Charles was furious.Even though he knew the Killing Curse posed little real danger to him, being on the receiving end of one was still infuriating.
If these pure-bloods wanted to kill him, then he had absolutely no qualms about slaughtering them all in return.He wasn't the type to smile and turn the other cheek after someone had metaphorically dumped filth on his head.
He stepped forward slowly. The Destruction Wand in his hand pulsed with a sinister aura that resonated with the evil essence of the Galarian Moltres he had once absorbed. A dark mist surged around him, cloaking his entire body in shadows.
In an instant, a wave of soul-deep terror washed over the gathered wizards.
Avery swallowed hard as he stared at Charles. For a fleeting moment, he couldn't tell which side was supposed to be the villains here.
Damn it! We're the Death Eaters—why does he look more evil than us?!
"Are you ready to meet death?"
Charles smiled pleasantly, bending at the waist in an elegant duelist's bow.Just like Voldemort once told Harry—manners are everything.
Ah, that dear Voldemort—truly a role model for etiquette.
Charles stood completely unguarded, yet none of the fifty-some wizards before him dared to strike. They just watched, frozen, as he bowed.Perhaps it was fear that bound them still.
Regardless, Charles found himself disappointed. These pure-bloods liked to boast of their nobility, but clearly they had no grasp of grace or decorum. Utterly uncivilized!
"It seems your master's training left much to be desired," Charles said lightly. "But that's all right—you can go to hell first and wait for him. When he gets there, he can teach you properly."
He raised his left hand with an almost lazy motion.
The tip of the Destruction Wand gleamed—then traced a line through the air.
Shh—
The beam sliced across a wizard's throat. Blood spurted out in a red arc, his severed head tumbling away with a dull thud.
The hot blood that sprayed into the air froze mid-flight, turning into crimson shards of ice that pelted the faces of nearby wizards.
It all happened too fast.Only when the headless body fell heavily into the snow did Avery and the others finally react.
They collectively stumbled back half a step, eyes wide with horror—as if they'd just looked into the face of a demon.
Fortunately for their side, not everyone lost their nerve.
Avery's expression twisted. "Attack! Kill him!" he roared.
So what if one wizard died? They had more than fifty men here—half of them mercenaries, hired with gold.The dead were expendable.In fact, some of the freelance dark wizards were secretly pleased—fewer survivors meant a bigger share of the loot.
At Avery's shout, the forest erupted. Dozens of wands rose at once, firing curses in every color—green flashes of death and streaks of crimson fury illuminating the snowy pines.
Charles's innate resistance to magic was high, but even he couldn't take that many spells head-on. He lifted his wand with a flick—several boulders tore free from the frozen ground, rising to shield him.
Look closely, and you'd notice fossil imprints along the rock surfaces—Ancient Power!
Under his command, the stones shot forward, colliding with incoming curses in midair. Then, Charles snapped his right hand, launching a dark violet sphere that spun like a miniature black hole.
Shadow Ball!The attack shot forth so fast it stretched into an oval in flight, slamming into a wizard's chest and blasting him backward like a cannon shell.
"Incendio!"
Charles twisted his body, dodging a sneak attack as if eyes had grown on his back.He hadn't learned Mind's Eye or Foresight, but with his Extrasensory Charm, his perception was razor sharp.
He avoided the spell with a half-step pivot and countered immediately—his foot slammed down, propelling him forward like a launched projectile.
His right fist clenched, energy swirling into a vortex—then he drove a Dynamic Punch into a wizard's chest.Ribs shattered. The chest caved in.
"Diffindo!""Avada Kedavra!""Crucio!"
Curses screamed through the air.Dozens of spells converged on him—but Charles moved faster.
His figure blurred into a streak of white light, weaving between the curses like lightning. The spells tore through empty space, unable to touch even the hem of his robe.
"You're too slow."
His form vanished—then reappeared behind a pure-blood wizard.
"Rosier!" Avery shouted, eyes widening in terror.
Rosier sensed death closing in and began to turn—but his gaze suddenly tilted skyward as his world spun.
His head hit the snow before his body did.
"You killed Rosier!" Avery's voice cracked into a hysterical scream."You actually killed Rosier!"
Perhaps because he held the so-called "sacred" title of one of the Twenty-Eight Pure-Blood Families, Avery couldn't accept such brutal disrespect.
Charles didn't bother replying. He simply lifted his wand.
Several arcs of black, energy-laced wind slashed through the air—Black Air Slash, aimed straight for Avery's head.
"Protego Maxima!"
Avery barely managed to cast the advanced shield charm.
It didn't matter.Cracks spread across the barrier instantly.
The slashes struck the same point repeatedly—until the Shield Charm shattered with a crystalline crack!
Avery ducked just in time, but one blade sheared off his ear.
He barely had time to feel relief before Charles was already upon him.
Shh—!
Dark energy swirled around Charles's right hand, coalescing into clawed fingers.
Shadow Claw.
It plunged straight through Avery's chest.
Charles yanked his hand free and flung the man aside like a piece of trash.
To his mild surprise, Avery didn't die instantly. Wizards were far sturdier than ordinary humans.
Within moments, Charles had killed several people—each with terrifying efficiency. Heads severed. Chests crushed. The snow stained red.
Even Voldemort himself would probably hand him a cigarette and say, "You might be taking this a bit far."
Such ruthlessness broke what little morale remained.Even the survivors who weren't directly struck trembled with fear.
Avery, somehow still conscious, gasped raggedly, his lung punctured, fighting for air. A healing spell and a potion later, he managed to cling to life, though his face had turned ghostly pale.
He wheezed desperately, the icy air slicing his throat like a blade—but he was alive.
Around him, the remaining wizards wavered.Their opponent was far too terrifying.
In sheer magical power, perhaps Charles didn't yet rival Voldemort—but in ferocity and decisiveness?He was every bit the Dark Lord's equal.
The Daily Prophet had once joked that he might become the next Dark Lord.Maybe, just maybe, they'd been right.
Still, Avery refused to give up.They'd already come this far—if they stopped now, would Charles really spare them?
Of course not.
There was only one choice left—to fight to the death.
After all, there were still plenty of them left.With enough Killing Curses flying, surely one would hit its mark!
Just one hit—that's all it would take for victory!
"Everyone—use the Killing Curse! Block his escape!" Avery roared through the pain, hurling another streak of green light.
"Use the Killing Curse!" others echoed.
In an instant, the entire forest was dyed an eerie shade of green.
The fatal light interwove through the trees, converging upon Charles—
BOOM!
(End of Chapter)