Ian always liked to throw out a few cool-sounding lines at critical moments.
"Behold my Divine Might!"
He condensed his understanding of Existence and Void, the ultimate pair of opposing concepts, at the tip of his wand.
This power was neither creation nor destruction. It was something closer to negation and erasure.
'How should one describe it?'
It was no longer merely magic.
'Who said the power of Paradox wasn't useful?'
The power of Paradox was incredibly useful.
At this moment, Ian was like Professor from Back to Field, discovering something unexpectedly wonderful.
The conclusion was simple: 'It really was amazing.'
Once again, he drew upon the might of Paradox. The light shining from his wand was not a blinding white radiance.
Instead, it was a color of absolute emptiness, as though it absorbed all colors around it, causing the surrounding light itself to dim.
Then a ripple spread outward.
A ripple so strange that even the Fallen God instinctively felt fear upon sensing it.
"Existence Elimination!"
Ian fired that thread-like ray of emptiness toward the Spear of Silent Death, which was still struggling through the temporal and spatial trap.
There was no earth-shattering explosion.
No dazzling collision of energies.
Not even the slightest sound.
The moment the ray struck the Dark Spear, an incredibly bizarre scene unfolded. It was as though the spear had never existed in the first place.
Starting from the tip, it disintegrated inch by inch.
Before it completely vanished.
There were no residual energy remained. No spatial ripples were produced.
It was like an art student who had failed the entrance examinations gently erasing a drawing from a canvas before moving on to another career.
The spear simply returned to the Void.
Not only did its matter and energy disappear,
The Law of Annihilation attached to it and the portion of divine consciousness the Fallen God had invested into it were forcibly erased from the level of existence itself.
"No! How can this be?! This isn't how it should be! A mere Legendary!" The Fallen God let out a shrill scream filled with agony and disbelief.
Its crimson eyes stared fixedly at the spot where the spear had disappeared, as if it simply could not comprehend what had just happened.
The Spear of Silent Death contained a portion of its already limited Origin Divine Power.
It was also the embodiment of its Authority of Annihilation. Its complete erasure was something the Fallen God had never anticipated.
Not only had its Divine Power been damaged,
Its understanding of its own Law suffered severe backlash.
"Y-You... what exactly are you?! How can you... how can you erase Divine Magic Laws?!"
The Fallen God had clearly realized that Ian was far more than an ordinary Legendary Wizard.
"You're the thing. Your whole family is a thing." Ian panted lightly.
Fine beads of sweat covered his forehead.
Continuously casting high-dimensional magic involving time and space, followed by the nearly forbidden Existence Elimination, had placed an enormous burden on both his mental strength and magic power.
A profound sense of exhaustion surged from the depths of his soul.
Of course, that didn't stop him from insulting his opponent right back.
Steadying himself, Ian's gaze remained as sharp and cold as ice.
"Divine Magic Laws? They're nothing more than fragments of the universe's rules."
"And you?"
"A pitiful creature that can't even control its own corruption and can only prolong its existence by devouring others."
"You dare call yourself a god?"
"The power you wield is nothing more than the stench released by decaying laws."
Yes. Ian had started giving philosophical lectures again.
After all, he was a Hogwarts wizard. He simply couldn't resist saying things like that.
"Shut up!"
Divine Power surged violently from the Fallen God. It crashed directly against Ian's magic power. Their battle deep beneath the earth had long surpassed the scope of ordinary magical combat.
This was a clash of rules themselves.
Every exchange generated waves of energy and law fluctuations, like enormous boulders thrown into a calm lake.
Ripple after ripple spread outward.
Reaching higher and higher toward the surface.
BOOOOM…!!!
This time, it was no longer a muffled rumble. It sounded as though endless stockpiles of explosives were detonating beneath everyone's feet.
The main structure of the African Ministry of Magic, reinforced by thick stone and powerful enchantments, emitted a groan of unbearable strain.
The tremors were no longer occasional. The entire building shook continuously, as though the vibrations would never end.
The magical lamps embedded in the walls flickered madly.
Light and darkness alternated rapidly, illuminating people's terrified and distorted faces like ghosts.
And it wasn't only the prisoners.
On the upper levels, everyone could feel it clearly.
Inside the Records Department, massive bookshelves toppled one after another. Archives and documents accumulated over centuries scattered through the air like snowflakes.
Meanwhile, in the center of the Great Hall, the grand crystal sculpture of Africa, a symbol of the Ministry's authority, carved from a single enormous piece of enchanted crystal,
After another violent tremor, a sharp crack echoed through the hall… A huge crack split straight through the center of the sculpture.
The sight was shocking.
Of course, it wasn't because the thing had turned out to be some cheap counterfeit.
In truth, its quality had nothing to do with the damage.
