*BOOM*
Arcturus Black's forces continued their assault on Nurmengard Castle, unleashing a storm of spells that crashed against the fortress's shields in a dazzling display of power, the entire sky was lit up with a mixture of colours as spells splashed against the shield. Wizards and witches from the combined French and British ranks stood along the treeline, their wands slashing through the air as they channeled every ounce of power they possessed, sending bolts of red, green, and gold streaking across the dawn sky like a barrage of enchanted fireworks.
The shields rippled and flared with each impact, absorbing the curses and hexes, but the attackers showed no signs of slowing, their faces set in grim determination as they poured forth spell after spell, Bombarda blasts that exploded against the barrier in showers of sparks. From the front lines, Claude Beaumont raised his voice above the sound of the battle—though with how loud it was it was quite difficult—his wand thrusting forward as he fired a chain of Confringo spells that detonated like thunderclaps against the shield. "Do not let up, my friends!" he shouted, his words carrying over the roar of magic, his breath visible in the freezing Alpine air. "This is for France, for our families, for every soul Grindelwald has taken! Keep firing until the shields crack or our wands shatter in our hands!"
His call was echoed by Jean Lecoust, who stood beside him, his own wand a blur as he unleashed a volley of curses that hammered the barrier like battering rams. "FOR MONSIEUR DELACOUR!" Jean bellowed, sweat beading on his brow despite the cold. "We stop now, and everything we've fought for is losT!"
Further back, Arcturus Black observed the onslaught with a calm wxpresion, his cane planted firmly in the frost-covered earth, while Bellatrix paced beside him, her wand sparking with unrestrained magic. "Come on, you lot, hit them harder!" Bellatrix snarled, her voice cutting like a whip as she fired a vicious spell that sliced across the shield in a streak of dark red light, leaving faint cracks that healed almost immediately. "If you falter now, Harry's blood is on your hands, and if that happens ILL KILL YOU MYSELF!"
Andromeda stood nearby acting as support for Bella, empowering her spells with her own . "Be careful Bella, you need to balance your spells properly," she called out, her wand weaving an Incendio variant that sent black flames towards Bella who had been using a Ventus, the result was a massive flaming Vortex that swallowed up a large section of the shield. "Bella stay calm please, you'll wear yourself out if you keep going so hard!" Andromeda said almost pleadingly to her sister.
High atop the castle's battlements, Gellert Grindelwald watched the spectacle unfold, his silver hair whipping in the wind as he leaned against the stone parapet, his expression a mix of amusement and mild curiosity. Flanking him were Macduff, who gripped the wall with white-knuckled hands, his face flushed with battle lust, Lyra who stood by his side and Zabini, who stood a step back, her dark robes billowing as she scanned the horizon with narrowed eyes.
The shields below them absorbed the barrage of magic, flaring brightly with each spell that struck, but Grindelwald's gaze remained fixed on the distant treeline, where he could just make out the figure of Arcturus Black standing among the attackers, staring back at him with a cold expression.
Zabini shifted her weight and leaned closer to Grindelwald. "My lord, this attack feels wrong, it is too bold, too reckless for what's left of the French resistance. They must know our shields won't break under simple spellfire. What do they hope to achieve by throwing themselves at us like this? It reeks of a diversion, something to pull our eyes away while they strike elsewhere." She looked back towards the attacking forces, anger mixed with worry etched onto her face.
Macduff snorted as he pounded a fist against the stone. "Who cares what they're hoping for? Let me go out there my lord, I'll finish them off myself! This is the last gasp of the French resistance, the dregs of their so-called army. Once I carve through them, France is ours for the taking, and the rest of those pathetic countries will fall like dominoes behind it. Give the word, and I'll end this farce!" His eyes gleamed with anticipation, his body coiled like a spring, ready to leap into the fray.
Grindelwald remained silent for a moment, his gaze still locked on Arcturus across the distance, as if measuring the man's resolve. Then, without turning, he raised a hand. "Hold for now. The shields won't be broken by this rabble, let them exhaust themselves against our defenses. Once they've spent their strength, we'll mop them up at our leisure. There's no need to rush into their trap."
