Hogwarts: Bloodline Legend

Chapter 874 248: God of Witchcraft (2)

"Then what is truly important?"

Ian asked curiously while secretly channeling his magic power.

"Of course, it's that I can use your body to return to the human world once more... That is what truly matters!" The old witch, now revealing her true intentions, spoke confidently without concealing her purpose.

"I see, then this is a deadly enmity."

Ian realized.

"Yes, that's right, child, I will make good use of your body, and you shall stay here in my place." The old witch's bony fingers twitched in the air a few more times.

Then.

The entire forest floor suddenly began to wriggle—the black soil bulged, forming dozens of clay figures that were identical to Ian, each perfectly replicating his wand-wielding stance.

"Interesting."

Ian licked his suddenly cracked lips, feeling magic surging excitedly in his veins. Except for when facing Merlin, he hadn't felt such pressure from other wizards.

Hmm.

Helbo doesn't count.

Helbo wasn't in a wizard's state at that time.

"Can they replicate my magic?"

Ian looked at the doll-like clay figures.

The next moment.

The old witch answered with action; she moved her fingers as if playing the piano, and the dolls simultaneously raised their wands, casting spells in unison.

Dozens of beams of different colors formed a net, sealing off all of Ian's retreat paths. These spells were real—the witch could somehow twist cognition to make the soil replicas cast genuine magic.

"Indeed interesting."

A trace of surprise flashed in Ian's eyes.

However.

That's all there is to it.

"Unfortunately, they don't have my kind of magic power, nor do they have the magic I possess!" Ian's entire body surged with magic, and an overwhelming pressure appeared like the sky was falling.

All the magic directed at him almost simultaneously froze in mid-air.

As if.

It encountered a freeze.

"What kind of magic is this?"

The old witch's wrinkled face showed a hint of astonishment, and also a bit of confusion, as her puppets were supposed to unleash all the magic Ian could.

Yet.

Things did not go as she predicted.

"Time Magic?"

The old witch guessed with uncertainty; such magic was beyond her understanding.

"It is fate, madam."

Ian maintained the politeness Dumbledore taught him as much as possible.

"Not everyone has such strong intuition like me; this might be a unique magic of mine, but unfortunately, your puppets can't copy it."

Ian gently waved his magic wand, as if strumming the strings of fate, and the spells originally aimed at him all reversed in direction and bombarded the old witch.

However.

The old witch did not move.

All the magic transformed into black butterflies upon nearing her.

"Since we're sworn enemies, don't blame me then." Ian was not surprised, but rapidly raised his wand, channeling magic power, and used forbidden magic on this land of the dead.

"Evil Energy Burst!"

A dark green pillar of light soared into the sky.

It was like a mushroom cloud after a nuclear explosion.

Expanding in all directions, leaving nothing but decay in its wake, a terrifying magic capable of killing Witch Morgan.

Where it passed.

Even inanimate objects met their end. It was not just a Death Curse but also the anchor of fate, an unavoidable finale for any entity.

Everything around was stained with the green that symbolized death, countless twisted, almost lifelike trees vanished with a wail, leaving not a trace behind.

Souls.

Could die once more.

And that.

Would be a void where nothing remains.

"Hiss, what a terrifying magic."

The old witch sensed the power within this magic, visibly startled. Yet, she only remarked with an astonished tone.

"If I were still alive, such magic could kill me a thousand, ten thousand times. However... This is the Misty Illusion Realm." The old witch smiled delightedly.

"In this land, cognition surpasses magic."

Some familiar theory came from the mouth of this aged, ugly witch, causing Ian to pause in surprise. And at this moment, the old witch unexpectedly walked towards the howling green.

The green waves surged like a tsunami, yet the old witch confidently closed her eyes, choosing to trust in the truth she believed, starting to twist reality.

Then.

The next moment.

With each step she took, all the forces of death and despair once represented by that power, at this moment, flowed beneath her feet, forming an irresistible torrent seemingly pulled by an unseen force. Yet, this torrent did not bring death; instead, beneath her feet, it transformed miraculously into a vividly colorful meadow.

Vibrant and dazzling. Flowers bloomed on the meadow, vividly colored and fragrant, forming a stark contrast to the previously lifeless surroundings.

"You see, your struggle was futile, legend reborn." The old witch's voice was lively and melodious, and at some point, she had turned into a dazzling beauty.

Noble and elegant, with extraordinary grace.

"Why not comply with me?"

The witch crouched down, gently plucking a blooming flower, placing it at her nose to sniff, the fragrance seemingly piercing the soul, evoking countless fond memories.

"It's been so many years since I've seen such vitality." The transformed old witch, now a charming lady, spoke softly, full of sentiment, her peculiar eyes lingering with memories.

"Alright, you win this time."

Ian sighed.

"So, are you no longer resisting?"

The dazzling old witch's face was filled with a teasing smile.

"No."

Ian shook his head.

Under the old witch's surprised gaze.

"Indeed, cognition overwhelms magic, this I don't deny, but... I've seen a power that surpasses cognition." The little wizard spoke softly.

"Oh?"

The old witch's curiosity was piqued.

"What is it?"

She asked casually, as if indulging in idle chat.

"Summoning God Guardian!"

Ian directly cast the spell, countless silver threads appeared, beginning to sculpt the form of a young girl.

"Heh, what's this, are you suggesting it's the power of hope?" The old witch shook her head in disappointment, seemingly disdainful of Ian's response through magic.

"No, no, no."

Before Ariana took form, Ian quickly slipped a ring into her hand, "Quick! Call Pandro for the monster now!"

Then.

Not waiting for the bewildered Ariana to react.

The little wizard canceled the magic.

Ariana, with the Ring of the Patronus he gave her, returned to the original town.

"You'll see in a bit." Ian calmed his mind, contemplating whether it was feasible to bear the weight of King Arthur in the present world, but it should work in this Misty Illusion Realm.

If it doesn't work out.

I'll summon Teacher Morgan.

Teacher Morgan will surely come; she loves this student of hers the most—thinking so, Ian remained unworried, as he still had some other aces up his sleeve.

For instance.

Animagus form.

"Stalling for time is not a good habit."

The old witch sneered; her mature and graceful face wore an impatient look. She raised her hand as if to strike.

However.

Just as the little wizard grew wary.

"No!"

The witch's expression suddenly froze.

Her pentagonal patterned eyes flashed with a flicker of terror.

Then.

Filled with boundless fear.

As if witnessing something more terrifying than death.

"I didn't step out of the Black Forest! I didn't violate any rules!" The witch screamed, and before Ian could react, she turned abruptly, spreading her Vine Cloak into wings like a bat.

In almost the blink of an eye.

The witch, at an inconceivable speed, darted into the depths of the forest.

"What on earth?"

Ian was baffled about what she saw, turning around in utter confusion, only to find the Black Forest he destroyed was crazily regenerating.

Amidst this scene of "all things growing."

A crowned woman was elegantly approaching.

Graceful, divine.