I, Hogwarts Second Time Around.

Chapter 390 God! I dedicate this body to you.

"People like you, remnants of the gods' favor, are my targets."

"Surrender!"

Irving spoke boastfully.

The madness in his words drew the attention of Priest Lavieu.

She looked at Owen with a meaningful gaze in her deep blue eyes.

Is he the rightful heir?

Some surprises.

But after the battle, she must have been mentally prepared, so when the truth was revealed, the expected shock did not occur.

"Since you insist on doing this," a cruel glint flashed in Priest Lavieu's eyes, and then he slammed his staff into the ground, sending out an invisible rhythm.

The rhythm spreads very quickly and unnoticed.

Owen did not sense any magical tricks.

He was still manipulating Meteor and Hermione to maintain a pincer attack from both sides, and the defeat of the undead was inevitable.

After such a long battle, their agility and spellcasting speed have greatly diminished, much like a car that has run out of gas.

Although the priest Lavyu's golden disc remained intact, the strange magic it contained blocked almost all spells.

However, the amount of magic power required to sustain such magic is absolutely enormous, and she cannot last long.

"Looks like I won," Irving said with a smile.

The priest of Lavieu on the other side gave a noncommittal chuckle.

The battle continues.

About one or two minutes later

When Owen noticed that Hermione's spellcasting frequency was dropping rapidly, he encouraged her, "Hang in there a little longer, she's about to give up."

Owen's magical power was already far greater than that of ordinary wizards, and with the addition of ancient magic, he was prone to misjudging the duration of a normal wizard's spellcasting. For example, Hermione—each Origin Magic required a large amount of magic to support it, so it was possible that she was somewhat fatigued in such a high-intensity battle.

However, just as Irving turned around to check on Hermione's condition...

A curse suddenly shot towards him.

It was so fast that Irving had no time to prepare.

Or rather—he didn't see it at all.

At the critical moment, Bakal, who was putting on a crown on his head, reacted.

It flapped its wings and used its dragon body to block the curse.

For Bakal, a curse of this magnitude wouldn't even leave a scratch on its scales.

"Hmm? What's wrong?"

On his head, Bakal stretched out his claws, staring at Owen's forehead.

That's what attracted his attention.

Then, Irving looked to the other side.

Only then did he notice that Miss Granger seemed to be in a somewhat strange state.

It should be terrible!

At Hermione's feet—the three wizards she saved, plus the comatose old man.

At this moment, their chest cavities were opened.

Thousands upon thousands of bloody granulations of flesh and blood vessels surged and stretched out like hands from the torn chest cavity.

Six wriggling hands gripped Hermione's limbs.

Then, it transformed into living armor, attaching itself to her body and spreading little by little.

"The Divine Blade is Without a Shadow!"

The next moment, an invisible blade sliced ​​through and severed those arms.

The attacked flesh and blood, like snails, quickly retreated back into their shells.

Then, without support, Hermione immediately fell to the ground.

"Bakal, go keep an eye on that woman, don't let her get away."

Irving roared.

Then he quickly went to Hermione's side.

The moment he touched her body, Owen felt a temperature far exceeding that of ordinary people.

Fever—this is the body's instinctive response to an external infection.

At this moment, the flesh and blood attached to her body had crystallized, resembling a bright red gemstone.

With just a light touch, they turned to dust and scattered.

But Hermione's symptoms did not disappear.

On the contrary, it continues to worsen.

"Owen—" Hermione was still conscious at this moment. She just felt sore all over and very tired, but she still mustered her energy and did not fall asleep.

"It's so cold," she said weakly.

Judging from her outward symptoms, Miss Granger should be feeling like she has a bad cold, but Owen knows very well that this is not a cold—it is much more serious than a cold.

On the other side—the priests of Lavieu, who thought they had caught someone red-handed, were all excited.

Although the silver dragon before her was spewing breath and unleashing crimson lightning, making her quite disheveled, she still managed to steady the disc and raised her voice, saying, "Perhaps you've seen the war of the sea gods in the newspapers, those monsters that could infect wizards!"

"The federation calls them ominous signs, which is a good name, very fitting."

"I don't need to say more, you can probably guess that Miss Granger was naturally infected by the ominous sign." She continued in high spirits, "To put it bluntly, the only person in the world who could save her life is me."

"Now—you should know what to do, Owen!"

"Oh--"

The booming sound in his ears made Irving turn around and glance at it.

But I only glanced at it.

Turning his head, he used his wand to cast a spell and cut a wound in Hermione's palm.

She didn't feel any pain.

