The Old Ones of Hogwarts

Chapter 580, page 589: Deep Space Echoes March 9

"boom!!!"

A deafening roar, loud enough to shatter eardrums, exploded out, far more terrifying than any sound before it. The terrifying shockwave spread wildly in all directions from the point of impact, causing the space itself to distort and tremble violently, as if it were about to shatter at any moment.

Countless deep cracks instantly appeared on the already dilapidated black stone walls of Azkaban, and the cracks continued to spread, causing the entire prison to tremble. The North Sea was whipped up by the shockwave into towering waves thousands of meters high, the waves churning as if the entire North Sea was boiling.

Even the sky.

The thick clouds in the sky were instantly torn into pieces, a fierce wind arose, and shards of rock and seawater were swept up, creating an extremely chaotic scene.

The Aurors below were in terrible condition, unable to withstand the powerful aftershocks. They were violently thrown to the ground by the shockwave, rolling around in a sorry state, screaming and trying to dodge in all directions.

"Damn it! They're fighting again! They're fighting again!"

"How could this happen!"

"Can't they go fight somewhere else?!"

Some people bumped into the wall, some fell into the shallows of the beach, their uniforms covered in dust and seawater, looking disheveled, but no one dared to complain.

No one dared to get up and fight again; they could only lie on the ground, trembling with fear.

They didn't even have the courage to look up.

"My God—the aftershocks are so terrifying! If you were hit head-on, you wouldn't even be left with ashes! It's even scarier than the Avada Kedavra curse!" A young Auror lay on the ground, clinging tightly to a stone pillar beside him, his voice trembling uncontrollably, tears and snot mingling together, his face filled with terror.

"Is this really the power a wizard can possess? This is a demon god! It's a true battle between demon gods!" Another Auror, clutching his bleeding forehead, stared at the fading light in the sky, his voice filled with despair. "Even if we all went together, we would be like a mantis trying to stop a chariot; we would be crushed in an instant."

As the dazzling light gradually faded, the two remained suspended in the sky, facing each other from afar. Neither retreated nor fell.

A trickle of bright red blood seeped from the corner of Grindelwald's mouth, sliding down his chin and dripping onto his black robe, spreading out red marks. Yet, the smile on his face grew even more maniacal and fervent, the fighting spirit in his heterochromatic eyes almost overflowing, and the fierce fire around him still burning fiercely, showing no sign of retreat.

Dumbledore's face paled slightly, and his breathing became a little rapid, clearly indicating that he had also exhausted himself. However, his hand holding the Elder Wand remained as steady as ever, without the slightest tremor. Although the golden light around him had dimmed a bit, it was still firm, and his eyes were full of composure and determination.

"Interesting—exactly interesting!" Grindelwald wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth, then licked it lightly with the tip of his tongue, the action carrying extreme madness and provocation. He stared at Dumbledore and burst into laughter. "Fifty years! Finally, someone has forced me to use my full strength. Albus, you truly are my only opponent! Continue! Make this battle even more intense!"

"Stubborn to the end, Gellert, now I have no choice but to stop you completely." Dumbledore shook his head slightly, a hint of a sigh in his voice, but his movements were incredibly decisive. He slowly raised the Elder Wand, and the tip of the wand began to gather an even more intense golden light.

Grindelwald also raised his wand at the same time, and black fiery flames spewed from the tip of the wand. The two men's eyes met, and the tension in the air instantly reached its peak. All the Aurors held their breath, not daring to even breathe loudly, staring intently at the sky, waiting for the next round of even more terrifying duels.

The next second, the two shouted at the same time, their voices resounding through the sky and shaking the sea surface once again!

"Fierce Fire - Burning the Heavens!"

As Grindelwald cast his incantation, countless black fiendish flames erupted from his wand, no longer scattered, but instantly coalescing into a colossal black fire dragon capable of devouring the heavens and earth! The dragon was hundreds of meters long, its scales composed of pure fiendish flames, its eyes burning with black flames, its jaws wide open, revealing countless sharp fiery fangs, and it roared to the sky with a deafening roar, charging towards Dumbledore with an aura of utter domination.

"Boom!"

Wherever the flames passed, the air was scorched and distorted, even turning the night sky black.

"Holy Light - Judgment!"

Dumbledore's incantation followed immediately, and the tip of the Elder Wand emitted an extremely brilliant golden light, which quickly condensed into an enormous, towering lightsaber!

