Chapter 260: A Hail of Bullets, Wizards, and an RPG
Snakes. Countless snakes.
When Cedric, Luna, and Crabbe passed through the fireplace and arrived at the Dark Lord's lair, they were all stunned. The sight of piles upon piles of snakes writhing together was utterly terrifying. Looking around, they saw large and small snakes slithering everywhere.
The three young wizards instantly froze, their bodies taut, and quickly surveyed their surroundings while maintaining their entry positions. This was the first rule of adventuring that Professor Lockhart had taught them: observation is key. Never make unnecessary movements that could trigger a reaction from your environment.
"Snakes are afraid of fire, light, and smoke!" Cedric whispered his thoughts, his mind racing to find any way to deal with the current situation. "We can use a Soul Bonfire." This spell wasn't exclusive to Crabbe; the students in the Dueling Club all had the opportunity to learn it. However, the spell was so difficult that only a handful of them had ever managed to cast it, and even then, only barely.
Luna was one of them.
Cedric looked at his two companions. "If necessary, use that spell!"
Crabbe, in his usual earnest way, nodded. Although he was accustomed to casting "Soul Bonfire" on instinct, he didn't react now. Instead, he swallowed hard, his face filled with fear, and muttered, "I think I can really feel the kind of magical power the professor talked about..."
Cedric was taken aback. "What?"
"Mystery!" Crabbe replied, his breathing growing rapid. "I think I've seen a huge abyss, and these snakes are like tentacles reaching out from something horrifying in that abyss..."
Cedric's expression hardened. Many people might have dismissed Crabbe's words as a fool's ramblings, but as someone from an old pure-blood family, he had been taught by his father, a master of Defense Against Dark Creatures. His father had talked about the "pure-blood fools" who appeared from excessive intermarriage, saying that in some ways, they were more like Dark creatures than Dark creatures themselves. 'Trust their intuitive judgment on magic!' his father, Amos Diggory, had said.
Unfortunately, Cedric felt none of this "mystery." So he turned to Luna. "What do you think?"
Unlike Crabbe, who was tense with fear, Luna seemed so excited she wanted to hum and dance.
"So many Ghost Moths, too many!" Luna answered, thrilled. "These magical moths are a symbol of death, representing the lingering attachment that deceased humans have to the world. They carry that attachment to return to the mortal realm."
His father had told her this after her mother died one day, when a moth had flown into their house. He said it was her mother coming to see her. So, this magical creature, which most wizards couldn't see, always carried a warm aura, filled with the essence of human existence.
Right. Cedric had received two completely opposite answers.
After a brief discussion, they pulled out their broomsticks and lifted into the air, trying their best not to disturb the snakes. They followed the direction where the Ghost Moths were gathering, with Luna leading the way. In Luna's eyes, the Ghost Moths seemed to form long bridges, and by following these bridges, they would find the source of the soul power that was creating so much attachment to the world.
Then, they saw a place that looked like a cemetery. A large number of stone carvings with death-related meanings were arranged on a hillside. As they flew up the mountain, they could see a huge, eerie, grey-white stone building covered with various stone carvings of magical creatures. Some of these carvings were particularly massive.
The three of them flew past one of the statues on their broomsticks, like little birds passing a giant.
"Be careful!" Cedric grew even more cautious. "I can feel traces of Transfiguration on these stone carvings!" He frowned deeply. "These statues... they might be some kind of gargoyles. Don't disturb them!"
Luna looked up at the statues, her spiritual eyes staring blankly at the Ghost Moths fluttering around them. She said dreamily, "They look like people. People who can't rest in peace!"
The three of them continued to fly deeper into the mountain range. Gradually, they began to see signs of human activity. These people wore black wizard robes with large hoods and heavy metal masks, giving them an especially eerie appearance.
They had no idea what was happening here.
But Grindelwald knew very well. He reached out and touched the statues with a cold gaze. "He's preparing a resurrection ritual for himself!"
These statues were created through the Transfiguration of a very specific kind of human.
"Suspended between life and death, on the edge of mystery, wandering in shared pain—" He recited the ancient ritual in Runic, sighing as he looked at the statues. "I never expected that the 'Resurrection of the Living Dead through Shared Will,' a forgotten resurrection ritual, could be manifested in this way."
He then looked at Dumbledore, who was standing silently with his lips pursed. He scoffed. "We have to admit, he is absolutely the most talented and brilliant wizard of our generation, bar none!"
