The Old Ones of Hogwarts
Chapter 568-577: The Prelude to the Deep Space Descent 6
Chapter 568-577: The Prelude to the Deep Space Descent 6
have to say.
The original Dark Lord was incredibly powerful and had a very high level of prestige.
Flying in mid-air.
Flames raged around.
Grindelwald was incredibly charismatic and arrogant.
Dumbledore glanced at him, a slight smile playing on his lips: "After all these years, your Fiery Flame is still so—flashy, so infuriating."
Upon hearing this, Grindelwald grinned, a smile full of arrogance: "Flamboyance? Albus, that's art."
Before he could finish speaking...
The second wave of attacks from the ancient dragon has arrived!
It opened its massive maw, and a burst of blazing dragon breath, powerful enough to melt everything, erupted forth!
That dragon's breath was no ordinary flame; it emitted a strange, almost white light—a terrifying presence with temperatures so high it could incinerate all matter and even magic! Wherever the dragon's breath passed, the air itself seemed to burn, leaving behind a twisted, lingering scorch mark!
Dumbledore's expression turned serious. The Elder Wand swung again, this time not with a defensive spell, but with an offensive one.
"GlaciusMaima!"
A chilling current erupted from the tip of the staff, colliding violently with the blazing dragon breath in mid-air!
The cold current and the dragon's breath intertwined, bursting out with a deafening roar. Large amounts of white steam spread outwards like a volcanic eruption, instantly enveloping the entire open space!
The steam was incredibly hot, hot enough to cook an ordinary wizard's lobster. But a faint, mist-like protective layer appeared around Dumbledore.
Keep the high temperature out.
Yes, Old Deng isn't just good at Vulcan's magic; Vulcan's magic is just a cool-looking one. In fact, wizards like him are basically all-rounders.
Grindelwald then made a gesture that made Dumbledore raise an eyebrow slightly. He didn't dodge or defend himself; instead, he simply opened his arms wide.
They rushed in, braving the scorching steam that could melt steel!
But the next second, he understood.
From within the steam came a low, guttural laugh, as if it came from hell.
Then, the white steam that filled the sky began to disappear at a visible speed—not dissipated, but swallowed up!
Grindelwald's figure appeared and disappeared in the steam. The black flames surrounding him had expanded to a diameter of more than ten meters, like a huge, greedy maw, frantically devouring everything around him!
The high-temperature steam, the residual dragon breath energy, and the magic permeating the air were all swept into the fierce fire and turned into its own nourishment!
Fiery Blaze—devours everything and transforms it for its own use.
This is the terrifying aspect of a fully leveled Fiery Blade.
When the steam completely dissipated, Grindelwald hovered in mid-air, surrounded by black flames that were even larger and more intense than before.
A satisfied smile played on his lips, and his heterochromatic eyes reflected the astonished gaze of the ancient dragon.
"Thank you for the treat," he said softly, then raised his hand and pointed at the huge ball of black flames, which pounced on the dragon like a hunting dog obeying a command!
The dragon roared and unleashed another burst of dragon breath! The white dragon breath and the black flames collided violently in mid-air!
This time, there was no explosion, no impact.
Only devouring.
The black flames were gradually devouring the white dragon breath!
For the first time, terror appeared in the dragon's eyes.
It had lived for tens of thousands of years, seen countless challengers, and killed countless overconfident ants. But it had never seen anything like it—a flame capable of devouring dragon breath!
Grindelwald's laughter echoed in the air: "What? Never seen Fiendfire before? Well, you giant lizards, you've lived for ten thousand years, and you haven't seen many worthy opponents, have you?"
Before he could finish speaking, the dragon suddenly swung its head, and its huge, scaled head crashed down on him like a collapsing mountain!
Grindelwald didn't take the hit head-on. His figure vanished from his spot in an instant—it was Apparition, incredibly fast. When he reappeared, he was already behind the dragon.
But before he could launch an attack, Dumbledore's voice rang out: "Gellert, to the left!"
Grindelwald instinctively looked to his left—
The dragon's tail was lashing out at him with the force of a thousand armies!