The lightsaber, with its straight blade and runes, carried the power to purify everything and sever evil. It plummeted from the sky at incredible speed, slashing fiercely at the black fire dragon with a whooshing sound!

The black fire dragon and the golden lightsaber collided violently in mid-air. Instead of exploding immediately, they were locked in an extreme stalemate. The black flames and the golden holy light fought fiercely, eroding and burning each other. The light and flames intertwined, so bright that it was impossible to open one's eyes.

At that moment, the world lost its color, time seemed to stand still, all sounds disappeared, leaving only the buzzing of the magical battle. The Aurors below were all frozen in place, their minds blank, completely losing their ability to think, and could only stare blankly at that extremely shocking scene.

A few seconds later, the stalemate was broken. The black dragon and the lightsaber vanished simultaneously, turning into countless golden specks of light and black sparks that drifted down slowly, like a strange rain of light and fire.

High in the sky, Dumbledore and Grindelwald remained locked in a silent standoff. Both were panting heavily, their chests heaving, their magic depleted, and their faces showing exhaustion. Yet their gazes remained resolute. Neither of them fell, neither of them retreated, and they continued to stare intently at each other.

It seemed as if as long as they had a sliver of strength left, they would immediately launch the next attack.

On the ground, the Aurors struggled to their feet, brushing off the dust and seawater. They were all ragged and disheveled, yet they still looked up at the sky, their eyes filled with awe, fear, and shock—a mixture of emotions.

I was unable to calm down for a long time.

In their eyes, those two figures suspended high in the sky were no longer ordinary wizards, but gods who were above all living beings.

This battle is destined to become an indelible memory for them for the rest of their lives.

"I will never forget this night in my life—" The elderly Auror Grand Master picked up his wand from the ground, his voice hoarse and full of awe. "This is the most shocking duel in the history of the wizarding world. We are fortunate or unfortunate to have witnessed it."

While everyone's attention was focused on the two fighters battling in the sky, atop a towering reef not far from Azkaban, a jet-black raven stood silently, its posture upright, undisturbed by the shockwave. Tilting its head, its dark, bright eyes clearly reflected the golden and black interplay of light and shadow in the sky, reflecting the earth-shattering battle.

If you look closely into its eyes, you'll find no trace of animalistic ignorance; instead, they gleam with an extremely human-like light—appreciation, satisfaction, and calculation.

There was also a barely suppressed, deeply hidden smile.

"The acting is superb." Raven thought calmly to itself, without uttering a sound, yet exuding an air of absolute certainty: the performance was flawless.

Grindelwald brought to life the crazed, paranoid, and war-hungry dark wizard, unrestrained and ruthless, with every move carrying a devastating ferocity.

Dumbledore perfectly embodies the righteous guardian who is forced to fight, has a strong sense of justice, and is restrained and patient. He is calm and determined, proceeds step by step, and always holds back, yet his strength is equal to that of his opponent.

One was arrogant to the extreme, the other restrained to the extreme. Their confrontation was flawless. Every collision, every argument, every trace of exhaustion was incredibly real. No Auror present, no one who witnessed this battle had a single doubt.

They would only believe that they were mortal enemies who would fight to the death, a true battle to the death.

It gently flapped its black wings, adjusted its stance, and remained firmly atop the highest point of the reef, continuing to quietly "enjoy" this meticulously planned and spectacular show, its gaze fixed on the two figures high above, without wavering in the slightest.

In the night sky, golden light and black flames slowly coalesced once more, a new collision was about to begin. The wind grew more violent, the waves more turbulent, and the entire North Sea trembled. The ruins of Azkaban wailed in the wind.

It was as if they were lamenting this divine duel.

That night, the North Sea was sleepless, with giant waves surging and the entire sea trembling under the pressure of two extreme forces. Even the deep-sea monsters dared not surface, cowering on the seabed and trembling.

That night, Azkaban collapsed, and this wizarding prison, which was said to never fall, was as fragile as paper in the face of this confrontation.

That night, all the Aurors who witnessed it saw a power beyond their comprehension, and the two figures floating in the night sky were forever etched into their souls.

It became a legend passed down through the ages in the wizarding world.

The raven on the reef silently witnessed everything. It knew perfectly well that this seemingly earth-shattering life-or-death duel was nothing more than a meticulously orchestrated play, merely the beginning of a grand plan. The real strategy, the real game, the truly exciting part was yet to come.