Dumbledore's gaze was sharp. "If he doesn't do good, the smarter he is, the more harm he will do to the world!"
Lockhart, standing beside them, was filled with curiosity as he felt the unique magical properties of these statues—that special "dullness." He was full of questions. "Mr. Grindelwald, what did you mean by 'in this way'?"
He was always full of curiosity about these wondrous things. In fact, while some people now considered him a wizarding master on par with Dumbledore, Grindelwald, and Voldemort, he knew very well that he was only a beginner on the magical path and didn't understand so many magical things. Always curious, always humble.
"Squibs!" Grindelwald glanced at him and gave him the answer. "Using the unique existence of Squibs to construct the magical element of the 'edge of mystery' is a stroke of genius."
He then looked at the statues standing between the distant mountains, teasing maliciously, "The Magical Congress of the United States is simply dreadful. All these Squibs were secretly brought here, and they didn't know a thing!"
Dumbledore shook his head. "This is the true state of society. Everyone ignores the existence of Squibs. Mrs. Figg once told me that they are like ghosts in this world."
PS: Mrs. Figg is a Squib and a member of the Order of the Phoenix. Dumbledore arranged for her to live next door to the Dursleys on Privet Drive to help look after Harry Potter.
Tap, tap! Lockhart took out his wand and tapped one of the statues. A series of silver threads emerged from the point of contact between his wand and the stone. The threads wiggled and intertwined, forming a Pensieve-sized basin. With a final flick of his wand, the silver threads in the center of the basin dissolved into a shimmering, star-filled silver liquid.
Then, he performed the mind-reading art that old Dumbledore had taught him, inserting his wand into the liquid and squinting as he felt its contents for a moment. He sighed. "They were once fooled by the Scourers, hoping to contribute something and get a chance to 'awaken their magic.' Strictly speaking, they were also members of the Scourers and were then all sold to Tom by the organization."
He carefully sensed the information. "The Scourers have a way to make them invisible to both wizards and Muggles. They are unknown to anyone and call themselves 'Edge Walkers.'"
As he was speaking, he turned around and saw that both Dumbledore and Grindelwald were looking at him with very strange expressions.
"Uh, what's wrong?" He was a bit bewildered.
"Gilderoy Lockhart," Grindelwald exclaimed, "in the field of memory, you have reached such a profound and breathtaking level."
The seemingly effortless spell Lockhart had just cast was something these two centuries-old, experienced wizards had never seen. Not to mention the lightness with which he did it—like unwrapping a piece of chocolate—the field of magic involved was something they couldn't replicate. No, they really couldn't.
What kind of a spell was this? It directly opened a person's mind, or even their soul? And then directly created a Pensieve from it? And then they could directly view the desired information from the other person's memories?
Could anything be more outrageous?
Actually, yes.
The statues in front of them weren't just ordinary humans. They were people who had been Transfigured into statues by some horrifying magic. Lockhart's spell had even bypassed Voldemort's resurrection ritual, completely ignoring the fundamental changes brought about by all the spells Voldemort had cast on these humans!
Grindelwald and Dumbledore couldn't help themselves. They drew their wands and also dipped them into the "Pensieve." They indeed felt the things Lockhart had just described.
And then?
The two old men exchanged a strange look, realizing they had no way to close the opening in the mind and soul that Lockhart had created. If the scene in front of them were a curse, no, if someone had an opening made in them like this by Lockhart, it would be far more terrifying than any curse.
What was despairing was that without Lockhart to close the opening again, they suspected that person might have to live their entire life with such a gaping hole in their soul. How terrifying!
Dumbledore couldn't help but think of a peculiar potion called "Prankster's Brain Broth," and he had a faint feeling that Lockhart's method was somehow similar to that magic.
Fortunately, Lockhart didn't know that the masters he looked up to couldn't do this. Seeing that they had confirmed the information, he casually tapped the statue with his wand, causing the memories to shrink back into the statue as silver threads.
He was so curious, feeling that he had only just verified old Gellert's deduction. He turned to him again. "Can you tell from this 'Resurrection of the Living Dead through Shared Will' magic what Tom's current state is? Did he succeed?"
Grindelwald's expression was serious. He nodded. "Yes, he succeeded. He has been resurrected!"
"Ooh-ho!" Lockhart's eyes lit up, and he rubbed his hands excitedly. "That's wonderful! I had no way of dealing with him in his ghost state. As long as he has a real body, I can be of some use."
