chsdbacks Chapter 430, page 429: Was Ian tricked?
Chapter 430, page 429: Was Ian tricked?
Chapter 430, page 429: Was Ian tricked?
The nature of this battle is subtly changing under Ian's conscious guidance.
What began as a simple magical confrontation gradually evolved into a difficult dialogue with three corrupted, tormented, and transformed "Hearts of the Earth."
"Purifying Rain!"
Ian used a combination of polymorph and summoning spells to create a gentle area of quicksand around the Sandstorm Ancient, attempting to make it feel the "flow" and "inclusiveness" that the sand sea should have, rather than its current "rage" and "plunder". At the same time, he summoned a drizzle containing a faint life magic.
It was sprayed onto the core of the sandstorm.
This rain is not for extinguishing fires, but rather symbolizes the occasional downpour that descends upon the desert, bringing life and attempting to awaken the spirit of nature buried deep within.
That desire for "nourishment" rather than "destruction".
The effect is not bad.
While it wasn't exceptionally effective, it wasn't entirely ineffective either.
The Sandstorm Ancient Spirit's movements became noticeably sluggish and chaotic again; the skeletal phantom even trembled slightly, as if two consciousnesses were fiercely struggling within it. Its howls were no longer pure rage, but mixed with pain, confusion, and even a trace of barely perceptible emotion.
It's as if it's a longing for that "rain"?
On the other side, the swamp worm's dark breath became even thicker and darker, its color turning as black as ink, and the forbidden power of the soul contained within it almost materialized.
The dark forces formed countless pitch-black, barbed magical tentacles, which once again coiled around Ian from all directions, aiming not only to corrode the legendary wizard's body!
We must drag his soul into that endless abyss of pain!
"The Light of the Soul!"
Instantly, Ian created layers of invisible barriers around himself, slowing the tentacles' approach. At the same time, the tip of his wand erupted with a blinding white light, like a miniature sun!
This light is not simply illumination, but a "purifying light" infused with Ian's pure magic and unwavering will, representing his unique understanding of the magic of shimmering light.
That is a reflection of the wizard's mind.
Ian prides himself on being upright and honest.
His inner light would naturally be affected, possessing a natural restraint against darkness and impure energy! This is the power of a wizard's power of thought!
"one-!"
The moment the dark tentacles came into contact with the intense white light, they melted away as quickly as ice and snow meeting the blazing sun, emitting a piercing sound and releasing an even stronger stench.
It had already experienced something similar before.
They still haven't learned their lesson.
Perhaps this also suggests that this ancient spirit has lost much of its original wisdom.
The swamp worm let out a roar of excruciating pain, a mixture of anger and discomfort. Under the white light, its translucent body faintly revealed the twisted, writhing souls within it!
"The perfect opportunity is now!" Ian seized the chance, his mental energy focusing once more, piercing the swamp worm's energy core with surgical precision!
His consciousness sank into an endless swamp. At first, he felt the softness of the mud, the slow flow of the water, and the "rhythm of the swamp" that nurtured countless microorganisms as they decomposed withered branches and fallen leaves, providing nutrients for new life in a continuous cycle.
This is a balancing force within the wetland ecosystem, carrying a fishy smell yet brimming with vitality.
It is the power of the true spirit of nature.
But the next moment, a terrifying scene unfolded! Countless devoured and tormented souls surged up from the bottom of the swamp like boiling bubbles, their pain, resentment, and despair polluting the entire swamp!
Even more terrifying, a cold and forceful external force, like a giant water pump, forcibly drained the gentle power in the swamp that represented "purification" and "rebirth"!
then!
It was as if an invisible hand had poured in more and thicker darkness and pain, and shaped this twisted mixture into the terrifying weapon that now only knows how to "devour" and "forbid"!
"So—your pain comes not only from those you devour, but also from the deprivation and distortion of your own 'purification' ability—"
Ian understood immediately, a hint of pity in his eyes. He knew this was definitely not the work of the African Ministry of Magic. It wasn't that he believed the African officials had high moral standards, but rather that he knew this kind of power and means was beyond the capabilities of ordinary wizards.
Ministry of Magic.
A group of ordinary wizards, numbering in the hundreds or even just a few, are at best an organization of elite wizards; they don't yet have the resources to possess such wizards.
