While Link and Dumbledore were talking, Voldemort, clad in black half-plate armor in the distance, had already stylishly finished a complete blood-flick sword-sheathing sequence.
It was a technique he had trained hard to master in his youth.
Handsome and elegant, it perfectly matched his noble bloodline and supreme status.
The only pity was that as he grew older and his magical skill rapidly increased, this peak close-combat technique lost its usefulness and became little more than a novelty.
But now, with the blood-red longsword in his hand, things were different again.
"Hahaha!"
He laughed wildly, feeling immensely satisfied.
The blood-red blade in his hand slashed repeatedly. The swings looked neither forceful nor particularly fast, yet several terrifying crimson sword energies shot into the sky, as if they wanted to cut apart Link, Dumbledore, and even the stars in the universe.
Meanwhile, Link and Dumbledore had finally finished talking.
With a wave of his hand, Link controlled the green wind and bound Dumbledore... whose mobility was already poor and was now nearly incapable of high-speed movement due to his injuries... to a position about half a foot behind him.
Then he carried Dumbledore along as he rode the wind, constantly weaving through the crimson blades.
Dumbledore wasn't idle either.
Although Link's constant changes of direction made him feel miserable, he still controlled the golden-white holy light to help block the blade strikes that couldn't be avoided.
The two slowly advanced toward Voldemort.
Voldemort showed no fear at all. Laughing wildly, he charged forward while swinging his blade.
Seeing this, a slight smile appeared on Link's lips.
The mist armor around him suddenly peeled away from his body the moment Voldemort approached.
Maintaining a humanoid shape, it spread its arms and pounced toward Voldemort.
Voldemort raised his sword to cut it down.
With a weapon in hand, murderous intent naturally arose.
Just as someone with a hammer wants to hit everything they see, Voldemort, after mastering the technique of combining physical combat and magic, wanted to cut everything he saw.
But just as he began to move, his entire body froze.
The fragment of Voldemort's soul inside Harry had remained asleep for years. It had only recently been awakened by Soul Fragment Number One, which possessed the largest soul mass and had devoured the original owner's soul.
Naturally, it had never seen Link's Steam Bomb.
But Gerard was different.
He had personally witnessed that terrifying magic through the memories of the main soul.
Now, seeing this newly awakened soul fragment preparing to slash the Steam Bomb with the blade forged from Gerard himself, how could he tolerate it?
Driven by fear, Gerard resisted Voldemort's control with an unprecedented level of determination.
The entire blood-red sword trembled violently as Gerard and Voldemort struggled for control.
This finally made Voldemort realize something was wrong.
Through the mental connection between soul fragments, he eventually understood Gerard's thoughts.
His gaze toward the mist armor gradually became cautious.
In the end, he merely swung two probing strikes from a distance.
Boom...
The moment the blood-red blade struck the mist armor, an enormous amount of high-temperature steam erupted outward, turning the entire world into a scorching white.
This was highly compressed steam that had been heated by Fiendfyre to the extreme and later enhanced by Dumbledore's golden-white holy light.
Its corrosive and destructive power had already exceeded ordinary understanding.
Even the thick darkness spreading from Voldemort's body retreated before the white steam.
Voldemort's reaction wasn't slow either.
With a wave of his hand, fierce winds rose.
A sharp hurricane centered on him instantly carved out a large clear space within the sea of white steam.
But it was already too late.
The surrounding temperature had risen rapidly from the steam's heat, reaching a level even Voldemort found difficult to endure.
More importantly, the white steam mixed with Dumbledore's golden-white holy light was no longer a purely physical gas.
The magic within it heavily suppressed Voldemort's senses, trapping the mental power he constantly used to scan his surroundings inside the small space opened by the hurricane.
Then several enormous Vanishing Charms nearly three meters in diameter shot toward Voldemort from different parts of the mist.
Along with them came the air shells Link had prepared.
The area covered by the attack was so large that it completely blocked all of Voldemort's escape routes.
"Hah! Cheap tricks!"
Voldemort grinned savagely.
He rose into the air and held the longsword diagonally above his head.
After a brief charge-up, he suddenly plunged downward.
The blood-red sword became a blur in his hands, dancing around him like a bird in flight.
The crimson blade, mixed with pale-white vapor explosions produced by supersonic slashes, nearly merged into a continuous sheet.
It completely enveloped Voldemort and expanded outward in a spherical pattern.
Wherever the extremely sharp crimson blade passed, the Vanishing Charms and air shells all collapsed.
Even the surrounding space itself was sliced with fleeting, fine cracks.
Only after a full five seconds did Voldemort finally land after delivering the final strike.
The attack had put a considerable burden on him.
Even now, he was breathing heavily.
But it was worth it.
Because after the sword storm, everything around him... including the white mist... had been completely cut apart and reduced to nothingness.
Link and Dumbledore had also been struck several times.
They were now floating a hundred meters away in the air, with several deep wounds exposing bone and spraying blood.
Their faces were filled with fear and lingering shock.
If Link hadn't moved quickly enough and Dumbledore's golden-white holy light hadn't been so effective defensively, they would have been chopped to pieces.
Watching the two of them desperately using healing magic and potions to stop the bleeding, Voldemort threw back his head and laughed proudly.
"It's useless! Every slash I create carries cursed magic. Without the proper counter-curse, even if you wash the wounds with phoenix tears, they won't heal! You are all going to die!"
The moment he said that, Link and Dumbledore froze while pouring potions into their mouths.
Their expressions became extremely strange.
Voldemort thought they had fallen into despair.
Leaning on his sword, he laughed even more wildly.
But the next moment, the laughter stopped abruptly.
Because he was shocked to discover that Link casually waved a hand.
The wounds on both himself and Dumbledore immediately stopped bleeding and began slowly healing.