Zabini and Macduff exchanged glances, Zabini's face tightening with unease while Macduff's twisted in frustration, but both bowed their heads in unison. "Yes, my lord," they said together, Though, it was clear neither of them were satisfied.
Grindelwald lingered at the parapet, his eyes once again fixed on Arcturus Black, Grindelwald raised a hand for Lyra to step forward. "Come here, Lyra," he said. She obeyed without hesitation, and joined him at the edge, her eyes fixed on the shield where fire and light broke against it in vain. Grindelwald rested his hand on the stone, fingers brushing over runes carved by himself and his old friend. "This is the truth of war," he said, his mismatched eyes reflecting the bursts of color from below. "Look at them, throwing their strength against walls that will not break, hoping to force us into error or weakness. They think heart alone can win them victory, yet heart without power is nothing."
A thunderous blast shook the valley, the shield flaring bright before settling again, and Lyra stood steady at his side.
"War is power, perception and patience," Grindelwald went on. "Macduff would rush down and bleed with them, but true generals wait, they watch, and they let the enemy show their hand. These wards were laid with blood magic and bound tighter by me. Every curse they hurl is consumed by the shield and leaves them weaker for it. All they accomplish is their own undoing."
Lyra narrowed her eyes as another volley of fire scattered into smoke. "What if their purpose is not to break through, my lord?" she asked. "What if this is only a distraction, meant to draw us out while they strike elsewhere?"
Grindelwald's faint smile did not fade. "It most likely is," he said evenly. "They have almost certainly sent someone inside, and their target will be the wardstone. If they bring it down, the castle's protections fail."
Lyra's brow tightened and she turned quickly toward him, the concern plain in her voice. "Then we should search the halls at once—"
Zabini came forward as well, her usually calm tone touched with unease. "If the stone falls, the castle cannot hold. My lord, if they find it—"
"They will not," Grindelwald said, cutting him off. His gloved hand reached into his robes, and when he drew it back the smooth black stone gleamed in his palm, etched with faint lines of magicc that pulsed like veins of light. "It is here, with me. They may scour every wall and chamber, but they will never find what it."
Relief crossed Lyra's face though her wand hand did not lower, and Zabini bowed his head in silent acknowledgment. Macduff, leaning on his spear at the far end of the battlement, barked a laugh that cut through the wind. "Fools," he spat. "Let them crawl like rats through the castle. When the rest of their friends are dead I'll find them."
Grindelwald allowed the stone to vanish back beneath his cloak and returned his gaze to the valley. "Patience, Lyra," he said at last. "Let them exhaust themselves. When the time comes, we will strike but not as a soldier but as a commander, and you will understand that power is not found in fury, but in control."
Lyra's posture straightened, her eyes bright with admiration. "Yes, my lord. We will wait, and we will turn their attack into our trap."
Grindelwald regarded her with rare pride. "Exactly. When your time comes to lead, remember this lesson. Now go, you will defend the inner sanctum that is your duty for now." He dismissed her with a nod and turned back to the valley, where the shield still stood unbroken and the enemy's fire faded into the morning air.
...
Arcturus Black stood at the edge of the treeline, his cane rooted in the frozen earth as his robes stirred in the biting wind. He did not flinch in the cold, nor when spells of lighting or fire rushed past his head... No... his eyes fixed on the distant battlements where Grindelwald stood looking right back at him. This meeting between them was bound to happen eventually, Arcturus was never the man to let things go and Grindelwald had committed a most grievous crime against him. Whether he survived this or not Grindelwald would die, he had to, he would not be able to face his family in the next life if he failed.
He was interrupted from his thoughts when James Hawkthorne came to his side, a look of concern etched into his face. The boy hesitated for a moment, watching the unbroken shield, before stepping closer. "Lord Black, why keep me out of the assault? I can help a lot more than some of the others can."