This was no longer merely a physical tremor. It was accompanied by chaotic magical turbulence powerful enough to suffocate.
The air was saturated with violent magical elements.
From time to time, multicolored arcs of energy could even be seen leaping across the walls and ceilings before exploding with sharp crackling sounds.
"What happened?!"
"Was that an earthquake?"
"It was an earthquake, right?!"
A terrifying pressure rooted in the instinctive fear of higher-order existences gripped the hearts of everyone inside the Ministry of Magic like an invisible hand.
Naturally, this feeling was not something an earthquake alone could produce.
It was pressure born from a difference in existential rank.
Most people simply lacked the experience to recognize it immediately.
Even so, the residual shockwaves from the confrontation between those two titanic figures were enough to leave everyone breathing heavily and drenched in cold sweat.
Some of the weaker administrative staff collapsed directly onto the floor while trembling uncontrollably.
"Merlin's beard! What's happening down there?!"
"Has an ancient dragon awakened?"
"Or... or has some legendary demon broken its seal?!"
"All the detection instruments have failed!"
"The energy level below... it's impossible to measure!"
"It's exceeded the maximum limit!"
The entire Ministry of Magic descended into chaos.
Inside Auror Headquarters, shrill alarm bells rang continuously.
The Scrying Mirrors used to monitor magical fluctuations exploded one after another, filling the air with the smell of burnt metal.
The senior Auror overseeing the night shift was a man named Callon.
Normally known for his calm and steady temperament, the veteran Auror and department director now wore a deathly pale expression.
His face looked terrible.
The hand gripping his wand had turned white from exertion.
"We can't wait any longer! First Team! Third Squad! With me! Bring the strongest protective and containment artifacts available! Everyone else, secure the critical departments and activate every defensive formation!" Callon roared hoarsely.
He knew the mission was likely suicidal.
Yet as an Auror, he could not simply stand by and do nothing.
Leading a squad of elite Aurors, each carrying the resolve of men marching toward their deaths, he charged toward the heavily guarded entrance leading underground.
The entrance to what was now known as the African version of Azkaban.
A place currently under complete lockdown.
Then… A figure appeared before the stone gate like a ghost blocking their path without any warning whatsoever.
The newcomer was completely wrapped in an unnaturally oversized black robe.
The material seemed capable of absorbing light itself, making the area around him appear noticeably darker than its surroundings.
His hood was pulled so low that his face was completely hidden.
Only occasionally, through the gaps in the shadows, could one glimpse a pair of eyes.
Calm.
Emotionless.
Like two bottomless ancient wells.
"Stop." The black-robed man's voice was not loud, yet it possessed a strange quality.
It seemed to bypass the ears entirely and resonate directly within the depths of the mind.
Instantly, the commotion and panic subsided. Even the violent magical turbulence in the air appeared to calm somewhat when approaching him.
Every gaze turned toward the mysterious figure.
Filled with suspicion.
Fear.
And a faint trace of hope.
"Who are you? State your identity!"
Suppressing his shock, Callon stepped forward. Although he did not raise his wand, every muscle in his body was already tense and prepared for battle.
Doing his best to remain composed, he spoke in a deep voice.
His tone did not tremble. His emotions, however, were another matter entirely.
He could sense it. The aura emanating from this person was profound and unfathomable.
Completely different from that of an ordinary wizard. It carried the coldness and detachment unique to someone who had spent a lifetime dealing with forbidden knowledge.
The black-robed man did not answer Callon's question.
In fact, he did not even look at him.
Those indifferent eyes slowly swept across the faces of every Auror present, like a scanning device.
Faces filled with fear and uncertainty.
Only after a long moment did his gaze settle upon Callon.
His voice remained utterly flat, as though he were simply stating an irrelevant fact.
"The underground sector is currently conducting a series of experiments. All energy fluctuations, physical tremors, and mental influences presently occurring are within expected operational parameters."
He paused briefly.
Then continued:
"This procedure concerns the stability of the Ministry of Magic's very foundation. Classification level: Top Secret."
For an instant, the cold gaze that fell upon them felt capable of freezing a person's very soul.
"Now, in the name of the Department of Mysteries, I hereby order the following: All personnel are to return to their assigned posts immediately and perform their duties diligently. Without direct authorization from either a Department Head or the Minister, no one is permitted, under any circumstances, to approach, investigate, or discuss anything occurring within the underground sector.
All related information is hereby classified as Top Secret.
It is not to be recorded.
It is not to be transmitted."
The black-robed man's voice deliberately slowed.
Each word struck the hearts of those present like an icy spike.
"Any violators..." He paused briefly before delivering the final sentence. "...will be charged with treason and endangering the security of the magical world, immediately detained, and subject to the maximum penalty."
There was no threatening tone in his voice. Yet the cold, matter-of-fact delivery, and the crimes he mentioned, were more intimidating than any furious roar.