His pupils contracted slightly, but the smile on his lips deepened. He didn't dodge; instead, he pushed forward with both hands, instantly splitting the ball of fiery energy entangled with the dragon's breath in two! One half continued to devour the dragon's breath, while the other half transformed into a massive, pitch-black wall of fire, blocking his path!
The giant tail slammed hard against the wall of fire!
The wall of fire trembled violently, and countless cracks appeared on its surface, but it did not collapse. Instead, it clung tightly to the scales on the giant tail, frantically devouring the dragon's primordial magic power!
The dragon let out a painful roar and abruptly pulled back its tail. More than a dozen of the scales on its tail had been eroded and mottled by the fierce fire, revealing the blood-red flesh beneath.
Grindelwald wasn't faring any better. Taking the blow head-on caused his magic to surge violently, and a trickle of blood seeped from the corner of his mouth. But his smile grew even brighter, even more maniacal: "Interesting! Very interesting!"
Dumbledore shook his head, but his eyes were full of admiration. He knew that Grindelwald's Fiendfire had reached a level he had never seen before—it was not just magic, but something akin to art, an existence fused with the caster's soul.
Without wasting any time, he raised his wand and began chanting a complex and ancient spell.
The dragon's attention was completely drawn to Grindelwald, and it failed to notice the threat brewing behind it.
Grindelwald noticed. His smile deepened.
"Hey, giant lizard!" he shouted, hurling another ball of fiery energy at the dragon. "Look here!"
The dragon roared and unleashed another burst of dragon breath, which once again clashed with the Fiery Blaze.
And Dumbledore's spell was finally complete.
A thick beam of magic, shimmering with seven colors, shot out from the tip of the Elder Wand and struck precisely the spear that Grindelwald had previously inserted into the top of the giant's head!
The spear instantly burst forth with a piercing light, and countless tiny, rune-like patterns spread out from the spearhead, quickly covering the dragon's head!
That was Dumbledore's unique runic magic, which allowed complex mental attacks to be injected directly into the enemy's body through a physical medium!
The dragon's body stiffened violently!
Its eyes were wide open, its pupils trembling wildly, clearly experiencing an indescribable mental shock! The runes, like living things, burrowed into its skull, penetrated its soul, and frantically tore at its mental defenses built up over millennia!
Grindelwald seized the opportunity and pushed forward with both hands—
The raging fire entangled with the dragon's breath surged instantly! It no longer merely devoured, but began to attack proactively! Countless black fire serpents split off from the fireball, spreading wildly along the dragon's neck, limbs, and body. Wherever they passed, the indestructible scales began to crack and melt!
The dragon let out a blood-curdling scream! Its body thrashed violently, rolling frantically on the ground, trying to extinguish the fiery flames clinging to it. But the fiery flames were no ordinary flames—the more it struggled, the more fiercely they burned, greedily devouring its magic, its flesh, and its life force!
Dumbledore knelt on one knee, panting heavily. Maintaining that kind of runic magic was taking a heavy toll on him.
His face was ashen, and cold sweat poured down his forehead, but he did not fall. He simply looked up at the dragon that had gone mad, his eyes filled with determination.
"Looks like we're close to winning."
Grindelwald hovered in mid-air, surrounded by ever-growing black flames.
His robes fluttered in the hot wind, his silver hair danced in the air, and his heterochromatic eyes burned with a black light as dark as the abyss of hell.
"etc."
Ian's voice suddenly rang out, carrying a hint of warning. Dumbledore looked up at him. The twelve-year-old boy was staring at the fallen dragon with an amused expression.
"It's not dead yet."
The voice just fell.
as predicted.
That massive, mountain-like body suddenly moved. Not a mere twitch, but a real, powerful movement.
The dragon's chest began to heave. Its left eye, pierced by the golden beam of light, was healing at a visible speed! Its right eye, devoured by the black fire dragon, was also regenerating! The scales, cracked and scorched by the fierce flames, were falling off, revealing new, even darker and harder scales underneath!
"What's going on?!"
Dumbledore's pupils suddenly contracted.
Grindelwald's smile froze on his face.
"This—how is this possible?!" he roared in disbelief. "We clearly pierced its eyes! My Fiery Blaze devoured a third of its primordial magic!"