The healing speed was slow, and the damage from the slashes still remained.
But with the help of large amounts of potions, Link and Dumbledore avoided bleeding to death and regained the ability to continue fighting.
While Voldemort stared in shock, unable to find words, Gerard's voice sounded in his mind,
'I understand that you've just awakened and are eager to vent your emotions. But before that, could you at least read the intelligence I sent into your sea of consciousness?
It contains nearly all the information on Dumbledore and Link!
If you'd looked through it even once, you'd know that Link Flamel studied under Severus Snape and is most skilled with the Severing Charm. After reaching Legendary rank, the attribute he mastered was also cursed magic.
And now you're actually hoping to kill them with slashes empowered by cursed magic?'
The astonishment on Voldemort's face gradually faded as Gerard explained.
Eventually, his expression became utterly cold.
Like a thousand-foot-deep icy pool, dark and chilling.
This rapidly extinguished Gerard's anger and gave him a bad feeling.
Panicking slightly, he said,
'Let's just say I misspoke! You can read it now if you want! But you absolutely can't keep using me as a weapon anymore. I'm already almost... '
Gerard's voice was scattered by the wind.
Voldemort had already shot into the sky, gripping the sword and assuming the same charging stance as before.
Gerard wanted to scream.
The blood-red blade trembled continuously.
At the same time, seeing this scene, Link and Dumbledore smiled together in the distance.
"It should be about time, right?" Link said with a smile. "Our attacks were all aimed at that sword. Almost all of them hit the same side point. Most importantly, those attacks contained both your holy light and my Fiendfyre. Both of those energies are highly effective against Horcruxes. Combined with Voldemort's reckless use of it, no matter how durable that soul-fragment sword is, it should be close to breaking."
Unlike Link, Dumbledore looked extremely exhausted.
There wasn't the slightest trace of pride on his face.
Even his smile was bitter.
Nodding with difficulty, he said,
"I agree. Another round like this, and that soul-fragment blade will definitely shatter. But the problem is, how do we survive his next attack long enough to see that happen?"
Link took a deep breath and looked at Dumbledore's chest.
The flashy dark-blue star-patterned nightgown had long since been torn apart.
Dumbledore's thin chest was exposed to the air.
To be fair, Dumbledore's physique was actually quite good.
Most people over a hundred years old weren't nearly this sturdy.
At the very least, his ribs weren't visible one by one.
But now, several long pale-red marks were carved across that chest that still retained some flesh.
They were Voldemort's handiwork.
Since the battle began, Dumbledore had been beaten around three separate times.
The wounds inflicted earlier had damaged his internal organs.
If Link hadn't given him Felix Felicis beforehand, his heart might already have been cut apart.
Dumbledore wasn't completely incapable of fighting now.
But if he had to endure another round of the sword dance Voldemort had just unleashed...
Then Hogwarts would be holding a funeral tomorrow.
And they would probably need an undertaker to sew Dumbledore's shredded body back together so he could be buried whole.
Lowering his eyes, Link let out a long sigh.
"You really know how to cause trouble, old man. You always act so powerful, but when it matters most, you let me down."
"I'm very sorry..."
Dumbledore spoke slowly.
There wasn't the slightest dissatisfaction in his voice despite Link's rude words.
Instead, there was warmth.
He smiled at Link and then at Hogwarts Castle behind him.
A faint light flickered in his eyes.
"But we've already come this far. Holding on a little longer shouldn't be impossible."
As his words fell...
Golden-white light rose once more.
But unlike before, flames could now be seen burning within that golden-white glow.
As the flames gradually spread across Dumbledore's body, all traces of his previous weakness vanished.
"Listen, Link." Dumbledore suddenly looked decades younger. "I know your mist armor can absorb damage. The higher the attack frequency and damage, the stronger the superheated steam bomb inside it becomes.
Next, I'll help you block most of the slashes. You don't need to doubt me. If I say I can stop them, then I can.
What you need to do is maintain the mist armor.
Then, the moment the soul-fragment blade shatters, bring the mist armor close to the enemy and detonate it, directly attacking his main body.
If we do that, I believe that even if he doesn't die, he'll be seriously wounded.
That will give you a chance at victory.
Do you understand?"
Throughout Dumbledore's speech, Link's expression barely changed.
His eyes remained fixed on the flames rolling across Dumbledore's body.
As a master of controlling Fiendfyre, he could clearly sense the energy radiating from those flames.
It was completely opposite to the power of curses.
In other words, it was life force.
Put simply, Dumbledore was burning his own life to gain power.
"Link! Did you hear what I just said?!"
Dumbledore shouted with unprecedented seriousness.
Only then did Link raise his head.
Imitating Draco's usual arrogant manner, he sneered at Dumbledore through his nose.
"You half-dead old man still wants to join the fun? Are you kidding me? Fawkes, get over here and take this old man back to lie down!"
"This is not the time to be stubborn, Link. Listen to me. This is our only way to defeat Voldemort and protect Hogwarts."
"Without my help, even if you survive that level of terrifying slash attack, you won't have enough strength left to fight. And if that happens, you'll have no way to oppose the enemy's main body."
Dumbledore spoke seriously.
"Besides, you can't command Fawkes. She's my phoenix. She only listens to me. It doesn't matter how much she likes you."
"Oh? Are you sure?"
Link still held his head high, his expression rebellious.
The moment his words fell, a magnificent phoenix emerged from the flaming vortex behind him.
Warm phoenix fire instantly enveloped Dumbledore.
Carrying him through space itself, it vanished.
Only then did the arrogant smile finally disappear from Link's face.
Slowly, he turned his head and looked toward Voldemort, who was flying toward him while swinging his blade.
His eyes were filled with gravity.