When Theodore activated the restriction carved into Hermes and treated him as a flying sword, a razor-edged aura burst from the owlery.
Sword qi rang like steel, spearing straight into the heavens.
Quirrell felt his blood run cold.
For a split second, it was as if an invisible, impossibly sharp blade had stopped right between his brows.
A suffocating sense of mortal danger surged up. Quirrell reacted almost purely on instinct, shouting:
"Protego!"
He forced the Shield Charm to its absolute limit—
And in that same instant, Hermes fully adapted to being controlled from afar, the Iron-Beaked Divine Eagle's first restriction roaring to life.
One mighty beat of his wings—
He shot out like a flying sword cleaving the night.
This strike was several times stronger than any of his previous pecks.
The Shield Charm that had easily blocked Hermes earlier was instantly pierced through.
Even the fresh Shield Charm Quirrell had just cast on top of it buckled on the brink of collapse.
At its closest point, the sword qi was barely an inch from his forehead.
If he'd reacted even a heartbeat slower, his skull would already be skewered—Hermes would've drilled straight through him and the thing riding on the back of his head together.
Feeling the sword qi that had nearly taken his life, Quirrell panted in ragged heaves, cold sweat pouring down his back.
"What… what is this?"
"What kind of owl is that?!"
He didn't have time to think.
That icy chill locked onto him again.
Panicking, Quirrell snapped his wand up and began spamming Shield Charms one after another, trying to buy himself even a sliver of time to counterattack.
But once the restriction was fully activated, Hermes's killing intent overlapped with Theodore's sword intent across the bond between them, and he truly became a flying sword drenched in bloodlust.
He turned into a streak of ink-black light, whirling through the owlery at blinding speed—
Far faster than Quirrell's eyes could track.
All Quirrell could see were jagged shadows of sword qi flashing again and again, hammering his shields from every angle.
Break. Break. Break.
The way of the sword was to break all laws with a single strike.
And Theodore's sword dao borrowed the strengths of both Jin Zha and Mu Zha—his sword talent had already reached the level of transcendent.
Against that, the Shield Charms Quirrell flung up in panic were nothing more than layers of wet paper, shredded at a terrifying pace.
If not for the distance between the dormitory and the owlery, if Theodore had been there in person to guide the "flying sword"—
Quirrell's head would have been rolling on the floor already.
At this rate, he was being crushed so hard he couldn't even lift his wand to strike back. Being killed was only a matter of time.
A storm of panic raged in Quirrell's chest.
Losing to Theodore Ashbourne, he'd always told himself, could be explained. That was in class—he couldn't really use high-level spells or any of the darker magic.
But now?
Theodore Ashbourne's owl had him pinned to the edge of death?
What in Merlin's name is wrong with Hogwarts' first-years this year?!
If this went on, he was really going to die here.
Gritting his teeth, Quirrell's eyes twisted with savagery.
He deliberately cast a crooked Shield Charm, letting it flare at an angle.
Hermes's next piercing strike ripped it apart and slammed into his shoulder instead of his skull, punching a bloody hole through Quirrell's left side.
Quirrell screamed.
He'd sold the opening and taken Hermes's strike for one reason, and one reason only—
"Fiendfyre!"
At that hoarse, vicious incantation, all of Quirrell's resentment, rage, and killing intent surged up from the depths of his warped soul and turned into fuel.
The stronger the negative emotion, the more terrifying the Fiendfyre.
With his already twisted heart, and the sheer, boiling hatred he was feeling now, the Fiendfyre he summoned couldn't match Gellert Grindelwald's city-destroying inferno—
But it was more than enough to swallow the entire owlery in a sea of black flame.
In the blink of an eye, the top of the tower turned into a roaring hellscape of living fire.
Then, with a desperate backward leap, Quirrell dove out of the inferno's edge and fled, clutching his bleeding shoulder, spite gleaming in his eyes.
"I don't care what you are—owl, monster, or magic weapon."
"As long as you're still alive, you're not fireproof. And this is Fiendfyre!"
"Burn. Burn as much as you like. Let's see where you run this time. I don't care if every owl in Hogwarts turns to ash—tonight you are dying!"
Meanwhile, at a far corner of the owlery, Argus Filch and Mrs. Norris had been cornered by the flames, shaking like leaves.
They had rushed in from the other side after hearing a commotion while making their nightly rounds.
