Asterion and Seleneia were trapped near their lair.
They poured all their strength into amplifying the magic surging within them, the unicorn horns on their foreheads glowing with an ever-brighter silver-white light.
Countless transparent cracks spread through the air, originating from their horns and straining to envelop their bodies.
Just a little longer, and they would be able to break free from the confinement around them.
Both unicorns turned their gaze toward the dark corner of the lair.
Along with a low, soft, chilling voice, a figure wrapped in a black hooded robe stepped out of the darkness.
The figure lifted his head, wisps of dark mist swirling around a ghastly silver-gray mask.
The hooded man raised his right hand. A thin, pale hand gripped a magic wand, its tip pointed straight at Asterion.
Black and red light flared around the wand, threaded with crackling arcs of electricity as it rapidly gathered at the tip.
"Forget the male unicorn. I want the fetus in the female unicorn's belly!"
"I can feel it. That pure, beautiful life force has already ripened. This is the best moment to partake!"
Hearing the shrill, frantic voice echoing in his mind, Quirrell endured the piercing headache and forced himself to redirect the wand. The tip shifted toward the smaller unicorn beside him, her belly visibly swollen.
In the next instant, the sound of shattering porcelain rang out sharply.
Asterion was the first to break free of the restraints. Without the slightest hesitation, he unleashed his full power and charged straight toward the black-robed Quirrell.
The surface of his spiral horn had condensed into an almost solid silver light, making it seem as though the horn itself had lengthened.
A unicorn's horn carried unique magic, and wounds inflicted by it were exceedingly difficult to heal.
Against a wizard's body, a single strike would all but decide the battle.
Asterion aimed directly for the figure's chest—more precisely, his heart.
He intended to kill in one blow.
Quirrell, however, had no time to react. He could not even twitch his wand.
The unicorn's burst of speed was simply too terrifying, especially in its frenzied state.
The silver-white light at the tip of the horn was about to touch Quirrell's robe when—
The ground beneath Quirrell suddenly softened, turning into gray-black mud. Asterion's four hooves sank into it as the sludge writhed upward, wrapping around his body.
Asterion's charge came to a complete halt, as though time itself had frozen him in place.
Only then did cold sweat bead on Quirrell's forehead.
"M-Master… it worked."
"Heh heh, well done, Quirinus."
"Y-Yes. It's the magic you bestowed upon me… so it had to work... such powerful magic…"
Quirrell trembled as he brushed his chest, forcing his violently pounding heart to calm slightly.
The spell used to restrain and capture the unicorn had been taught to him by Lord Voldemort—a rare Dark Arts spell that triggered automatically as a form of protection.
However, each use required extensive preparation beforehand: the vivisection of ten shape-shifting lizards' hearts, followed by the brewing of a complex Potion that had to be applied across his entire body.
During this period, Quirrell had been searching for and tracking unicorns in the Forbidden Forest, all while preparing the materials for this Dark Arts spell.
Another sharp cracking sound echoed.
Seleneia also broke free from her restraints.
But before she could make any move, Asterion let out a short, urgent whinny before the mud sealed his mouth.
He was telling Seleneia to run—to ignore him.
But Seleneia neither needed to hesitate nor to choose.
Countless withered yellow thorns were already erupting from the surrounding ground and trees, shooting skyward, twisting, intertwining, and knotting together.
In the blink of an eye, they formed a dome that sealed off the Forbidden Forest and the moonlight beyond.
Now, only Seleneia herself gave off a faint white glow, barely pushing back the darkness.
For a brief moment, panic flooded Seleneia.
She didn't know whether she should try to rescue Asterion first or attempt to break through the encircling thorns.
Yet she never once considered killing the wizard who had suddenly appeared; she feared he might have other means to restrain Asterion.
Anxiety, fear, anger, and a host of other emotions surged through Seleneia all at once.
Then, a sharp pain stabbed through her abdomen.
The silver-white light surrounding her body flickered and dimmed.
At that very instant, a spark of dark red, lightning-like light flared behind her.
Quirrell's wand was already raised, ready to cast. He could not delay any longer.
Lord Voldemort's voice urged him ceaselessly in his mind.
If Quirrell did not obtain the unicorn fetus's blood now, then at the rate his life force was being drained, he would be dead in about a month.
Crack—!
A faint sound reached Quirrell's ears. It was different from the crackle of magical electricity around his wand—more like the sound of burning flame.
Out of the corner of Quirrell's eye, he caught sight of a small flame suddenly igniting in the darkness, its crimson-gold glow illuminating the withered yellow thorns.
The instant Quirrell saw that flame— Boom!
The entire thorn dome was engulfed in blazing crimson-gold fire.
The sudden, searing heat left Quirrell momentarily disoriented, and the arcs of electricity around his wand grew unstable.
Instinctively, he looked toward a spot within the curtain of flames.
A strange creature stepped out from the fire. Its form was as large as a camel, its body covered in fine, pale golden scales that gleamed with a metallic sheen under the flames.
A pair of short, white glass horns had already curved sharply atop its head.
Its mane, like flowing molten crimson gold, drifted slowly amid the waves of heat.
Its glassy eyes shone brilliantly, reflecting Quirrell's stunned and helpless expression.
With every step it took, the scorching heat around it intensified.
"I want it!"
"Quirinus!"
"This vast, rich, and pure life force can help me recover even more!"
Lord Voldemort's voice, now bordering on a shriek, echoed inside Quirrell's mind, the needle-like pain stabbing at his nerves.
As if trying to escape that agony, Quirrell snapped his wrist. The dark red arc of electricity condensed into an arrow and shot straight toward the strange creature that had appeared out of nowhere.
Snap!
The arrow struck true, sending a few faint currents rippling across the pale golden scales, and then… There was nothing...?
This Dark Arts spell, which should have exploded into a massive sphere of lightning, failed to even interrupt the creature's glow.
At the moment the spell was cast, streams of purifying fire erupted from the creature's body, transforming into enormous crimson-gold dragons that surged toward the hooded figure from multiple directions.
Quirrell hadn't even had time to understand what was happening.
Then a cold voice thundered in his mind:
"Useless!"
In the next instant, Quirrell felt control of his body torn away completely.
The eyes visible through the sockets of the ghastly mask instantly turned scarlet as the swirling dark mist surged violently.
"Quirrell's" figure twisted and vanished from where he stood an instant before the white fiery engulfed the area.
When he reappeared, he was already beside the restrained Asterion.
With an elegant flick of his wand, a large spray of thick, silver-white blood burst forth from Asterion's neck, splattering into the air.
As he reveled in the vast, sinister magic surging through the warped magic circuits within his body, "Quirrell" was bathed in the unicorn's blood as it streamed down his mask.
Yet he did not lick it, nor did he drink it.
He now had a better choice.
________
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