At Hogwarts, the story begins with deconstructing Avada Kedavra.

Chapter 83 Arcane and Magic

The clash between flames and magical power reverberated in the cramped principal's office, causing the silverware on the bookshelves to shatter one after another.

Nicolas Flamel was pushed into a corner by a gentle but irresistible magic.

Dumbledore did not turn around; his gaze was fixed on the constantly twisting gray shadow, and the Elder Wand was trembling slightly.

"This is not a suitable burial place for you, Ashford family."

Dumbledore's voice was clearly audible amidst the roar as he gripped his wand and slammed it down.

The space began to fold violently.

The gray-cloaked figure sensed the anomaly in the space. He quickly changed his hand seals, bringing two fingers together and tracing them across the void, attempting to teleport through the layered space.

"Certainly."

Dumbledore uttered a single syllable.

The space, which had been swaying like water, instantly froze.

A silver chain erupted from the tip of the Elder Wand, branching and splitting in mid-air like a giant spider web, blocking all of the opponent's escape routes.

"Whoosh!"

The next second, the entire tower seemed to be shaking.

When vision cleared, the surroundings were no longer the office filled with the scent of wood and books, but the dark, damp depths of a forbidden forest.

The night wind rustled through the towering oak trees.

The moonlight was fragmented by the lush foliage, casting dappled patterns on the ground.

The two landed in a clearing in the woods, far from Hagrid's cabin and away from the centaur's territory.

The moment the gray-cloaked figure landed, his body leaned forward due to inertia, and he pressed his left hand into the soil.

"Diamond Realm!"

He uttered a low growl. Dark green blood seeped into the earth from between his five fingers.

The ground within a ten-meter radius around him suddenly bulged up.

The soil and withered leaves were forcibly kneaded together by magic, transforming into five enormous clay heads with three eyes each.

These heads were an eerie bluish-gray color, and they opened their mouths wide, spewing thick, putrid purple smoke from deep within their throats.

Instead of dissipating, the smoke clung to the air, weaving intricate lines that robbed the area of ​​life.

Dumbledore stood twenty paces away, making no unnecessary movements, but simply taking a step forward.

With this step, the once dull and lifeless forest seemed to suddenly awaken.

He waved his wand with the lightness of a conductor conducting a symphony.

As if sensing some supreme command, the tree roots around the open space surged out like giant dragons from the depths of the soil.

A tree root with a diameter of more than half a meter precisely shattered one of the clay heads.

The soil clumps flew everywhere, and the purple smoke was forcibly dispersed by the airflow generated by the tree roots.

Immediately afterwards, countless tiny vines shot out from the ground, weaving themselves in the air to form a giant hand that slammed down on the gray-cloaked figure.

The cloaked man let out a cold snort and drew a standard spell with his right hand using his wand.

"Fireball"

The moment the giant hand made of vines touched the fireball, its inherent logic of transformation was forcibly altered by an intervening force.

The once vibrant greenery faded, the vines withered and carbonized in mid-air, and finally turned into a pile of black ash.

"Interesting spellcasting," Dumbledore remarked, his tone as calm as if he were speaking in a classroom.

He flicked his wrist.

Moisture in the air condenses.

Countless drops condensed in mid-air into arrows, blocking every angle from which the cloaked man could dodge.

At the same time, Dumbledore raised his left hand horizontally and gently lifted it off the ground beneath his feet.

"Boom"

"6

The earth trembled. Two towering stone giants rose from the soil.

They have no facial features, and their bodies are made of hard granite, causing the ground to shake violently with every step they take.

The stone giant roared, swinging its fists powerful enough to smash through the city walls, and surrounded the city from both sides.

Faced with the combined attack of water arrows and stone giants, the gray-cloaked man finally showed a hint of impatience.

He formed the hand seal again, "Asura Form!"

His body spewed out a large number of twisted souls, which twisted and howled incessantly, eventually forming a phantom with six arms.

"Jingle bells!"

A series of impacts rang out as the six-armed phantom swung its arms, shattering all the incoming water arrows.

Then, the phantom's two arms suddenly spread out to the sides, forcefully blocking the stone giant's heavy punch.

Due to the collision of forces, a deep pit was created in the ground beneath the cloaked figure's feet.

His knees were slightly bent, clearly indicating that this level of competition was extremely taxing on him.

Ashford, you rely too much on these vicious methods.