Ian sighed, a hint of helplessness, completely out of character for his age, appearing on his youthful face: "Gentlemen, I forgot to remind you that the truly terrifying aspect of an ancient dragon is not its breath, nor its power, but—"
He paused, looking at the rapidly recovering behemoth: "Its magic resistance and regeneration."
The dragon suddenly opened its eyes—no, it had four eyes. Its two destroyed eyes had been completely reborn, even brighter than before! Its head slowly turned, looking at the two tiny humans. The initial contempt was gone from its gaze; only pure, undisguised killing intent remained.
But it didn't attack immediately. It just stared at them silently, as if enjoying the despair of its prey.
Dumbledore sensed something was wrong. He raised his wand, and a probing cutting spell shot out, striking the dragon's scales, and then—vanished.
It wasn't bounced off, nor was it resisted; it simply vanished, as if it had never existed.
"This is—" Dumbledore's voice was hoarse.
"Magic resistance evolution," Ian said. "Ancient dragons develop temporary resistance to magic after being attacked. Your attack was too powerful, so powerful that it felt truly threatened. Therefore, its body, or rather its instincts, are evolving frantically to adapt to your magic."
Grindelwald's face turned extremely grim: "You mean, the harder we attack it, the harder it becomes to attack?"
Ian nodded. "Pretty much. And—" He pointed to the old scales rapidly falling off the dragon's body, "look there."
The two looked in the direction he was pointing.
In the areas scorched by the fierce fire, old scales are falling off and new scales are growing. The color of the new scales is deeper and darker than before, and strange, rune-like patterns even appear on their surface.
"It's evolving to counter your Fiendfire," Ian said. "The newly grown scales will have a natural advantage against fire magic. If you give it a few more minutes, your Fiendfire might not even be able to burn through its skin."
Grindelwald's face turned ashen.
Dumbledore took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down. He looked at the recovering dragon, his mind racing.
"What about its weaknesses? Surely there's a limit to this kind of evolution?"
Ian thought for a moment: "Theoretically, yes. Each evolution requires a large amount of life force and primal magic. If enough damage can be inflicted in a short period of time, making its evolution speed unable to keep up with the rate of injury, then it can be killed."
He paused, then added, "But the problem is, given your current state—"
He didn't finish speaking, but his meaning was already clear.
Dumbledore and Grindelwald exchanged a glance, both seeing the same thing in each other's eyes—
Exhausted, but not yet given up.
Grindelwald spoke first, his voice hoarse but firm: "Then let it fall behind."
He raised his wand again, and the Fiendfire around him, which had dimmed considerably, reignited. But this time, the flames were a deeper, more eerie color, as if all the energy had been compressed to its absolute limit.
Dumbledore also raised the Elder Wand, its tip gathering a final glimmer of light. His face was ashen, and his body swayed precariously, but he did not fall.
"Ian," Dumbledore said, "if we fail—"
“You will not fail,” Ian interrupted him, a serious glint in his deep eyes. “Because you are Dumbledore and Grindelwald.”
He stepped back a few paces, leaned against the roots of a giant tree, and then—pulled a strange object from his pocket.
It was a small, square device that shimmered with a faint magical light, with several constantly rotating gears on its surface and a thumb-sized crystal lens that was automatically focusing.
Grindelwald's lips twitched slightly: "What is that?"
Ian blinked, his innocent expression making you want to punch him: "The time machine has a built-in function—a time camera. It can record any moment in any time and space."
He adjusted the camera, pointed it at the two of them, and gave them a bright smile: "Don't mind me, keep going. I just wanted to record the most embarrassing moment for the two professors."
Dumbledore: "————"
Grindelwald:
6
'
The dragon clearly didn't have the patience to wait for them to finish speaking.
It suddenly opened its massive maw, and a burst of dragon breath, even more intense and enormous than before, erupted forth! The color of that dragon breath was no longer white, but rather a strange, deep blue, like liquid flames—a terrifying existence with temperatures so high that it could incinerate space itself!
All I saw was...
Wherever the dragon's breath passed, the air twisted wildly, and the vitrified rocks on the ground instantly evaporated, leaving behind a bottomless ravine emitting blue smoke!
The scene was absolutely horrifying!
Fortunately, this place is in ancient times; otherwise, if a battle of this magnitude were to take place in an urban area, the entire city might be affected.
It far surpasses Paris back then.
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