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Chapter 125 - Chapter 125: The Complete Sword

Disclaimer:

Harry Potter and all of its characters belong to J.K. Rowling.

I own nothing but the original characters I make.

"Dialogue"

'Thoughts'

-Author notes-

Chapter 125: The Complete Sword

On June first, Morgan and Harry launched an assault on the Argent Flame headquarters located in Asturias, Spain.

Much like in the French base, they encountered more resurrected members of the Round Table. This time, it was Ser Percival and Ser Tristan.

The fights were brutal.

Percival, the most gentle of the knights in life, had been turned into a relentless berserker, his signature floret now dripping with dark magic.

Tristan, a master of the spear, had been stationed atop a high balcony, raining down on them an endless number of conjured spears that could track their targets through walls.

But Morgan and Harry had learned from their previous encounter, and this time they worked together, covering each other's weaknesses. Morgan used her mastery of ancient runes to temporarily disrupt the pillars feeding the knights, while Harry engaged them directly.

Both knights were defeated. Their souls were released in the hope that they would find a peaceful rest after centuries of torment.

The base's Admiral had been holding onto the last fragment of Excalibur, which Harry promptly retrieved after a short but vicious confrontation.

The sacred sword was finally complete.

Unlike the French Admiral, this one did not have a suicide capsule. Harry extracted the information he needed through Legilimency before ending the man's life.

Unfortunately, the only piece of information they obtained was that the main headquarters of the order, and the place where their Leader was hiding, was on Lundy Island, England.

Which was something they could have guessed already, since it was the only base they had yet to attack.

They also discovered that the entire island was surrounded by powerful protections that would kill any intruder immediately. These protections also included a massive nest of red dragons and a dozen anti-air sentinel cannons.

Harry and Morgan decided that they were going to need to put together a plan before launching an assault on that one.

<><><><><><><><><><>

Underground training arena underneath Rannoch Lake, Scotland

The dome was massive, carved from smooth, pale rock that seemed to absorb sound. It sat beneath the depths of Rannoch Lake, accessible only through a hidden entrance that Morgan had enchanted herself the previous year, or through the use of a portkey.

The air inside was cool and dry, illuminated by floating orbs of pale blue light that cast no shadows.

Harry stood in the center of the arena, barefoot on the stone floor, his robes discarded on a nearby bench. The wound on his shoulder had healed days ago, leaving only a faint white scar.

In his hands, he held the complete Excalibur for the first time.

The blade was a thing of terrible beauty. It measured nearly four feet from hilt to tip. The metal had a deep blue color that almost made it seem like glass.

Golden runes ran along the blade, pulsing slowly like a heartbeat. The edge was so sharp that Harry had accidentally cut the training dummy in half just by touching it with the sword.

He swung the sword in a wide arc. The air screamed in protest. A wave of invisible force erupted from the blade, slicing across the arena and carving a deep gash into the far wall.

Harry frowned. That was not what he intended to do.

"You are putting too much magic into it," Morgan called out from the edge of the arena. She was sitting on a large rock, her staff resting across her lap, watching him with an expression that was a mixture of amusement and exasperation. "Excalibur amplifies whatever you pour into it. If you keep pouring so much into each swing, you are going to pass out from exhaustion in less than a minute. Also, your swings are too obvious. Anyone with a working pair of eyes would be able to predict the trajectory and avoid them, making you waste even more magic."

Harry adjusted his grip. "I never held a sword in my previous life."

"I know." Morgan's lips twitched. "It shows."

He shot her a flat look, then returned his attention to the sword. He tried a different approach…a simple thrust, like he had seen knights do so many times before.

Excalibur responded differently this time. The tip glowed briefly, and a thin beam of golden light shot forward, piercing the wall and leaving a smoking hole.

"Better," Morgan admitted. "But you are still thinking like a wizard. A sword requires smooth movement...use your entire body, not just your upper half. Pay attention to your legs as well."

Harry lowered the blade. "Why don't you teach me, then?"

Morgan raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me." He walked toward her, holding Excalibur loosely at his side. "You've held a sword before. In your youth, before you fully embraced magic. I remember watching you train with Morgause."

Morgan's expression flickered. "That was a very long time ago."

"And yet you still moved like a warrior when we fought the Admiral's guards in Spain," Harry said. "I saw you deflect a strike with your staff. That wasn't magic. That was muscle memory."

She was silent for a moment. Then she stood up, sighing. "Fine… but I won't be holding back with you."

Morgan conjured a couple of practice blades made simply of iron, with dull edges. "We'll use these to practice some moves. We don't have a lot of time, so it will have to be a very intense training."

Harry nodded. "I would not have expected any less from you." He put away Excalibur and grabbed the practice sword.

"First lesson," she said, taking a position ten feet away from him. "Stop holding it like a club. Your grip is too tight. The sword is an extension of your arm, not a hammer."

Harry adjusted his hands on the hilt.

"Better. Now, come at me."

He hesitated. "You want me to attack you?"

"I want you to try to attack me." Morgan grinned. "There is a difference."

<><><><><><><><><><><>

Two hours later, Harry was lying on the floor of the chamber, his face covered in sweat. "Am I…improving?"

"A little bit." Morgan was still fresh as a rose. Her vampire physique could not be compared to that of humans. She was more than capable of doing this for days without the need for rest.

She dropped the blade on the ground and conjured a sofa to sit down for a bit.

"We need to talk about Lundy Island," she said. "And about the Triwizard Tournament."

Harry's expression hardened. "The third task is in three weeks. June twenty-fourth, and I have to participate. The soul contract is binding, and if I ignore it, I lose my magic."

"Then you participate," Morgan said flatly. "We have no choice. But that means the assault on Lundy Island will have to wait until after the tournament."

Harry nodded slowly. "Unless they decide to attack during the task. They know who I am now, and that I have the complete Excalibur…the Argent Flame won't wait forever."

Morgan's fingers tightened around her staff. "Then we prepare for both. We make a plan for the island, and we make a plan for the tournament. And we pray that the two do not collide."

Harry looked at the complete blade of Excalibur, gleaming under the pale blue lights.

"I stopped relying on prayer a long time ago," he said. "Now I rely on magic, and on the people I trust."

He met Morgan's eyes.

"And I trust you."

Morgan said nothing. But after a long moment, she nodded.

"Then let's begin."

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