Within the legal code of the African Ministry of Magic, charges such as treason and endangering the security of the magical world typically carried punishments equivalent to the Dementor's Kiss or eternal imprisonment within temporal and spatial turbulence.
"Normal circumstances?!" A young Auror standing behind Callon could not help blurting out the words.
His voice cracked with fear.
"This... this looks like the end of the world! How can this possibly be, "
"Silence, Jenkins!"
Callon spun around and barked sharply at his subordinate.
Then his gaze locked onto the black-robed figure.
Particularly when his peripheral vision caught sight of something embroidered on the back of the oversized robe.
Under the flickering magical lights, a symbol briefly became visible.
A mysterious sphere.
One that seemed to rotate endlessly.
It was composed of countless intricate geometric patterns and unknown ancient runes, as though it contained the deepest truths of the universe itself.
Callon's heart sank.
The last traces of doubt and reckless curiosity within him vanished completely. That was the emblem of the Department of Mysteries.
In Africa, or indeed, in virtually any Ministry of Magic throughout the world, this was a department that stood above ordinary institutions.
Its authority was so high that most people could barely comprehend it.
In Africa's case, the Department answered directly to the Supreme Council, composed of several of the continent's most ancient tribal chiefs and the Minister for Magic.
It operated entirely independently of all conventional governmental departments.
In fact, even the Minister for Magic did not possess a complete understanding of the Department.
Much like how a President of the United States might not have access to every classified secret within the government, there were things even the Minister lacked the authority to know.
The Department of Mysteries occupied exactly that kind of position within the magical world.
According to legend, its research encompassed the essence of time, the mysteries of creation, the fall of gods, and every other field of knowledge categorized as the highest taboo.
Its members rarely appeared in public.
But whenever they did, it meant events far beyond ordinary understanding were unfolding.
Moreover, their orders often represented the final will of the Supreme Council itself.
Not to be questioned.
Not to be disobeyed.
Any veteran Auror understood this perfectly.
"Understood, my lord." Callon drew a deep breath of the cold air still tainted by magical turbulence and forcibly calmed himself.
Turning toward his subordinates, whose faces were filled with fear and confusion, he issued his orders in the steadiest voice he could manage.
"You heard the directive. The Department of Mysteries is conducting a classified operation. Everyone is to return to their stations immediately. Strengthen security throughout the Ministry.
Without my direct authorization, no one is to approach the underground entrance again."
"You all heard the consequences for disobedience."
The Aurors and Ministry personnel exchanged uneasy glances.
Fear and curiosity continued to grow within them like weeds. Yet under Callon's stern gaze and the silent pressure radiating from the black-robed figure, nobody dared object.
One after another, they lowered their wands.
Filled with unanswered questions and deep unease, they retreated. Like a receding tide, the crowd gradually dispersed and returned to their still-trembling workstations.
"Are you satisfied now, sir?" As Director of the Auror Office, and a veteran administrator only a short time away from retirement, Callon spoke with great caution.
He looked toward the black-robed figure.
His heart was uneasy. Only those who had dealt with the Department of Mysteries personally could understand the truth.
Every single wizard in that department was, to put it mildly, abnormal.
A group of genuine lunatics.
No one ever knew what reason they might find to act.
At that moment, Callon was already prepared to defend himself at any second.
Fortunately, the other party did not betray his word.
Nor did he launch some underhanded sneak attack.
To be honest, this might have been the first Department of Mysteries member Callon had ever encountered who appeared reasonably sane and actually kept his promises.
Then again,
It wasn't entirely Callon's fault that he had developed something resembling persecution paranoia.
He knew many Aurors who had come into contact with the Department of Mysteries.
And many of them never returned.
He certainly didn't believe the official explanation that they had simply been reassigned elsewhere.
For people like Callon who had direct experience with the Department, the organization carried a giant invisible label:
Dangerous.
Now he stood there, tense and alert, watching the mysterious figure.
"Good."
"Do not allow curiosity to kill you."
Seeing that order had been restored, the black-robed man no longer lingered.
His figure swayed slightly.
Like a shadow melting into darkness.
The next instant, he vanished completely from before the stone gate.
It was as though he had never been there at all.
Only the brief glimpse of his fluttering robe as he departed allowed anyone to see the silver spherical emblem of the Department of Mysteries.
The image burned itself deeply into the memories of Callon and a handful of particularly observant individuals.
RUMBLE, !
RUMBLE, !
The terrifying sounds beneath their feet continued.
The thunderous vibrations rising from the depths below felt as though they originated from the deepest reaches of Hell itself.
Yet from this moment onward, they seemed destined to become an eternal mystery.
A source of fear that would never be explained.
No one dared seek the truth anymore.
(End of Chapter)
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