Only the Raven.
Is the true arbiter of the outcome.
Just as Ian's intuition kept surfacing in his heart.
The Raven's voice sounded again.
Calm and indifferent.
And it confirmed Ian's suspicions.
"Holding destiny is just like this."
After speaking.
It lowered its head.
Continuing to concentrate on the forging in the magma, as if the conversation had never happened. It still didn't look at him, instead kept its head down, focused on the process within the volcano.
Perhaps.
Everything just now was nothing but a small ripple of fate.
Not worth mentioning.
Ian furrowed his brow, staring at the silent Raven.
He suddenly realized something—
He was not a witness of the past but a participant in destiny.
He could exert influence on timelines not his own, altering established facts.
What does this mean?
It means he is no longer merely an observer.
But also... a part of destiny.
"Can you... see me?" he asked tentatively.
The Raven did not answer.
It just stood quietly.
Feathers slightly quivering in the wind, its gaze still focused on the depths of the volcano, red eyes reflecting the boiling magma, as if the interaction just now was merely a glance cast from the past.
Now.
The Raven withdrew its gaze that could see the future.
It ignored Ian further.
Becoming even more focused on forging its object.
"Not, playing cool?"
Ian's thoughts surged.
He very much wanted to know what the Raven was forging.
What could keep the Raven so focused, ignoring external threats? And surely it must be powerful enough to make the God of Death wary, willing to send the souls of Dark Wizards to sabotage?
Indeed.
This confirmed the fact that the God of Death himself is somewhat cowardly, not daring to trouble the Raven personally, even knowing that the Raven's focus is divided he only dares to send underlings, the Dark Wizards.
One can only say.
Who knows what past experiences could have made the renowned God of Death seem somewhat cowardly. In any case, the God of Death definitely doesn't want to see the Raven complete the final forging. Magma boiled, the outline of some object faintly appearing in the black liquid, but exactly what it was, Ian still couldn't see.
He was very clear.
Something that could concern the God of Death so much, that the Raven would pay such attention to.
This is by no means an ordinary Magic Item.
It might even be stronger than the Deathly Hallows.
What exactly is the Raven refining?
Why would the God of Death take the risk, sending gathered Dark Wizard souls here to stop it? Is what it's forging a Big Killer to the God of Death?
Ian didn't know the answer.
But he had a vague premonition—within that furnace, something was being born that was undoubtedly more than just a weapon. Just as he was speculating, the battlefield's silence was broken.
The souls of the Dark Wizards recovered from the backlash, letting out silent roars, regrouping again. The Dementors also pounced anew, decaying bodies colliding with Dark Arts, the battle continued.
And the Raven, remained still.
Red eyes gazed at the magma, as if the entire world was unrelated to it.
In a world where ashes drifted.
The battle still raged on.
More Dementors appeared.
The souls of the Dark Wizards surged like a tide, howling, cursing, brandishing decayed arms, releasing wave after wave of Dark Arts capable of corroding souls. However, the number of Dementors only increased—crawling out of cracks in the rock, diving from the sky, even emerging from the depths of the magma.
As if endless.
Withstood the attack.
"Block them!"
The leading Dark Wizard soul roared harshly, both hands gathering a mass of black energy, thrusting it toward the advancing Dementors. The energy exploded, instantly tearing dozens of Dementors to shreds. However, before he could catch his breath, a larger Dementor suddenly lunged from the side, its decaying bone claws clamped onto his shoulder like iron pincers.
"No!! I don't want to go back!!" The Dark Wizard's soul screamed, body twisting and deforming in black flames, eventually hurled into the boiling magma.
"Let me go! Let go—"
His screams abruptly ceased.
The Dementor ruthlessly tossed him into the boiling magma.
"Sss—"
At the moment the soul touched the magma, his body melted like wax, eventually turning into a wisp of black smoke, swallowed entirely by the magma.
He vanished, leaving only a piercing wail.
This scene shocked the remaining Dark Wizards. Their offensive slightly halted, but soon, more souls poured onto the battlefield from behind, trying to break through the defensive line to destroy the volcano.
However, the number of Dementors kept increasing.
They surrounded the enemy like a silent legion from all directions, extending pale arms from under rotting cloaks, bone claws precisely tearing at the Spirit Bodies of the Dark Wizards. As more souls were encircled and vanquished, the formations of the Dark Wizards began to crumble, connections between individuals shattered, leaving only chaos and fear among them.
"Retreat! Quick, retreat!"
Cried one Dark Wizard in terror, attempting to flee.
But it was already too late.
The Dementors gave them no more chances.
They dove down like black raptors, precisely locking onto every target. Bone claws pierced through the shell of souls, dragging each Dark Wizard down, then outright tossing them into the volcano.
"Ah—!"
"No! Save me—!"
Piercing wails rose one after the other, the souls of the Dark Wizards falling like rain into the magma, becoming fuel, making the volcano boil even more violently, giving amplification to what was being forged within it.