Chapter 142 : Dumbledore And A Thief 3
(Dumbledore POV)
As the battle intensified, I drew upon the formidable power of my Elder Wand, never like using the Law of Death but power is power. I long realised that anyone who uses this power ultimately has to pay, I too have to but I need this power.
Channeling the ancient magic that coursed through its hallowed wood. With a flick of my wrist, I unleashed a torrent of spells, each one imbued with the raw law of death.
To my astonishment, the white-haired thief countered my attacks with a skill and finesse that defied comprehension. How? I have no idea. Normal magic shouldn't even stand a chance against Law.
Is this wizard also using Law? I sense it around the place but not in the spell fired by him or her, I can't say. No maybe it's a different kind of law.
I only learn the Law of Death by studying the Deathly Hallows. But this power is similar yet different.
But that is not the biggest issue, the real problem is the magic was unlike anything I had ever encountered – intricate and complex, weaving through the air with an elegance that belied its deadly intent.
It's still not as strong as what I can do, I am sure about it, but this control over the magic. What is going on?
As our duel raged on, I realized that I was facing an opponent of unparalleled skill and experience. And it means something when it's coming out of the Supreme Mugwump and Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot mouth.
Their movements were fluid and precise, their strategy calculated and cunning. It was as though they had been honing their craft for centuries, mastering every nuance of the magical arts.
Despite my best efforts, I found myself struggling to keep pace with the creative and unknown spells shot by the opponents. Turning the walls into mirrors which reflect spells, making the debris turn into bullet ants, creating fog with miniature sharp crystals in them. All the spells done were Transfiguration. And that too at the highest level.
I too was a master of Transfiguration but my opponent's skills, I don't want to accept it, were better than mine, far surpassed mine.
Each spell I cast was met with a counterattack, the most embarrassing and intriguing thing was that the opponent's spells were clearly not as strong as mine, but he was a better caster, my fire spell was masterfully vanquished by just turning the dust into liquid nitrogen. How I have no idea. And there was much more, pushing me to the limits of my abilities.
With each incantation, I felt the raw power of my magic surge forth, driving back the relentless tide of my adversary's assault.
But I knew that neither of us could use our full power in this fight, the place wouldn't allow it, not to mention, there are others here beside me. I have to save them.
.
.
.
(Sometime Later)
I came back to my hotel, my mind still wondering about the fight a few hours ago.
"What was that, who was that ?" I mutter with a grim on my face.
'Was another dark lord emerging from somewhere? Why this is happening now, Tom is finally making his move. I know for sure that the chamber of secrets opening has something to do with him again.
And now there was this unknown white hair witch. At least believe that the person I fought was a witch and not a wizard.'
The white hair also reminded me of someone, is he somehow involved in this? Beside me, Tom and Nicholas, he alone has the knowledge of Law.
I could say that we both were on equal terms when it came to the duel. My magical power is stronger but only becuase of the elder wand. While the girl was much more experienced and much more composed.
What kind of life does this person have to live to be more experienced in battle and fight magic than me?
This is not right, how come suddenly there is someone this strong showing up in the world? It takes time to get stronge...
"Well, there is also that kid, Nick and Rose too much there are bounds to be some geniuses and great men born in every era...
There is also Orion, he is a genius, even better than I ever was. But no matter how brilliant. The upper ceiling of a wizard or a witch is defined by the birth.
Me, Tom, Gellert, who wasn't born with powerful magic. This is the blood lottery they are born with. The boon of powerful magic. Of course, without hard work, no one can achieve their full potential. But no amount of hard work can close the gap between naturally gifted.
Orion is the brightest wizard I have ever seen to date, someone who could even make something like a squib potion, but he can't achieve the peak of this world," I said reminding myself that everyone's destiny is pre-determined.
And that Orion is a good boy, maybe he can never get as strong as Rose or Tom and maybe even Nick but he will leave his own legacy behind.
Sighing, I just went back to bed. He still had much to do in the US. They have lost the track of dark witch. Finding her has to be their first priority.
.
.
.
While this was happening, Dumbledore and the entirety of US magical ministry was under chaos as most of the attacks were happening in the US.
Another old man was making moves to.
In the depths of Nurmengard, Grindelwald's subordinates gathered with excited expressions, bearing news that sent shockwaves which might even rival the Atomic bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki.
Grindelwald looking even older than Dumbledore was waiting for this news if that was even possible. He had been waiting for a long time, and in all this time he finally saw hope.
A hope not only for the wizarding world but for himself as well.
The whispers of a young wizard named Orion and his claims about the existence of a Squib potion had reached even the walls of their fortress.
He read Orion's book, A chaotic core. The book contains more profanities than the entire population of magicals in the world.
A little chuckle escaped his lips as the disparity of his own joke came to him. Yes, that how bad the current situation of the magical is. In just a few generations the magical power of the world will run out.
Maybe faster if the squib potion is mass-produced. After all more magical means more consumption of magic.
This was also the reason the population of magical were depleting. But he doesn't have any hostility against the young man. In fact, he admires him, with just one potion he was able to do something which he himself the dark lord of the past era was never able to accomplish.
Yes, he never planned to rule the world like a certain snake bastard. He only wanted to save the wizarding world. Thats it.
As they relayed the details of Orion's assertions, Grindelwald's eyes narrowed with interest. The notion of a potion capable of bestowing magical abilities upon Squibs for the lack of a better word, is earth-shattering. It solves one of the problems of the current situation of the wizarding world.
That being Population. At least this way for a short term they can prevent the magical blood from the world to exist. But the real problem is still unsolved. Magic itself was running out.
But Grindelwald believed that Orion could do something about it. He too holds some sort of prophecy power himself, although that is the last bit of magic he....
He needs Orion. Without that boy, if any of his dreams and prophecies has any weight, then that boy can save the wizarding world.
But How?
With a nod of acknowledgement, Grindelwald instructed his subordinates to finally take action.
"Bring that potion. I need it. Don't come in contact with the boy though. I need all the information about the boy. If possible his family history.
"And... his connection with Albus. No, forget it just keep observing him," Gellert said as he again sat down and took out a white book.
His subordinate didn't understand the reason but still agreed with him.
Grindelwald though just kept on looking at the book in his hand, like the white book in his hand, written by a boy not even 1/5th of his age, containing all the answers he demanded.
"Everything for the greater good,"
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