The purple-red dragon flame with its destructive heat roared past once again, leaving a distorted trace in the air; the pouring rain was instantly evaporated into a rolling white vapor.
Ares's figure, like a kite with a broken string, was violently smashed into the brick wall of a distant abandoned factory by this frenzied energy impact, causing a dull loud noise, with rubble and dust mixed with steam blocking the view, temporarily burying his embarrassed figure.
"…Roar!"
Norbert let out a deafening roar to the sky, its massive dragon wings flapping in the air, stirring up strong air currents that blew away the pervasive steam and smoke.
William stood beneath it, his gaze pierced through the bricks and locked onto that figure—this guy is much more resilient than he imagined.
However, with him assisting Norbert, the opponent couldn't cause any major trouble. William didn't call Dumbledore for help, firstly because his own strength was adequate, secondly because Dumbledore was still carrying injuries, not yet healed from the soul artifact curse—and most importantly, he needed Dumbledore to help cover up the disturbances coming from here, otherwise…
They might have already started a nationwide broadcast of the battle scene happening right now.
Looking at the motionless pile of bricks on the ground, William had no intention of pursuing the victory. He simply played with the Slytherin Pendant Box he had just retrieved in his hand, feeling the eerie aura lingering on it, while scrutinizing with his eyes the gradually dispersing smoke.
"Fourth time, well done."
William's tone was light, as if praising his pet for learning to bring toilet paper, throwing prepared jerky into Norbert's mouth—this kind of battle had to continue.
Initially, William's judgment coincided with Grindelwald's explanation—the so-called gods were nothing more than a group of ancient wizards who used magic to create an air of mystery.
But now, he had to admit, the wheels of history roll on, and those "gods" indeed possessed methods that made Muggles worship them in awe back then.
After all, normal wizards… no, normal carbon-based life forms shouldn't be able to withstand Norbert's flames.
Including William himself.
This was not simply something that powerful wizards could achieve; these people had secrets—
William couldn't help but become interested in the source of these people's power.
Finally, amidst the shattered bricks, a golden light suddenly exploded, pulverizing the surrounding broken bricks. Ares stood up once again. At this moment, the red copper armor on him had obvious dents and scorch marks, bright gold blood trickling down his temple, mixed with muddy water, dripping down his sharply cut jaw.
The red copper spear in his hand buzzed incessantly, its tip glinting with dangerous cold light.
Those molten gold eyes were fixed on Norbert, who was hovering above William's head, with an inferno of rage and humiliation burning deep within his pupils. Being repeatedly knocked down by a captive "beast" was an unprecedented humiliation in his long life!!
"Roar——"
Norbert sensed the intense hostility and killing intent, but it continued to defiantly let out a challenging roar; the purple-red flames gathered and compressed deep in its throat, temperature sharply rising, though it did not spew out immediately but rather stared intensely at the golden figure on the ground, emitting a threatening growl from its throat.
Ares was obviously thoroughly enraged, no longer attempting to attack William directly, but decided to unleash all his anger on that damned Black Dragon!
He raised the spear high, pointing it at the densely clouded sky, uttering a series of ancient obscure syllables that echoed like heavy stone hammers striking the ground.
Of course, William didn't understand a bit.
But, it seemed something else understood Ares's call, as several piercing horse howls sounded from behind him—
Subsequently, came a succession of dull hoofbeats. Four skeletal tall horses pulled a scarlet chariot from the horizon, galloping forth with incredible speed, reaching Ares before a reaction could take place—the latter immediately flipped onto the chariot, grabbing the reins, with the spear upright in hand, the thing seemingly extending even longer than before.
Can't let Norbert take it head-on—even if he had confidence in Norbert's enhanced defensive capabilities, caution was still preferred to avoid unexpected setbacks—William quickly made up his mind.
He likewise flipped onto the dragon, next, heavy armor began to materialize around him, nearly in the blink of an eye, William put on the steel helmet overhead, raising his right hand, lightning coalesced, the Redwood Wand emitted a near-breaking buzz—
The next moment, the chariot and dragon knight passed each other.
Result… seemingly unscathed?
No—clearly impossible, Norbert's neck bore a huge wound with blood oozing red and purple, yet the depth of the damage didn't touch the core; aside from feeling a chill on the neck, Norbert didn't even react to what happened, the injury was promptly restored by William's domineering repairing charm.
Evidently, the War God's spear didn't carry any bizarre curses.
William's lightning didn't have such insidious qualities either—or rather, it wasn't necessary, for at the instant of contact, the four horses pulling Ares's chariot, ostensibly his four sons, directly turned to charcoal, crispy on the outside, tender within, even the air was permeated with a roasted ribs fragrance.
Ares's condition wasn't much better; having gulped two bottles of Thunderbrew Potion, William's condensed thunder had almost liquefied, and the once gleaming golden, seemingly dignified War God had turned into a scorched black mass at this moment, if not for the fact that he was still standing on the chariot, William would've struggled to tell apart his bottom from his head.
However, the old thing was indeed hard to kill; just turning around on the dragon, that guy surprisingly started moving again.
William thought this fighter with battle on his brain was about to charge up again, Norbert was even ready for defense, but the piece of "charcoal" merely shook off the burnt armor and covering clothing, entering a completely unadorned "shocking" state.
"As expected of the heir."
Finally, this "god" who since debut had been nothing but shouting finally uttered his first line.
"…Are you talking about me?"
William felt he had probably concluded the main battle segment, entering the obligatory post-battle talk segment.
"That fraud didn't exaggerate…"
Ares didn't answer William's question; instead, he glanced at Helbo still lying on the ground not far away, his tone relatively calm, "Your strength is indeed formidable."