I just feel a numbness in my palms.

Then a warm, magical energy rushed in, and as soon as the energy was present, a part of her body reacted quickly.

It felt magical, like raindrops falling on a leaf, leaving a faint mark, and then rainwater from all directions flowing down along that mark.

Slowly, her consciousness returned.

Body temperature is also dropping rapidly.

Hermione had only recently been infected, unlike the group of people lying in the hospital who had been depleted for a long time and would need a long period of rest even after treatment.

As tiny, purple, bubble-like wisps of magic flowed from the wound on her palm and dripped onto the ground, a pink flower bloomed directly from it.

It thrives, sprouting tender, bright yellow stamens, with an elegant shape, beautiful flower posture, and soft, smooth skin.

It then spread rapidly in all directions at an unstoppable speed.

In just a moment, the flowers had taken over the entire basement.

From the altar on the ground, to the surrounding stone pillars, walls, and even the ceiling.

Pink flowers bloomed everywhere.

It's like being in a sea of ​​flowers.

"Be more careful." The wound on the girl's palm had already healed without leaving a trace.

"This is—" Hermione was holding a delicate flower in her hand.

This flower looked very familiar to her.

Isn't that the pink flower that Merlin transformed from the pale purple sea off the coast of Arish by reversing its appearance?

Could it be that I was just "infected" by an ominous sign?

Thinking of this, she couldn't help but feel a chill.

I have personally witnessed those strange omens.

Each one had a hideous face, covered in fleshy growths and hard horns. Once transformed, it would be difficult to tell whether they were male or female before. If I were to become one of those monsters, I would rather die immediately.

With that thought in mind, Hermione quickly reached out and touched her cheeks and neck. Then she examined every part of her skin that was visible to the naked eye.

"Alright, it's smooth and shiny, white with a hint of pink." Owen helped her up.

Hermione was still worried. Even though she knew she was alright, she couldn't help but keep an eye on her body.

Seeing this, Irving stopped paying attention to her.

He casually kicked the four troublemakers nearby, those wizards, flying one by one.

He then turned his attention back to the high priest.

Priestess Lavieu had actually been keeping an eye on Irving's situation all along.

Although Barker's offensive was very swift.

The basement was almost completely destroyed by it.

However, this place was clearly blessed with magic; otherwise, a normal room would have collapsed by now.

However, Priestess Lavieu still managed to spare some of her attention. When she saw Owen extract the mutated magic from Hermione's body and transform it into flowers, she was so shocked that she couldn't speak.

All he could do was stare intently at that figure.

it's over--

She knew it very well in her heart.

When her scheme failed, it meant that she had no chance of negotiating with Owen anymore.

What follows will be a life-or-death struggle.

Damn it~~~

Damn it!!!

Why did I covet the body of that girl in the eye of the storm? This shouldn't have happened. She had hundreds, even thousands of years to live.

Now—but here it all comes to an end.

Lavieu knew very well that if she fell into the hands of the Federation, she could not think of any other possibility but death. Moreover, if the Federation seized the information about the gods in her mind, even after death, her soul might be tormented by the gods and spend eternity in hell.

Rather than that

A ruthless glint flashed in her eyes.

If she could take the heir in front of her with her to die.

She will surely be rewarded by the gods for killing the stumbling block they have created.

Perhaps the praise would be more tempting than her being alive.

Priestess Lavieu's fingers traced lightly across the air, and wisps of invisible power gathered with her movement.

"Heh—is this your last gamble?" Owen looked at her and made a sarcastic remark.

"This is the last stand," Priestess Lavieu said angrily, her face turning calm as if victory was already assured once again.

"Irving—you forced me into this. Look—God has been itching to drag you to hell for a long time."

Having said that, the runes in front of her were reconstructed once more, and the evil statue at the top of the staff suddenly spat out more than a dozen souls.

Before they could even reveal the full form of their souls, they were instantly crushed into clumps of silvery, viscous substance.

These substances, like streams flowing into the sea, seeped into the body of the priest Lavieu.

She suddenly opened her mouth—and countless yellow flames surged forth.

Flames swirled around her.

Like a tornado.

Gradually, she was lifted up by the flames and began to float.

"The heavens are the glory of God, and the sky is the work of God's hand."

The sound of frantically chanting prayers echoed in the basement.

An invisible force permeated everything around it.

The walls were gradually consumed by the flames originating from Lavieu, like grains of sand.

"From the heavens above the earth, and into eternity, therein lies the glory of my God."

As the prayer was recited, the flames grew even larger.

