The forest fell silent once more.
Dozens of Killing Curses collided midair, exploding in a blinding cascade of emerald light.But this time, there was no beast left to shield that Mudblood from the blast.
Avery grinned, craning his neck eagerly to witness the boy's death. Yet when the smoke and snowflakes finally cleared, all he saw was scorched earth—no trace of a body. Nothing at all.
Had that Mudblood been blasted to dust?
But… wasn't the Killing Curse meant to destroy the soul, not the body?Avery frowned, puzzled. He glanced around—the left, the right, even behind him—but found no trace of Charles Gold. No flicker of magic from Apparition, no distortion from a Portkey.
If he wasn't utterly annihilated, then where could that Mudblood possibly have gone?
The Death Eaters began to exchange smiles of relief.
That brat's power had been far too terrifying. Even Fenrir, who'd initially scoffed at Charles, now shuddered at the thought of his ruthless precision—ripping out hearts without hesitation, face calm as ever.
And that water-scythe technique that could cleave off a head without warning—who wouldn't fear that?
Of course, a wizard decapitated in battle wasn't necessarily doomed; with quick use of Essence of Dittany, one could still reattach the head if done swiftly.Some who practiced Apparition too recklessly even experienced… splitting off their own heads.
But the reaction time was impossibly short. In combat that fierce, no one would get the chance to save a fallen comrade.
Fortunately, the Mudblood was finally dead.The Killing Curse was the great equalizer—no one, not even that boy, could survive it—
"Cough... cough."
The soft sound shattered Avery's thoughts.
His head snapped upward—and his eyes went wide.A shadow floated in midair. Clad in black, in the exact same attire as the Mudblood.
"Hahaha! So he really did die! Is that his soul refusing to rest?" Avery laughed aloud—but the sound faltered and died almost immediately.
What the hell do you mean, soul?!
The Killing Curse destroyed souls. Those struck by it could never leave ghosts behind!
Then what—what was that thing floating there? He wasn't on a broom, nor held aloft by any known spell. Only Voldemort himself had mastered flight unaided by magical tools…
Yet the aura surrounding this spell was entirely different from the Dark Lord's.
"Why aren't you laughing anymore?" Charles's voice drifted down.Suspended in the air, wreathed in faint light, he looked down on them with a playful smirk. Watching them celebrate like fools was almost amusing.
A Killing Curse was nothing to him—there were plenty of ways to avoid it.
"I must say," he drawled, "your smile is just as sickly as your master's. Maybe you should take lessons from him in your next life."
His tone sharpened. "Because I'm done playing."
The warmth in his gaze vanished—ice-cold now, edged with killing intent. There were too many of them; killing them one by one would take all night.
"Let's test my new spell, shall we?"
He took a step forward—onto thin air.And beneath his feet, the air itself ignited, bursting into dark red flame.
Charles walked through the blaze like a god born of fire.Every graceful turn of his body stirred the flames into spirals, swirling faster and faster until they surged outward like a raging black tide.In moments, they grew uncontrollably, descending from the heavens like a curtain of infernal fire.
"Infernal Abyss!"
This was the fusion of Moltres's corrupted flame and Fiendfyre—a spell of Charles's own creation.It carried the consuming might of Fiendfyre, but also the soul-burning malice of that dark avian power.
Black and crimson intertwined, the flames flowing like molten rivers from hell itself.
"AHHH—!"
A wizard caught on the edge of the inferno screamed as the fire struck his arm. Within seconds, flesh and bone disintegrated into ash. The flame slithered like a serpent into his body, devouring his organs from within until nothing remained but white dust.
"Protego!" another shouted in panic, conjuring a Shield Charm.
But the infernal blaze surged forward, devouring him whole.
"RUN!"
Panic spread faster than the fire.The Death Eaters broke formation, tripping over one another in their frantic scramble to flee.
Avery didn't hesitate either—he spun in place, attempting to Apparate away.
But his body twisted, glitched—and snapped back.He flickered like a broken hologram, disoriented, trembling.
The air was no longer cold, yet his whole body felt frozen.
"Anti-Disapparition Jinx!" someone screamed, voice cracking. "He's trapped us here!"
Despair spread like wildfire as they realized escape was impossible. The inferno expanded far quicker than their legs could carry them.
That wild, uncontrollable growth was Fiendfyre's signature. Even a weak wizard could unleash it—but only the powerful could control it.
Charles, of course, had no intention of stopping it.
"Running will only lead to death!" Avery bellowed hoarsely. "Counter it—NOW!"
He slammed his wand into the ground, shouting, "Finite Incantatem!"
A dozen wizards followed suit, plunging their wands into the frozen soil.
"Finite Incantatem!""Finite Incantatem!""Finite Incantatem!"
Golden light flared from their wands, weaving together into a shimmering wall. The dispelling magic took shape—manifesting as another form of flame, clashing violently against Charles's.
Two titanic fire-dragons emerged, tearing at each other's throats amidst the explosion of heat.
Now it was power against power—raw, unrestrained magic.
Charles's Destruction Wand pulsed in resonance with Moltres's sacred fire.The Infernal Abyss swelled, expanding faster, stronger, brighter.
He unleashed his full magical power, and the hellish blaze surged upward like a tidal vortex, devouring everything in its path.
The black flames became a colossal maelstrom—a hungry void that swallowed the towering trees whole.
Even the counter-spell's fire-dragon was seized by a giant black phoenix, its throat torn apart in a screamless death.
The inferno roared like a beast unbound.It opened its burning maw, consuming every wizard in its reach. None even had time to scream before flames erupted from within their own bodies, burning them to nothing—body, mind, and soul alike.
Only ashes remained—pitiful, gray, drifting upward on hot currents of air…and falling softly, like a snow of the dead.
(End of Chapter)