This duel in the skies above the North Sea was just the first act of a grand drama; the subsequent dramatic changes would be enough to shake up the entire wizarding world.

On the ruins of Azkaban, there was not a single superfluous scene, only the extreme conflict tearing the entire world apart. The sky was forcibly split in two, one half being the pure golden light emanating from Dumbledore, clear and heavy, carrying the holiness and suppressive power of ancient magic.

The other half is the black fiery controlled by Grindelwald.

The flame core glowed with a dark purple hue, wild and violent. Wherever it passed, even the air was scorched and distorted. Broken stone pillars and shattered iron railings in the ruins melted at the slightest touch, and even the cold sea breeze was scorched into heat waves.

Two beams of extreme magical light collided violently without any buffer. Each collision produced a deafening roar, and the sound waves spread along the sea surface, creating giant waves several meters high that slammed into the remaining stone walls of Azkaban, crushing the already dilapidated fortress into even greater pieces.

Two figures darted through the clouds and black mist at breakneck speed, so fast that only two afterimages of gold and black remained, their movements impossible for the naked eye to capture.

Dumbledore's white robes were enveloped in golden light, his movements graceful yet steady. With each shift, he precisely avoided fatal attacks, and the Elder Wand seemed to come alive in his hands, moving at his will. Grindelwald, on the other hand, was surrounded by black flames, his movements as swift as a falcon, carrying a ruthless determination.

The two fought from the low sky above the sea to the top of the clouds, and then crashed down from the clouds onto the ruined platform. Every collision of their limbs and magic caused the boulders beneath their feet to explode, with debris and magical shockwaves flying everywhere, turning the isolated island that imprisoned the dark wizard into a dueling arena for top wizards.

The Aurors below had already retreated to the reefs three miles away, completely out of the core area affected by the battle. They huddled behind huge dark reefs, in the crevices of the remaining half of the stone wall, and some clung tightly to the only intact iron gate in the ruins.

Everyone gripped their wands tightly, their knuckles turning white from the force, their arms trembling slightly, but no one dared to raise their wand.

Not a single person dared to make even the slightest extra sound.

They were the elite handpicked by the Ministry of Magic, having witnessed the chaos caused by dark wizards and experienced the sporadic battles of the Wizarding Wars, but the confrontation before them had far exceeded all their understanding of magic.

This was no ordinary wizard duel. There was no back-and-forth exchange of spells, no probing defenses. This was a life-or-death battle between two legends who stood at the pinnacle of magic, using their life's magic and beliefs.

Their spells lack flashy lights and shadows, yet they can tear through space; with each gesture, they can rewrite the magical rules of the surroundings.

The residual magical energy emanating from them was so powerful that even ordinary Aurors' wands groaned and nearly slipped from their grasp. The Aurors exchanged bewildered glances, their eyes filled with fear and confusion. They didn't know who to point at, and dared not intervene lightly, for even a leak of residual power could instantly obliterate them.

Faced with such a confrontation, their so-called elite strength is nothing more than a vulnerable ant.

Gleason slumped behind a cold, damp rock, his back pressed against the rough surface, gasping for breath. Each breath carried the salty tang of the sea and the pungent smell of burning magic. His chest heaved violently, and his face was covered in cold sweat.

Cold sweat mixed with seawater splashed on his face, dripping down his jawline and accumulating into a small puddle at his feet.

His robes were already torn by the rubble, and there were several bloody marks on his arms from the aftershocks of magic, but he felt no pain at all. All his attention was drawn to the duel in the sky, and his heart felt as if it were being tightly gripped by an invisible hand, almost leaping out of his chest.

The man's right hand gripped a bronze emergency contact badge tightly. The badge was engraved with the emblem of the Ministry of Magic, and a faint silver light flowed within the patterns.

This is the Ministry of Magic's highest-level emergency item, with built-in cross-regional communication magic. No matter where in the world you are, as long as you press the badge, you can instantly send a distress signal to the Ministry of Magic and the International Wizarding Federation at the same time. The signal strength is enough to penetrate any magical barrier.

"Damn it!" Gleason's fingertips were numb from exerting too much force. His fingertips rubbed the trigger button on the badge repeatedly, but he didn't press it.

His arm froze in mid-air, caught between a rock and a hard place.

he knows.

You can ask for help.

But who can beat these two?