It was churning, like lava rolling.

Terrifying storms repeatedly swept towards Irving.

Faced with such flames, the only thing that could withstand it, besides "All Curses End," was his force field magic.

Considering that there were only two wizards on their side, the effect of the Curse Stop was not obvious.

Therefore, Irving immediately chanted the spell: "Sanchez Field".

A rose.

People have always mistaken the dazzling blue light of magic for a rose.

Actually, it wasn't a rose, nor did it resemble any other flower.

In fact, after space suddenly expands, the average kinetic energy of particles in the air, such as photons and electrons, increases, exhibiting something similar to 'background radiation'.

Because of the brilliant light produced by its friction with the air, it is projected backward in layers, looking very much like a blooming flower.

This time—unsurprisingly. The extended space was like a black hole, with all the flames brushing past the 'edge' of the space.

It had no impact on him or those he was trying to protect.

"Click—"

It is the expansion displacement of the structure caused by the flame heating the room.

Little by little, the basement could no longer withstand such devastation.

Like a piece of wood suddenly cracking in a raging fire.

The entire house collapsed and broke apart in the explosion.

The soil above also cracked open.

Flames burst forth boldly through the cracks in the ground.

"Merlin's beard."

"What happened? A volcanic eruption?"

"Idiot, where did the volcano in Cairo come from? Someone set a fire underground."

outside world.

The young wizards in the courtyard fled in panic, and the earth cracked and collapsed.

The terrifying fissure in the ground pulled everything down.

Looking down, it seemed like a void in hell.

"Ah~~~"

Someone slipped and fell into the hole, letting out a hysterical scream.

And this was not the only scream.

The incident happened suddenly, and because it was a ground collapse, many young wizards couldn't even draw their wands for a long time.

Expecting them to perform magic without a staff is utter nonsense.

And just as they were being burned to death.

A huge pink flower bloomed at their feet.

Then the flowers carried them away, quickly flying out of the hole.

Such scenes are constantly unfolding.

At this moment, the young wizards finally noticed the man with long, silver-pink hair who remained calm and composed during the disaster.

Petals were scattered around him.

These petals, like duckweed, fell into the underground cavities, scooping up the unfortunate souls who had stumbled.

"Wow—are they getting really into it?"

The Archmage Merlin put down a glass of juice, smiled slightly, and gently tapped the ground with his withered wooden wand.

The next second, land, broken bricks and tiles, and surrounding houses all began to be thrown outwards.

It seems he's clearing out this area to make room for Irving's battle formation.

Soon a volcano appeared before the eyes of many young wizards.

The scalding lava churned and churned little by little.

Every now and then, columns of fire dozens of feet high would shoot out.

It looks extremely exaggerated.

Beneath the lava, Irving struggled to withstand the curse.

Force field magic also has its limits.

Too much material is being thrown at him from the outside world.

Moreover, the main issue is the flames—the high temperature and pressure of the flames cause a significant increase in the density of the surrounding space, which greatly increases the difficulty of his magic casting.

Instability has already emerged.

He had encountered fire attacks before, but those were not continuous; they were more like spells, repeated impacts rather than the continuous, uninterrupted attacks of this time.

"God!"

Amidst the raging fire and storm, the agonizing screams were heart-wrenching.

The fire intensified again.

It changed from bright yellow to black and white.

The figure in the firestorm, her body also began to crack, as if pieces of parched earth were being peeled away.

As her blood gushed out wildly, a huge, blurry phantom simultaneously emerged.

"My end is here, my destiny is here, my life is here."

With the only thing left, I can follow in his footsteps.

"God, I entrust this body to you—"

Having said that, High Priestess Lavieu's aura reached its peak, and even a fool would know that she was about to unleash a powerful attack.

"Granger!" Owen turned to look at Hermione.

He took a briefcase from his pocket.

"Why are you still bringing them along?"

Irving didn't even notice until he turned around.

Miss Granger's transfiguration chains were binding four wizards—weren't those the ones he had just kicked away?

Then, right under his nose, Hermione melted the chains, turning them into a hideous suit of armor that trapped the men inside.

"There must be other rats that haven't been played out yet. The information in their heads is very important and can save many people." Hermione waved her wand and threw the wizards, who seemed to be imprisoned in the Iron Maiden, into the briefcase.

"You're really cruel," Owen replied.

"They just wanted to be burned alive, but you wanted to gouge their brains out."

"."

"Stop rolling your eyes, you should hide inside too, I'm going to tighten my defenses."

