A certain broken Hogwarts

Chapter 52 Black Demon Guard

Using malice to summon a guardian spirit... this is turning white magic into black magic!

Irving had never heard of such a method before; it seemed like a terrible idea someone had come up with on a whim. All he could think was, "Dark Lord, you really have an imagination..."

"Professor, there doesn't seem to be a precedent for using the Patronus Charm to summon someone with malicious intent," Owen said, raising his hand innocently. "Based on all the magical principles I know, such an attempt would only bring about a terrible backlash, resulting in either death or serious injury."

Voldemort did not refute, but instead nodded slightly in agreement: "If one simply changes to using malice, being backfired is almost inevitable."

"But, as I said, I've done a lot of research on this." He glanced at Owen indifferently and said in a light but dangerous tone, "I don't like repeating myself or being questioned by you with your shallow understanding, Owen."

"I understand, Professor," Owen said calmly, looking at the other person with a thirst for knowledge.

What else could he say? The Dark Lord had previously stated that this was a classroom test, and he had agreed. Now that he couldn't refuse, he could only accept it; Irving had always been able to adapt to any situation.

I never expected I'd have to get involved with dark magic so early. Luckily, it's just a simple lesson, so it won't have too much of an impact. However, if this dark magic is truly the reverse use of a Guardian Charm, and is an equally profound spell, Owen worries about what negative consequences it might cause, since he's just a beginner.

Although the Dark Lord claimed that the Patronus Charm was merely a basic spell, Owen dared not consider it basic. In fact, it was one of the most profound spells Owen had mastered. Well, the Disillusionment Charm could be considered another, but it didn't belong to the realm of black and white magic.

Voldemort's seemingly penetrating gaze may have sensed Owen's inner turmoil. He leisurely picked up a wand and examined it closely before raising the tip and tapping it to his left.

Without a sound, a humanoid shadowy figure shrouded in black mist emerged from the darkness, and an eerie and malevolent aura suddenly spread, turning the surrounding candlelight into a strange, sinister green.

It resembled a black robe floating in the air, with no limbs in its wide sleeves and hem, only thick black mist. Beneath the large hood, black mist also swirled, within which two eerie red lights shone, seemingly a pair of malevolent red eyes.

It's somewhat like a Dementor, but completely different; it's something that doesn't exist in this world.

With its arrival, Irving felt the small space instantly fill with a deep chill and malice.

The cold made him feel as if he had entered the dead of winter. The surrounding temperature didn't seem to have dropped; the chill emanated from the depths of his heart, threatening to freeze all his joy and hope. The malice seemed poised to devour him, and an extremely dangerous feeling set off alarm bells in Owen's mind. He wished he could raise his wand and cast a spell to blast it away.

With that kind of imposing presence and sense of threat... Owen would never believe that this thing was without offensive capabilities.

The black robe swirled lightly around Owen, its flowing sleeves seemingly brushing against his left arm unintentionally, causing him to lose all feeling on the left side of his body, while his right side trembled with cold. A sense of despair and pain welled up within him. Owen bit his tongue, barely managing to free himself from it.

The black robe had already floated to Voldemort's side, draped over him like a real robe, and then dissipated into black mist and disappeared without a trace.

"This is my guard," Voldemort said with interest, observing the seemingly frightened young wizard opposite him. "You can call him... the Dark Guardian."

"Professor, is it really okay for you to cast spells so casually?" Owen moved his stiff face, feigning surprise, and spoke as if he were concerned, while inwardly calculating the danger of this spell—very dangerous, without a doubt! Is this really just a reverse use of the Guardian Angel?

"I'm not as weak as you think," Voldemort said lazily. "I can still handle this little bit of magic."

"Now, using the same method, unleash the strongest malice of your life, whatever that malice may be." His pale fingers gently stroked the wand in his hand, but his eyes were fixed on Owen. "The hand gesture remains the same, and the incantation is 'Dark Guardian'."

Irving, channeling his malice to tear the man opposite him to pieces, deftly waved his wand and expressionlessly chanted, "Dark Guardian!"

There was no response; his attempt had completely failed.

With a perfunctory attitude, Owen waved his wand repeatedly, seemingly very seriously and diligently, until Voldemort's threatening words floated over:

"It's just a basic spell, like the Patronus Charm. If you don't finish it tonight, I'll have my guards play with you."

"You really have nothing better to do..." Irving smiled brightly at him, his attitude becoming serious.

Owen couldn't possibly let Voldemort use that Dark Guardian to deal with him. That thing looked like a powerful dark magic creation, and who knew if he would take the opportunity to do something to him!

He paused his chanting, his expression shifting between light and dark as he recalled the deepest malice he had ever harbored... that self he had buried deep within his heart.

That was a thing of the past, yet it remained vivid in his memory. Irving remembered it was on a day when he was twenty.

By then, he had already gained fame, but he felt increasingly empty inside. Until one day, during a journey in search of inspiration, he discovered a group of human traffickers and, with audacity, infiltrated their ranks.

That was the first time he had used his psychological skills, acting skills, professional knowledge, and design abilities to do something beyond magic performances. Driven by the evil he witnessed, he almost sent that group of people to their deaths!

For the first time, Owen truly understood the essence of magic as trickery. When he discovered he had dozens of ways to make his opponent die mysteriously and disguise it all as a simple accident, he became more excited than ever before. He could easily absolve himself of any blame and commit the perfect crime…

He was both incredibly excited and incredibly terrified. He knew that his mission wasn't merely to punish evil and promote good, but more importantly, to orchestrate a perfect conspiracy! He reveled in the thrill of manipulating people's hearts, controlling the entire situation, and leading others step by step towards destruction without their knowledge!

Fortunately, he did not let that desire run rampant; instead, he tricked all the criminals into walking into the police station and getting themselves into a trap.

From then on, he always strictly restrained himself with the magician's code and moral standards, restraining the malice in his heart, and living as a magician, not a con artist.

This is why Irving has always been wary of dark magic, because it could turn him into a ruthless monster! Even if that's simply his nature...

"Restraint, guidance..." Owen closed his eyes and sank into the emotions of that time. When he opened his eyes again, his once clear and gentle eyes were now filled with deep mockery and malice.

"Black Demon Guard!" he murmured.

(End of this chapter)