3

"Dumbledore said in a low voice."

Instead of continuing to cast large-scale spells, he began to wander around the open space.

As he moved, the Elder Wand in his hand kept tapping around.

Each spot that is touched will leave a golden dot of light.

Those are ancient magical runes, silently connecting together.

The man in the gray cloak sensed danger.

This feeling of being stripped away layer by layer and gradually rejected by the world reminded him of the exiled ancestors in his family records.

"What do you know—Dumbledore!"

The cloaked man roared as he tore open his gray cloak.

Beneath the cloak, his body was covered with countless runes.

He grabbed the wand, and cracks burst open on his body.

Blood spurted out, but instead of falling to the ground, it remained suspended in mid-air.

"Using blood as a guide, we can analyze all things!"

The pupils in his eyes disappeared, replaced by constantly pulsating arcane runes.

He grabbed at the void fiercely.

The stone giant stopped moving.

The granite on their bodies began to peel away on its own, transforming into their most primitive elemental forms.

The golden rune arrays that were forming also began to shake violently, as if the foundation of magic was being eroded.

For the first time, a look of seriousness appeared in Dumbledore's eyes, but not from fear, but from a sigh.

"Is this the path your family has chosen?"

Strip away the miracles of magic and use alchemy to achieve your own power.

Dumbledore stopped wandering around.

He raised the Elder Wand high.

The clouds above the Forbidden Forest suddenly parted, and a beam of moonlight fell onto the tip of the staff.

"All things return to their proper place."

The light emanating from the Elder Wand covered the entire open space.

Under this light, the blood offered by the gray-cloaked man was instantly transformed into a wisp of green smoke.

The six-armed phantom let out a mournful wail, melting away as rapidly as snow under the scorching sun.

The stone giant's remains were reassembled, not only restoring it to its original state but also doubling in size.

They roared, their large hands closing in, trapping the cloaked figure within.

"Ugh—!!!"

The cloaked man let out a painful growl as he felt his magic being forcibly suppressed by another power system.

"You can't leave."

Dumbledore approached step by step.

The stone giants stood like two impenetrable walls, tightly squeezing each other between them.

"Tell me, what's so special about Lucian Ashford? What exactly do you want from your infiltration of Hogwarts?"

19

The cloaked man was breathing heavily, and dark green blood was flowing from his seven orifices.

He looked up at Dumbledore, a twisted smile spreading across his face hidden beneath his hood.

"Dumbledore—you are indeed as powerful as a god."

"But even gods—could not stop the spread of 'arcane'."

He suddenly opened his mouth and bit off his own tongue.

The muffled chanting came from his blood-stained throat.

His body began to collapse inward.

"not good."

Dumbledore's expression changed slightly, and he pointed his Elder Wand forward, attempting to interrupt the other's spellcasting.

However, the spirits surrounding the cloaked man's body continued to hinder his spellcasting.

"Albus Dumbledore — Today is just the beginning."

The cloaked figure's voice reverberated in the air, overlapping and sounding as if it came from different people.

"You will find that the world you are protecting is already riddled with holes."

"boom!"

A muffled cracking sound rang out.

A blinding purple light exploded at the center of the stone giants' encirclement.

When the light faded, all that remained beneath the stone giant's massive hand was a pile of rotting flesh reeking of stench, and a few pieces of gray cloth.

There was no fluctuation of the soul, no trace of life.

Only a faint smell of sulfur lingered in the air, along with a persistent, blasphemous arcane warmth.

Dumbledore stood quietly in place.

He lowered the Elder Wand, and his once upright figure now showed a hint of fatigue.

He walked to the pile of rotting flesh, bent down, and used the tip of his wand to pick up a broken fragment of a rune.

The patterns on the fragments were already blurred, but the aura still made him feel uneasy.

Ashford————

He murmured softly.

The sound of rapid hoofbeats came from the woods.

Several centaurs carrying longbows emerged from the shadows. The leader, Ferrenzer, looked at the ravaged clearing and then at Dumbledore.

"Albus, the constellations have changed." Ferenczer's voice was low and worried. "Mars is still bright, but there is a dark star we've never seen before that is eating away at the moon's light."

Dumbledore straightened up and put the fragment into his pocket.

His blue eyes became deep and unfathomable again, but deep within them lay a profound worry about the future.

"I know, Ferencze."

He looked toward the castle, where the towers appeared quiet and beautiful in the moonlight.