Hearing the sound, Hermione squinted at the white figure hiding in the inside pocket of Owen's coat before jumping into the suitcase.

Then, the boy waved his hand to summon the suitcase, cast a shrinking spell on it, and stuffed it into his pocket.

"Honestly, even cats don't believe me," Owen remarked.

He then gripped the staff tightly with both hands, rapidly reducing the area affected by the force field.

Then, without hesitation, they began to approach Lavieu step by step in the firestorm.

Before his eyes.

A bright, illusory image appeared above her.

It was dozens of feet tall, blocking out the sky, and dressed in a magnificent robe inlaid with various gems that resembled a galaxy.

With silver hair and emerald green eyes that showed neither sorrow nor joy, she seemed to have seen through all the famous things in the world.

The pale skin glowed faintly, indicating that the body was composed of light particles.

"cut!"

I don't know where the sound came from.

The phantom that was almost identical to Irving suddenly gathered countless black flames.

A longsword emerged from the flames and swung down at Owen.

"Bakal!"

With his powerful aura, he had no way to defend himself.

Striking that flaming sword—it could very well kill him with a single blow.

Upon hearing the sound, Bakal, who was perched right above Irving's head, appeared.

A reddish light shone from his body.

Irving's hair stood on end.

Lightning gathered on the dragon's claws.

The rolling red thunder seemed like the heavens were in fury.

Then the lightning transformed into a long blade, colliding head-on with the sword formed from the black flames.

Two powerful forces collided in mid-air, producing a deafening roar.

A powerful shockwave spread out from the point of impact, causing the surrounding flames to buzz.

In this fierce clash, the lightning longsword and the black flame sword corroded each other, as if trying to devour one another.

The scene was astonishing—but in the end, the high and mighty gods prevailed.

However—with Bakal's weakening effect, the remaining black flames had no chance of breaking through Owen's force field magic.

"That's it, continue."

Irving's lips curled into a smile; this was the result he wanted.

Next, the black sword transformed into a merciless sword-wielding machine, repeatedly unleashing flames at him as if his death was inevitable.

Bakal, on the other hand, repeatedly used his Thunder to counteract and neutralize it.

That scene was like something out of a myth.

Black fire, red lightning, and azure protective spells, with shimmering light particles stretching backward.

Black, red, and blue intertwine, creating a magnificent robe that billows towards the horizon.

"Oh my God!"

"By Merlin!"

Outside the cave, the young Egyptian wizards watching from afar unconsciously exclaimed in amazement.

They had never seen such a breathtaking scene.

In the young wizards' limited understanding, magic should be mysterious and powerful, but the magical power before them was beyond their imagination.

Perhaps only the legendary greatest white wizard, Dumbledore, could unleash magic of this level!

Compared to the young wizards' amazement...

The shock and disbelief that Irving brought to Laviejo was even more intense.

"Why—" she roared ferociously, "Why aren't you dead yet!"

Then two more swords swung down.

But this had no effect whatsoever.

Irving was extremely close to her.

She could even see the slight smile on the child's lips.

Always so confident of victory, without any setbacks.

"You—" Lavieu was frightened.

She was afraid she wouldn't be able to kill Irving.

Even more frightening was the thought that if his soul returned to the divine realm, he would be severely punished.

Just as she was gripped by fear, a sudden shout startled her remaining consciousness.

"Look me in the eye, you little brat!"

The sudden, startling sound made her instinctively look at Owen.

"Whom are you fighting, priest!"

Lavieu's only remaining head looked puzzled.

She looked up, following Owen's gaze, and saw the illusory figures surrounding her.

It was as if a bomb had been detonated in my mind.

Or perhaps, one's heart was pierced by a spear.

Because in her eyes, the illusory deity looked exactly like the child in front of her, both in appearance and figure.

"This..." Her mind went blank, unable to think anymore. "How could this be?"

"My God?"

opportunity!

Irving's eyes lit up.

This was the opportunity he needed.

The surrounding flames paused briefly as Lavieu lost his focus.

This is the consequence of lacking combat experience.

At this critical moment, Owen immediately withdrew the force field magic.

With a wave of the wand, azure shooting stars swirl at the tip.

next second.

"Soul Torrent!"

The streaking meteor hurtled straight toward the suspended staff.

"Bang!!! Crack!!!"

Countless cracks covered the staff, and before Lavie could react, the continuing meteor pierced through her remaining head.

I went out with someone last night, drinking with them despite my still-not-fully-healed cold.

I woke up at noon today and felt that my cold was gone after sweating – damn, that was the only good thing about yesterday.

(End of this chapter)