"I have a guess about his physical state. Maybe he'd be willing to have his head become a snake head?"
"Oh, I'm kind of looking forward to it!"
Beside him, both Grindelwald and Dumbledore were struggling to maintain their composure. If they weren't about to face the great Dark Lord Voldemort, they would have really wanted to say that such extreme methods were not necessary.
Cedric, Luna, and Crabbe were discovered!
Even though they were wearing Invisibility Cloaks and had even cast a Disillusionment Charm on themselves, under the Muggles' thermal imaging surveillance, their exposed hands and feet were still very conspicuous when their cloaks fluttered as they flew through the air.
Alarms blared in every corner of the Dark Lord's lair. The three of them panicked and fled, trying to hide in a blind spot and get away from the surveillance.
Unfortunately, several wizards in black robes with green patterns emerged from different stone houses. Perched on their shoulders were red-eyed ravens, slightly larger than normal owls. These ravens cawed. With each caw, a bolt of lightning would strike from the air in front of it, hitting the three of them.
The lightning's attack power was very low. Even when Luna was accidentally hit, she only felt a slight tingle. It didn't even affect her ability to control her broomstick. But it was precisely because of this lightning that all of the Dark Lord's minions could clearly pinpoint the location of the enemy.
And then.
Da-da-da-da-da!
A group of Muggles raised their firearms and shot in their direction without hesitation. Bullets rained down.
Fortunately, the young wizards had all taken Professor Lockhart's course on Muggle weapons. They didn't believe the stupid contents of the Hogwarts Muggle Studies class and understood how terrifying these things were, so they didn't foolishly try to counter the bullets with a Shield Charm.
How do you defend against Muggle bullets? Lockhart had never given a standard answer. Magic itself has no standard answer, because magic is always unique to each person. He had explained the "characteristics" and required the young wizards to come up with their own "solutions" based on their own situations. That's how he had always taught.
And now was the time to see if they had done their homework.
Crabbe obviously hadn't. The goofy boy had no solution at all. It was fair to say that if it weren't for Lockhart's hands-on teaching, he wouldn't have mastered much magic.
Fortunately, he had Cedric and Luna.
Luna's method was a Transfiguration summoning spell.
"Avis!"
A simplified version of the Wand-Lighting Charm, Avis reduced too much of the control, and it didn't have the auto-targeting ability that Professor Flitwick used on the keys when he designed the Philosopher's Stone challenge. But it was easy to cast.
It was simple and easy to learn, and in a situation with weaker magical power, one could achieve control and modify the spell to fit one's own will.
Luna's Avis spell summoned a large flock of birds that blotted out the sun, a dense barrier in front of them. Any bullet attacking them would hit the birds first.
Cedric's method was more control-oriented. As he waved his wand, a series of football-sized orbs of electric light appeared and flew to different corners. These orbs were automatically attracted to nearby metal, emitting arcs of electricity that attacked the metal and generated an extremely strong magnetic force to attract the surrounding metal. As the orbs crisscrossed, all the bullets were deflected from their trajectory.
But these were only auxiliary measures. For young wizards who were not yet very powerful, the best way to deal with Muggle firearms was always to put distance between themselves and the guns. Fortunately, they were all on broomsticks now. And they were riding the best broomsticks of the era, the Firebolt.
The Firebolt could accelerate to 150 miles per hour (241 km/h) in ten seconds, fast enough to fly high and escape the range of the bullets.
Just then, more wizards rushed over, casting deceleration spells on the sky, and some even went straight for the Killing Curse. Bolts of green light with a terrifying aura of death tore through the night.
Swoosh~Swoosh swoosh swoosh~
The Dark Lord's flying squadron appeared in the sky. Black wizards in robes rode broomsticks, with Muggles carrying firearms and RPGs perched behind them.
Fwoosh~
A rocket trailed a large amount of smoke as it flew toward the young wizards at an extremely fast speed. The stone statues began to move as if waking from a deep sleep, and a few of them even flapped their wings and flew into the sky.
One of the statues was so massive, at two hundred meters tall, it was as majestic as a god.
"Soul Bonfire!"
Crabbe, as if gone mad, cast a spell toward the people on the ground, anxiously yelling, "Go to sleep!"
BOOM!
The two-colored magical flames surged and swept in all directions.
BOOM!
The rocket, influenced by the wizards' spells, exploded near the young wizards, sending a shower of fragments everywhere.
The entire lair of the Dark Lord seemed to have fully awakened.