Sauron, upon sensing the Nazgûl and his fell servants gathering beneath the slopes of Mount Doom, and realizing that the Ring-bearer was nowhere to be found, having most likely already entered the volcano, finally lost all reason.
The One Ring was inseparable from his existence. Once it was destroyed, he would be annihilated completely.
Driven into madness, Sauron no longer cared about the cost. To escape his predicament, he was willing to suffer grievous damage to his essence, forcing his way through the Golden Light Barrier by sheer destruction.
His body expanded violently. Cracks spread across his dark physical form, radiating an aura of absolute annihilation. In the next instant, like a volcano erupting from within, terrifying dark power exploded outward. His condensed body collapsed, dissolving into a raging inferno of ruin.
At the same time, the molten magma long suppressed beneath the earth was forcibly drawn upward by his power, erupting through massive fissures in the ground. The land was torn apart. Mountains shook, the earth split, and vast regions were reduced to scorched wasteland.
The shockwaves reached Hogsmeade. Entire districts were flattened.Fortunately, more than ten thousand wizards joined forces to erect emergency barriers and evacuation spells, preventing total annihilation.
Even so, countless lives were lost.
Hogwarts Castle endured. Ancient runes carved into every stone flared with light as the castle's defensive wards activated in full. Though the structure held, students and professors inside felt the world quake violently, as if the castle itself might collapse at any moment.
At the center of the battlefield, within a radius of a thousand meters, the ground was obliterated by Sauron's self-destructive eruption. A crater a thousand meters deep was gouged into the earth, rapidly filling with molten lava and transforming the land into a sea of crimson fire.
The Golden Light Shield shattered. Its bond with the earth was severed.
Sylas was struck head-on. His face drained of all color, his body swayed, and his spirit nearly collapsed. Gandalf, Elrond, Galadriel, and Glorfindel all turned pale.
Had they not, at the final moment, poured every ounce of their power into containing the blast, restricting its range to a thousand meters, Hogwarts itself would have been erased.
Even so, the surrounding lands for hundreds of miles were reduced to lifeless ruin.
Sauron was finally free.
But freedom came at a price.
Having only just regained a physical body, he lost it once more. His power was severely diminished, leaving behind only a twisted, spectral form wreathed in flame and shadow.
The phantom glared with boundless hatred at those who had stripped him of his form. Then, like a blazing meteor, he fled toward Mordor.
As long as he could reach Mount Doom, as long as the Ring still existed…
He could recover.
"Dream on."
Ignoring his own catastrophic injuries, Sylas transformed once more, his body exploding into a colossal mass of black smoke. Like a storm cloud blotting out the sky, he pursued Sauron relentlessly.
In his Obscurus form, pushed beyond all limits, Sylas even employed illusionary teleportation.
The black cloud flashed through the heavens, teleporting repeatedly, rapidly closing the distance. It expanded violently, forming a sky-shrouding mass, opening a colossal maw and engulfing Sauron's phantom form.
Boom
A cataclysmic clash erupted in the sky.
Black smoke and hellfire collided endlessly. The smoke devoured flame.
The flame burned away smoke.
Yet Sauron's power, even in his ruined state, was overwhelming.
After half a day of battle, Sylas's once-vast Obscurus form, originally spanning a thousand meters, was reduced to a mere wisp barely a meter tall.
Unable to sustain it any longer, Sylas reverted to human form and fell helplessly toward the earth.
Sauron lunged to finish him.
But the heavens split.
A massive bolt of lightning slammed down, halting Sauron mid-charge.
The Thunderbird descended like living thunder, catching Sylas upon its back. Sylas lay motionless, his face pale as death, blood seeping from the corners of his mouth. Black, curse-like fissures crawled across his body, relentlessly corroding flesh and spirit.
This was the gravest injury he had suffered in his life.
Only the Obscurus' regenerative nature had kept him alive.
And it had been worth it.
He had delayed Sauron.
Gandalf, Elrond, Galadriel, and Glorfindel arrived in that moment, surrounding Sauron once more and cutting off his escape to Mordor.
Sylas consumed a potion of immortality, its immense life force flooding his shattered body. Flesh regenerated, strength returned, and he forced himself back into battle.
—
Mount Doom.
Near the edge of the crater, Frodo and Sam emerged from a fissure in the volcanic rock.
Frodo staggered forward, deathly pale, his face flushed unnaturally from the heat. His lips were cracked, his eyes unfocused.
Clutching his chest, he whispered hoarsely:
"I must…"
A sudden wave of panic surged through Frodo's mind.
The mission… was already complete.
No, that thought alone nearly shattered him.
At the same time, the personal space within the spatial bag containing the One Ring, as if sensing imminent danger, began to react violently. A terrifying mental pressure erupted from within, accompanied by a powerful, irresistible pull.
The Ring was struggling.
That invisible pressure pressed down on Frodo like a mountain. Each step became unbearably heavy, as though his body were sinking into molten rock. The incessant whispers and temptation gnawed at his consciousness, relentlessly eroding his already fragile mental defenses.
His exhaustion spread from the soul outward, draining his body of all strength.
In the endless lava tunnel, under the crushing pressure and scorching heat, Frodo finally realized...
He could no longer endure.
Seizing the last moment in which his mind remained clear, Frodo pulled the spatial bag from his side and pressed it into Sam's hands.
"Sam… don't worry about me," he said hoarsely. "You have to go on. You must finish it… destroy it… in my place."
Sam's eyes widened in horror.
He didn't hesitate.
Instead of taking the bag and leaving, Sam hoisted Frodo onto his back without a word and continued forward with all his strength, step by agonizing step, crawling through the lava tunnel.
"I'm not leaving you," Sam said firmly. "Not now. Not ever."
By sheer will, and perhaps a miracle, the two finally reached the end of the lava tunnel and emerged at the apocalyptic crater.
The fresh air, thin and scorching as it was, allowed Frodo to regain a sliver of strength.
They were close now.
Very close.
Ahead lay their destination, the Rift of Doom, the place where Sauron had once forged the One Ring. A natural river of lava flowed toward the rift, glowing like a burning scar carved into the world.
Because of the crater's location, the temperature here was unbearable. The ground beneath their bare feet radiated searing heat, forcing them to grit their teeth with every step. Thick smoke, volcanic ash, and shattered rock spewed continuously from the volcano's mouth, shrouding everything in a choking haze. From time to time, debris rained down from above.
Perhaps because of these conditions, there were no dark creatures patrolling nearby.
Even so, Frodo and Sam did not relax their guard.
They once again pulled their invisibility cloaks tightly around themselves and moved forward with extreme caution.
At last, the Rift of Doom came into full view.
It was a colossa crack in the heart of the volcano, a vast, jagged chasm splitting the earth apart, from which flames roared upward and waves of blistering heat poured forth without end.
...
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