Arcturus turned to face him . "You are an A Class wizard James, and within years you may rise to S Class if you survive. Your strength must be reserved. Once the shield breaks, the Acolytes will come, and they are killers who would cut down lesser wizards in moments. It will fall to you and Bellatrix to meet them. I will not waste you on what is only a mere distraction."
James took in the words, he felt a bit better that he would be doing something important, yet a question remained. "And you, my lord? Where will you go when the shield falls?"
Arcturus's lips curved in a faint unreadable smile. "I will be where I must be... facing Grindelwald. My task is to hold him, to draw his focus, and to buy our people the opening they need to cut his forces down."
James faltered, doubt stirring as he thought of Grindelwald's name, a name that had bent continents to fear. Could Arcturus stand against such force? The thought was plain enough on his face that Arcturus answered it without being asked. "I am not his equal in raw power," he said, his eyes narrowing with quiet conviction. "But power is not the only weapon."
James nodded though the doubt lingered, and his eyes moved to Bellatrix. She stood not far away, hurling curse after curse with unbroken ferocity, her face a mask of rage. "What about her, Lord Black? If she burns her magic now, what strength will remain when the shield breaks?"
Arcturus's faint smile returned, laced with dry amusement. "If you think to stop Bellatrix, you may try. But I would advise against it. Her temper is fire itself, and she will not welcome your counsel while her godson is held captive. Best to leave her be."
James imagined it and shook his head with a short laugh. "I'll keep my distance."
The assault dragged on, minutes stretching thin as fatigue crept into the ranks. Andromeda stepped forward, concern evident on her face. "Grandfather, it has been too long. Neville should have done it by now. If we wait much longer we won't have any fight to give when we get past the wards."
Elise Fournier joined her, having the same concerns. "She is right, Lord Black. How much longer can they hold? If Neville has failed, we should pull back before Grindelwald strikes back."
Arcturus did not move. His gaze stayed fixed on the battlements, where Grindelwald's followers stood waiting. "Neville will succeed. We need only endure a little longer. When he strikes, the shield will fall, and the path will open." The certainty in his tone settled the fear around him. The wind howled, the ground shook with spellfire, but Arcturus remained steadfast in his belief.
Neville would come through.
_____________________________________
Neville walked through the courtyard of Nurmengard Castle, where the faint echoes of spells crashing against the outer shield reverberated like distant thunder. The old man had come through with the distraction, allowing him to get past the courtyard that had once been full of people. He could see the sparks of multicolored magic illuminating the sky from where he stood, an impressive display that drew every eye outward. But Neville did not admire it for long. He had a job to do. He burst across the courtyard in less than a second, his enhanced speed carrying him like a blur through the empty space.
His new strength was amazing, a revelation that thrilled him to his core. Removing that last dredge of disgusting magic within him had transformed him into something new, something better. He had been strong before, but this kind of strength he had never felt. He sensed he could crush anyone who got in his path. And this sword felt like it was made for him, its weight balanced perfectly in his grip, a weapon designed to cut spells in half... it was perfect.
Neville was having a very good day.
He entered the inner sanctum, which was pretty empty as most of the wizards had rushed to the walls, but he could still hear a few lingering footsteps echoing through the stone corridors. A smile stretched across his face. Neville burst forward, kicking off the wall as he turned the corner and launching himself straight toward one of them. He did not even draw his sword. He just held his arm out and clotheslined the man, a loud crack emanating through the hallway as the wizard's neck snapped in half.
Neville laughed before continuing, throwing his sword in an arc that spun through the air and impaled another guard through the stomach, hurling him back against the wall. He approached the fallen body and drew the blade out with a downward slash, blood spraying across the stone. It was just so easy; these wizards could not even react to him.
"Avada Kedavra!" A shout echoed out through the hallway.
Neville leaned backward, dodging the sickly green spell as it shot past him. He had heard the person trying to sneak up on him, of course. And even if he had not heard him, he could definitely smell him. "Tut tut tut," Neville said as he looked at the wizard. "You wasted your only shot on such a boring spell." Neville took his sword out and lunged toward him.