"unless-·
Of course, it's not 100% impossible, but the thought only flashed through Ian's mind briefly before being temporarily replaced by other ideas.
After all, now is not the time for reflection, but rather the time to gather specific information about this group of "ancient spirits." Ian's super intelligence still needs to cool down for a while.
After realizing that he was facing uncontrollable spirits of nature.
Ian didn't have any murderous intent.
He changed his strategy.
Faced with the renewed onslaught of dark breath and tentacles.
"Defilement be banished, holy protection prevails!"
This is an advanced version of the protective magic we just saw.
A soft barrier, a blend of milky-white purifying power and silver protective light, appeared before him. This barrier wasn't indestructible, but it possessed a quality that "rejected darkness" and "soothed pain." Dark breath and tentacles struck the barrier; although they continued to corrode and impact, their speed was noticeably reduced.
Moreover, in the mournful cries of those tormented faces as they came into contact with the light of hope, there seemed to be an extremely faint trace of...
It seemed to find a moment of peace with its whimper. Under the continuous illumination of the white light and purifying power, the swamp worm's enormous body writhed restlessly, and its corrosive mucus secretion seemed to have slowed down somewhat.
For the first time, the momentum of that frenzied attack showed a hint of weakness and hesitation?
now.
The most astonishing transformation was that of the black mud spirit.
Perhaps stimulated by the awakening aura behind the door, or perhaps because Ian's previous attempt at "lullaby" had the opposite effect, it was no longer content with merely spreading and creating illusions.
At the center of the boiling sludge, a huge, ever-changing abscess suddenly swelled up, and countless bloodshot eyes appeared on the surface of the abscess!
All those eyes were fixed on Ian!
A mental shock far exceeding anything before, like a tangible tsunami, mixed with the deepest and most primal fear, crashed fiercely into Ian's soul core!
This is no longer a simple illusion or interference.
It's a direct mental annihilation attack!
Ian even felt his thoughts freeze for a moment, and the sense of reality around him began to peel away, as if he were about to fall into an eternal abyss of madness!
"Heh, slightly stronger than before, but not by much." Ian's mental defenses have always been excellent. He pushed his Occlumency to its limit, while firmly fixing several "anchor points" representing his strongest beliefs and fondest memories deep within his soul, like lighthouses in a storm.
Hold fast to the last vestige of clarity in your consciousness.
Let him be strong, the breeze still caresses the hill; Ian suffered no real harm. Meanwhile, his wand trembled slightly from the excessive magic infused into it.
Ian abandoned all the fancy techniques.
"Calm down." He condensed his understanding of "order," "stability," and "truth" into a simple and pure beam of magic.
The light pierced the countless crazed eyes on the abscess like a sharp sword!
"The truth has been revealed!"
This is not a spell to make people tell the truth.
Instead, Ian gave it a new meaning—to forcibly dispel falsehood and madness, revealing the most essential, undistorted "truth" of things!
"puff!"
Like the sound of a balloon being punctured, the countless mad eyes on the abscess contracted and burst violently the moment they came into contact with the beam of "Real Manifestation," as if pricked by needles, oozing out a viscous black liquid! The black sludge spirit emitted its most mournful and ear-piercing shriek to date, like countless pieces of glass rubbing together!
Ian's mental power also took this opportunity to forcefully break through the thickest layer of mental pollution and penetrate deep into its core!
It was a bizarre and fragmented world. There was no up, down, left, or right, no concept of time or space, only countless flowing colors, distorted shapes, and a constant chorus of whispers and screams like background noise.
This is the primal realm of "dreams" and "subconsciousness" that every living being possesses, a chaotic place that should be full of infinite possibilities and reflect the true nature of the heart.
Here, Ian caught a faint trace of "spirituality," like a candle flickering in the wind. This spirituality should be the "dream spirit," freely traversing the dreams of all beings, weaving bizarre stories, and guiding the flow of the subconscious. It is neither good nor evil in itself, but simply a part of the natural order.
But now, this wisp of spirituality has been forcibly stuffed with too many, too heavy fragments of negativity—the nightmares of countless people, their deepest fears, their repressed madness, and—a cold will filled with the meaning of "control" and "surveillance"! This will forcibly glues these negative fragments together.
It distorted the free nature of the spirit of dreams, turning it into a terrifying tool that constantly produces fear, spreads madness, and warps reality!