They hadn't even had time to figure out what was happening before the black flames barreled through, sealing the exits and turning the place into a flaming cage.
"We're finished… we're done for…" Filch wheezed hoarsely. "We're all going to burn to death up here…"
Outside, the hellish blaze and the cats' and owls' screams tore through the night, jerking the entire castle awake.
Every student saw the tower-top haloed in a sickly black fire through their windows.
The younger witches and wizards scrambled in panic, some bursting into tears on the spot.
Their owls were in there.
Many tried to rush out of their dormitories—but the professors, who'd arrived at top speed, blocked them at once.
Their faces were as dark as storm clouds in midwinter.
They had immediately recognized what kind of fire this was.
"Fiendfyre," someone bit out. "That cursed, abominable Dark magic is burning inside Hogwarts…"
"First a troll… now Fiendfyre. What has slipped into this school?!"
But there was no time to chase those questions.
Right now, they had to keep the students together—because if even one hotheaded kid tried to charge into that blaze to save an owl, they'd be sending themselves to the grave.
A first-year's Aguamenti against Fiendfyre was like spitting at a volcano.
The students who owned owls were on the verge of collapse.
Harry's scar throbbed with jagged bolts of pain, again and again.
"Hedwig… Hermes… they're still in there!"
"I have to save them!"
His pupils slowly bled into a deep, eerie green.
In their depths, the Fiendfyre danced like it had found something that belonged to it.
His hand rose, involuntarily, as if the flames were calling to him—no, as if he could make them kneel with a thought.
He had the very distinct, very horrifying sense that if he wanted to… commanding these flames would be as easy as calling for a pet.
Then—
A warm, firm hand fell on his shoulder.
His scar, which had been screaming with pain, abruptly went quiet.
Harry turned his head, dazed.
Theodore's face came into focus in front of him, serious and sharp, his gaze locked on Harry's eyes.
"Harry. Calm down."
"That's Fiendfyre. It's a vicious Dark magic flame. It burns everything."
"It's evil—and wielding its power is even more evil."
"Even among Dark wizards, plenty have been devoured by their own Fiendfyre. The ones who can truly control it number very, very few. The two most famous are—"
"The last Dark Lord, Gellert Grindelwald, who Dumbledore defeated…"
"And the one who gave you that scar. Voldemort."
"You understand what I'm saying, right?"
Harry's face went chalk-white.
He suddenly had the chilling feeling that Theodore had seen straight through him.
"But Hedwig and Hermes are in there, Theo. I want to save them."
Theodore tightened his grip on Harry's shoulder.
"Leave it to me. Trust me, all right, Harry?"
"Trust your friends. I'll handle this. I promise you—not a single life is going to be lost in that fire."
"It's not time for you to take shortcuts yet."
Harry bit down hard on his lip, then nodded with all the strength he had.
The next second, Theodore swung a leg over his brand-new Nimbus Two Thousand, kicked off the stone ledge, and shot out of the common room window.
He rose into the air, the wind howling around him. His eyes locked onto the tower wreathed in black flames, his expression turning ice-cold.
[Duobao Daoist's avatar will not let this go. You've ruined his plans again and again, shaken his soul and forced him back in disgrace—how could he possibly swallow this?]
[This night, demonic flames engulf the Jade Void Palace. He wants this sacred immortal ground burned to cinders, the countless spirit cranes and immortal birds reduced to ash!]
[Host, the demonic fire Duobao is driving has terrifying power. Even a Golden Immortal would be burned to nothing if they stepped through it. Please, wait for the South Pole Immortal Elder and the other Golden Immortals to intervene!]
Theodore drew in a deep breath.
The storm around him surged higher, lightning flickering faintly through the clouds. Wind and thunder twined together as his broom soared up like a bolt of sky-splitting lightning—
Or a sword, crossing the distance in one straight, impossible thrust.
He plunged straight into the howling sea of black Fiendfyre at the top of the tower.
"I told you—no one dies tonight!"
The System's text hesitated for a heartbeat, then slowly rewrote itself.
[Faced with demonic flames, the host sings in his heart: "The wind is bleak, the Yi River cold; the warrior goes, never to return."]
[This calamity began because of you—so this karmic debt must also be settled by you.]
[The demonic fire towers to the sky, but it cannot drown out your true immortal heart. Where the Dao points, though ten thousand men stand in your way—still, you go.]
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