"The storm has never gone away; it has simply returned in a way we are not familiar with."

He turned around, his black robe fluttering in the night wind, and his figure slowly disappeared into the thick fog of the Forbidden Forest.

In the open space, amidst the scorched earth, a once-dead seedling quietly sprouted its first green shoot from the footprints left by Dumbledore.

But in the center of that green bud's leaf, a tiny, purple geometric spot can be faintly seen.

Corrosion had already begun.

Only after Dumbledore's figure completely disappeared into the mist did the creatures of the Forbidden Forest, who had been lurking in the shadows and had witnessed the entire battle, dare to make a move.

Bain stood on the towering rock, his forelegs digging incessantly into the mud, trampling the dead leaves into the mire.

He gripped his longbow tightly, and Ronan stood beside him, his gaze sweeping across the treetops, fixed on the surging purple and golden light in the distance.

"The light from Mars is being blocked," Ronan said softly.

His gaze was fixed on the stone giant.

Bain did not respond; his breathing became heavy, and his nostrils flared.

As the putrid purple smoke rose, he took a half step back, instinctively aiming his arrow at the open space.

"That's Dumbledore," Ronan added.

“There’s something else,” Bain forced out from deep in his throat, his jaw clenched. “It’s a decaying power. It doesn’t belong to this forest, nor to the stars we observe.”

He abruptly sheathed his longbow and turned to walk into the deeper shadows.

"Don't come any closer," Bain ordered his people behind him. "Tonight, the Forbidden Forest refuses the centaurs' footsteps. That place is dying."

In the canopy not far from the open space, several enormous eight-eyed spiders slid down their webs.

They were originally drawn by the roar of magic, eager to capture their startled prey.

But when the lead giant spider touched that purple layer, it kept colliding its chelicerae, making sharp and chaotic clicking sounds.

"Fire, and something colder." One of the spiders retreated back onto the thick branch.

Their compound eyes reflected the scene of the ground cracking, and their eight long legs scratched restlessly on the bark, leaving deep scratches.

"Go back and tell Aragog," the giant spiders whispered, their limbs trembling. "The old white-bearded man is hunting, but what he caught wasn't prey, but poison that could burn down the entire forest."

They quickly burrowed deep into the dense spider web, sealing the entrance to their nest with sticky silk.

At the edge of the woodland, a group of Thestrals stopped feeding. They raised their bony heads, their nostrils flaring as they caught the lingering smell of sulfur and the unfamiliar stench of blood in the air.

A young Thestral tried to run toward the light, but the lead mare let out a low neigh and spread her leathery wings to block its path.

The mare stared intently at the spot where the cloaked man had self-destructed, her eyes appearing cold in the darkness.

It sensed the shattering of its soul, and the feeling of that unnatural death disgusted it.

It flicked its tail, driving its herd into the thick fog, avoiding the land still speckled with purple.

A cold draft from the astronomical tower blew through the windows, ruffling Nile Lemaître's silver hair.

The alchemist, who had lived for six centuries, did not leave immediately; his gaze remained on the clearing in the Forbidden Forest.

"That's not magic, Albus—or rather, it's not the kind of magic we understand."

Nile muttered to himself.

"Traditional magic is art, resonance, and a sincere plea from the wizard to the world."

Nillere dipped his fingertip into a speck of purple dust floating in the air, watching it dance between his fingers. "When Albus waved his wand, he was speaking to all spirits, he was praising life. But that person—"

Nile remained silent for a moment.

"He is 'analyzing.' He is stripping away the appearances of everything to see its essence."

He looked at the purple dust that coalesced into a perfect circle, and a bitter smile appeared on his lips.

"Is this the magic of the New World?"

It doesn't require wizards to possess particularly noble emotions or talents; it only requires an inquisitive mind.

He walked to the window and pointed to the distant ruins of the collapsed stone giant.

"Did you see that? The stone giant wasn't shattered; it was negated." That adversary had constructed a self-consistent world model in its mind, attempting to redefine the world from its very core.

"But this is an arrogant misguided path, Albus," Nile murmured, a hint of worry in his eyes. "When you try to simulate absolute truth with your brain, but your thinking is insufficient to bear such infinity, magic is already dead."

, 7

He watched Albus slowly walk back in the distance and gently shook his head.

"Magic should be warm. This world shouldn't be disturbed so roughly."

, 7