"Your madness stems from the loss of your right to 'weave freely,' turning you into a manipulated puppet." Ian felt the painful struggle of that spirituality under the pressure of countless negative fragments and cold will, and a strong sense of unease welled up in his heart, not only for the plight of the ancient spirit.
Furthermore, I am speechless at the mastermind's desecration of nature's creation.
He no longer tried to dispel the madness with bright light, but instead transformed his spiritual power into an extremely gentle and steady...
A wave of tranquility and serenity, like a mother's lullaby, slowly seeped into the boiling core of the silt—this time, he encountered no fierce resistance.
The spirituality of the "dream spirit," which had been squeezed to the point of near suffocation, seemed to grasp at a straw and began to instinctively draw upon the "tranquility" conveyed by Ian.
The boiling sludge slowed its spread significantly, and the terrifying illusions that shifted on its surface began to blur and slow down. Finally, the countless frantically spinning eyes slowly closed, and the entire massive sludge body, like a deflated balloon, slowly slumped down. Although it still exuded an ominous aura, its aggressiveness was greatly reduced, as if it had fallen into an unstable slumber.
"Sleep, sleep."
Ian let out a long sigh of relief.
The continuous high-intensity mental confrontation and precise magical control were a huge drain even for him. He looked at the three ancient spirits that had been temporarily calmed down.
His eyes were incredibly complex.
In this fierce battle, he almost used the limits of Hogwarts magic, combined with his understanding of the rules and creative application, to barely manage to avoid exposing himself in the fight against these three severely distorted nature spirits, and even glimpse the deeply buried cruel truth.
They are not monsters; they are fragments of the soul of this land that have been torn apart and defiled.
And the root of all this seemed to point to the "big shot" gradually awakening behind that giant door? Ian adjusted his breathing, his gaze turning solemnly back to the door. The reliefs on the door writhed even more violently, and the muffled tremors grew closer, as if something was about to appear.
They are about to break down the door and escape.
He could clearly sense an extremely powerful, yet extremely twisted, will behind the door. However, this was not what Ian cared about most.
"interesting."
Ian's lips curled up.
Ian had noticed something unusual earlier. What intrigued him most was the coincidence of the door's location.
It appeared on the road he was destined to take to find Newt.
Yes, what a coincidence it must have been for this giant door, which sealed the mastermind behind it all, to stand precisely on the path he had to take to reach the cell where Newt Scamander was imprisoned?
This is no coincidence.
There are no coincidences in the wizarding world.
The underground prison of the African Ministry of Magic is complex, like a maze, but according to the Marauder's Map and his previous perceptions, there seems to be only one path leading to the lowest level, "The Silent Chamber." Therefore, this door is like a deliberately set obstacle, a barrier he cannot bypass no matter what.
No matter which way Ian goes, if he goes to find Newt, he will inevitably run into him. This also includes the three Ancient Spirits that Ian has now suppressed.
That is, the spirit of nature in ancient times.
"Did someone know I was coming?" This thought, like a cold, venomous snake, crept into Ian's mind. Who was it? The mysterious blind prisoner? Or some hidden entity within the Ministry of Magic? Or perhaps—the thing behind the door itself possessed some kind of precognitive or guiding ability?
He recalled the blind man's warning, his tone calm yet precise in pointing out the danger below and the difference between the "guards" and the man below. Now, he wondered if that warning, while containing an element of not wanting to be disturbed, also contained a hint of—guidance? Guiding him to notice the unusual situation?
It's no wonder that Ian is a conspiracy theorist.
The main reason is that the coincidences in the Luo family's affairs do indeed reveal some strangeness, to the point that Ian couldn't help but wonder if the intelligence merchant giving him the key to the Luo family's door was also some kind of arrangement.
Of course, this doesn't mean that intelligence brokers were also involved in some kind of scheme against Ian Lo, but rather that intelligence brokers sometimes might be aware that Lo is being used by certain people.
"If that's really the case, then the Ministry of Magic here isn't as simple as I thought." Ian looked at the constantly shifting and writhing runes on the door.
My heart was filled with mixed emotions.
There was vigilance, there was tension, but there was nothing to be ashamed of. On the contrary, there was more of an anticipation for the unknown crisis. No legendary wizard would be afraid of challenges.