"No, no, no, wait, wait, wait," the wizard tried to say, but it was too late. Neville smashed him in half at the waist before kicking both sides apart, exploding the corridor in blood.
Neville chuckled as he looked back at the carnage. He considered having some more fun but realized he would have to get going if he was going to find the ward stone. He pressed onward, navigating the twisting corridors with ease, his heightened senses guiding him toward the upper level where Grindelwald's office was located. The castle's architecture was a labyrinth, but Neville moved through it easily at his speed.
He reached the grand doors to Grindelwald's office, their surface carved with intricate runes that pulsed faintly with protective magic. Neville pressed against the wall, listening for any signs of movement inside. Hearing nothing immediate, he tested the door, finding it unlocked. Neville chuckled at the arrogance of this 'Dark Lord' to leave his personal study open. He pushed it open slowly, the hinges creaking softly, and slipped inside.
The office was a huge room with a wide window overlooked the mountains, and a massive desk dominated the center. But Neville's eyes locked onto the figure standing near the desk—a young woman with raven-black hair cascading in curls, her violet eyes alert as she turned toward him, her wand already drawn. 'Why didn't I hear her?' Neville thought to himself.
Lyra Black stood there, her stance shifting for combat, surprise flickering across her face for only a moment before it hardened into anger. "Who are you?" she demanded, her wand tip glowing with magic. "How did you get in here?"
Neville stared at Lyra Black, his sword held loosely in one hand. He stepped forward, loving the way she flinched at him moving. "I'm the man who's going to kill you if you don't answer my questions," he replied.
Lyra threw her head back and laughed, echoing off the stone walls and annoying Neville to no end. "Man? You look more like a boy to me."
Neville growled deep in his throat, his muscles coiling as he traced the path in his mind, planning to blitz her in a blur of speed that no wizard could match. He exploded forward, his boots leaving cracks in the floor, but before he even moved Lyra's wand was already up, her lips forming the incantation for a spell aimed precisely where he would be in the next instant.
"Confringo!" she shouted, and a blast of explosive force erupted at the spot Neville's trajectory would have carried him, the shockwave slamming into his chest mid-leap and hurling him backward into the wall with a thunderous crash that shattered stone and sent dust cascading from the ceiling.
Neville slid down the cracked wall, pain flaring through his back, but he pushed himself up with a snarl, his enhanced body already numbing the damage. He lunged again, faster this time, but Lyra anticipated his every move, firing a spell that exploded the floor beneath his feet and forced him to twist mid-air, crashing into a bookshelf that toppled in a cascade of ancient volumes. He rolled to his feet, frustration boiling over as he demanded through gritted teeth. "How are you doing that? You shouldn't even be able to see me move."
Lyra smirked, her violet eyes gleaming with disdain as she leveled her wand at him once more. "Such a disgusting mongrel isn't a match for me. I am the student of the greatest Dark Lord that there has ever been... you're an unnatural dog with no magic."
Neville's face went cold, all traces of amusement vanishing as he stood to his full height, gripping his sword with both hands and holding it up. Lyra's expression shifted to panic as her innate technique, Epitaph, granted her a glimpse three seconds into the future, revealing the brutal path Neville was about to carve through her defenses.
She fired a barrage of spells in rapid succession, bolts of curses, transfigurations, and the most powerful spells she could do, all streaking toward him like vengeful serpents, each one aimed to bind, stun, or blast him apart. Neville charged, his sword swinging in incredibly fast arcs that sliced through the spells as if they were mere illusions, the anti-magic steel unraveling their magical structure and causing them to dissipate into harmless sparks. He reached the large conference table in the room's center, flipped it with a single hand, and kicked the massive oak slab hurtling toward her like a battering ram.
"Reducto!" Lyra cried, blasting the table into a shower of splintered wood and dust that filled the air like a storm.
