light, the black curtains hanging on the stone door made Nietzsche suddenly feel that the ancient stone door resembled a human body.

"I got it." Narcissa choked on the dust as she stepped over the stone bricks, carrying a crystal ball wrapped in her clothes.

When Narcissa saw Lestrange's miserable and horrifying face, her voice trembled with fear.

Lestrange, forgetting to cover his face, shouted in a panic, "You actually let house-elves collude with the Ministry of Magic?!"

“Dobby? It’s not our house-elf anymore!” Narcissa immediately blasted a hole in the wall that led directly to the hall. “No, I can’t leave yet... Draco hasn’t come back yet.”

"I said, no one is leaving today!" Nietzsche lowered his body, maintaining his sprinting posture.

The rain stopped, and the moment the magic-free tubular magazine fell to the ground, he charged toward the enemy like an arrow.

Moran was no slouch either. As a former Auror who had honed his skills in the Muggle world for many years, he still possessed considerable close-combat abilities. He deftly flicked his wand, unleashing a spell that made the hairs on the faces of the Death Eaters around him stand on end.

Perhaps Hermione's magic wasn't enough; the spell tore through the barrier in front of Nietzsche, striking his chest and causing his armor to clang like a gong—Nietzsche was jolted back several steps.

“Dark Lord! We’ve got it!” Bellatrix Lestrange cried out for help.

"Ah~"

A sigh came from the stone archway next door. Nietzsche turned his head but saw no one. However, he caught a glimpse of green light reflected from the shards of glass standing on the ground.

"There are many obstacles!"

This killing curse was even more deadly. He almost drained a portion of his magic power to gradually slow the curse's flight speed, and it was finally frozen in mid-air.

The tall, thin Voldemort descended as a puff of smoke, his clothes torn to shreds, his crimson eyes fixed solely on the crystal ball Narcissa carried.

“Very good, Bellatrix...you did a good job,” Voldemort said absentmindedly.

In fact, he was already sweating profusely from dealing with the hordes of Aurors and Muggles. Who knew there might be an ambush? Facing Nietzsche, he couldn't help but sigh inwardly. Logically speaking, he shouldn't have any emotions left.

This is truly strange; it seems as if every step I take is actually following Nietzsche's instructions.

Nietzsche held his wand in both hands; Moran pointed his blaster at Nietzsche with his left hand and his wand at Voldemort with his right; while Voldemort, leading the Death Eaters, conjured two serpents made of fire and pointed them at the two men.

For the first time, the three major factions in Britain were brought to the same table.

Chapter 339 The Death of Nietzsche

Li Huo was very powerful, but for Moran, who had been through many battles, and Nietzsche, who was gradually understanding the essence of magic, it was ultimately just a snack.

The fire serpent was suppressed by the magic with a "poof" sound, and then it was dispelled by the curse. But then a green light shot out from the dispelled fire sparks, but Nietzsche had already dodged it by then.

He seemed to be handling things with ease, which made Voldemort feel troubled...or rather, terrified...

“You knew I was coming to get the Prophecy Orb.” Voldemort spat.

"Do I look like someone who cares about prophecies?" Nietzsche chuckled. "I don't know, but I know someone sent you here... How pathetic, even if you make a comeback, you're just using someone else's weapon."

Voldemort instantly understood, and he shifted his gaze to Narcissa standing to the side.

“Great Dark Lord, I have no disloyalty whatsoever.” Lady Malfoy’s voice was filled with hatred. “You know, my husband and I told you about this from the very beginning. Malfoy will always be loyal to you.”

"Is it 'forever' or 'no choice'?" Nietzsche asked in a low, mocking tone.

Yes, she wasn't wrong. The Malfoys had said from the beginning that they hoped to use this opportunity to rescue Draco, but it was Nietzsche who gave them this idea.

Voldemort's face visibly darkened. What he couldn't stand the most was being led by the nose like an ox, with a python hanging to the ground, hissing horribly at Nietzsche.

At that moment, Nietzsche noticed a subtle, unintentional movement from the other man: Voldemort placed his left hand over the snake's head.

This action signifies 'protection,' and it's hard to imagine that a dark wizard like him, who has lost his humanity and has no respect for any life, would have such a mentality. Therefore, this snake served as a totem not only around Voldemort.

"You think you can kill me with this? Huh?" Voldemort shouted. "With a bunch of Muggles, to be honest, those toys aren't even worth mentioning."

“But it’s still enough to keep you busy,” Nietzsche said calmly.

Another deadly spell. His perception of magic was becoming more and more sophisticated; he could even sense attacks from blind spots.

Seeing that Voldemort did not attack him, Moran joined forces with him to attack Nietzsche.

This time Nietzsche did not stop them. He listened to the cries for help from the Muggle stormtroopers and the shouts of the Aurors around him... Some were injured, some died, and so others wept and roared.

"Avada!" "Sandstorm!" "Heart-piercing!"

“Mr. Holmes!” Dobby couldn’t help but remind him.

The Death Eaters, Moran, and Voldemort all wanted to kill Nietzsche, but he immediately threw Dobby out of the Time Hall and mouthed the words to those terrified eyes:

'Activate, secret code number 66.'

He was like a fisherman, all alone, holding a pitchfork and facing the storm.

Although the entire Time Hall was completely dark, Nietzsche could still perceive it:

The scorching heat, burning his skin through his armor; the viscous time; the piercing Cruciatus Curse; the shapeshifting spell that bound his legs; the Killing Curse that made his heart pound instinctively...

"clang---"

A clear chime rang out from inside a bell-shaped glass dome.

Nietzsche calculated the trajectory of the magic, and at the moment he was buried by the sea, he poured all the magic power in his body into the amulet, and his runic magic erupted with unprecedented power.

Fireballs, Explosions, Cruciatus Curse... those deadly spells transformed into magical power, expanding from Nietzsche's center, sweeping through the entire Time Hall, and surging into other rooms through gaps in the walls.

The cabinet was shattered, and every piece of the time converter was destroyed and disintegrated. The invisible magic merged together and began to affect everything in its path.

“Master----” Lestrange’s expression began to slowly twist, but his voice was drawn out infinitely when it reached Nietzsche’s ears.