She began to raise a shield charm, her wand tracing the incantation for Protego, but Neville was already behind the exploding debris, his speed defying perception as he closed the distance in an instant and sliced her wand clean in half with a downward stroke. She gasped, stumbling back, but he spun on his heel and drove his boot into her stomach with crushing force, launching her across the room to slam into the wall with a bone-jarring impact that cracked the stone and left her gasping for breath.
Before she could slide to the floor, Neville's hand shot out, grabbing her by the throat and pinning her against the wall, his fingers squeezing just enough to make her choke, her feet dangling inches above the ground. "Look at the dirty mongrel who has you by the throat," he snarled. "Who is about to choke the life out of you."
Lyra choked, her hands clawing at his iron grip, her nails raking his skin as she struggled to draw breath, her legs kicking futilely against his hold. Neville eased his grip slightly, allowing her to gasp for air, his expression shifting from rage to calm as he leaned in closer. "Where does Grindelwald keep the ward stone? Tell me now."
Lyra spat in his face, her saliva landing on his cheek, and rasped through gritted teeth. "Go to hell, mongrel."
Neville's fist drove into her ribs with a sharp crack, breaking one and drawing a pained gasp from her lips. "Wrong answer. Where is the ward stone?"
She wheezed, refusing to speak, her eyes defiant despite the pain. He punched again, another rib snapping under the force, her body jerking in his grip as she bit back a scream. "Tell me, or I'll keep going until there's nothing left to break."
Lyra finally laughed, the sound manic and ragged, her voice echoing with madness as she glared at him through watering eyes. "Grindelwald has the ward stone. You'll never get it. He'll crush you like a bug."
"We'll see about that," Neville said coldly, tightening his hold once more before hoisting her over his shoulder and leaping toward the office's wide window.
He smashed through the glass, using her body to shield himself from the shards even though his enhanced durability made it unnecessary, the fragments raining down as they plummeted toward the courtyard below. Neville landed with a thunderous impact that cracked the flagstones, absorbing the fall effortlessly while Lyra gasped in pain from the jolt, her ribs protesting sharply.
He stood in the outer courtyard, where Grindelwald's remaining forces were gathered, and shouted at the top of his lungs, his voice booming across the stone expanse. "Grindelwald!" Neville did not know why he was doing this; ordinarily, he would have written the mission off as a bust and fled, but with the confidence and pride his newfound strength had given him, he found himself standing before the Dark Lord, holding his prized student hostage by the throat.
A sharp crack echoed through the courtyard as Grindelwald apparated from the castle walls, appearing in a swirl of dark robes, his heterochromatic eyes fixed on Neville with mild curiosity. "I am Grindelwald," he said. "May I ask who you are?"
"I am no one who matters," Neville replied, his sword pressed firmly against Lyra's neck, drawing a thin line of blood. "Just a mongrel to a wizard like you."
"Very well," Grindelwald said casually, as if discussing the weather. "If I'm correct, you must be the one the people outside sent to destroy the ward stone. I expected this, though I didn't expect Arcturus to find someone with a Heavenly Restriction. What a crafty old fox."
Neville nodded, his grip tightening on Lyra's throat as she struggled weakly. "Give me the ward stone, and you get to keep your little pet. If you don't, then I'll cut her bloody head off before you can even blink."
Grindelwald reached into his robes and produced a glowing stone slab, its surface etched with intricate runes. "Is this what you wanted?" he asked, holding it up for Neville to see.
"Throw it over," Neville demanded, his sword pressing harder against Lyra's skin.
Grindelwald turned his gaze to Lyra. "Don't worry. It will be okay. Trust me." He tossed the ward stone into the air toward Neville, but in the same motion, he brought his wand up.
"Dont do it, I'll kill her," Neville warned, pressing the sword deeper into Lyra's neck, drawing more blood as she gasped.
Grindelwald did not flinch or hesitate, his expression unchanging as he uttered six simple words.
"Domain Expansion: Cycle of Burning Rebirth."
(AN: I haven't updated this one in a while but I'm close to finishing this arc. This is the final battle so i figure why not finish it. Even if it's not particularly popular 🥲. Anyway hope you enjoyed.)
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