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HP: The Magical Gamer

A 10 year old Harry Potter was sleeping soundly in his house when something extraordinary miracle happens to him. He is Chosen to be the first gamer of his world by someone called Creator, and there are no conditions on how he should use it. And after discovering this he decided to become the strongest one in the world.

Kitamari · Livres et littérature
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186 Chs

Chapter 60: Attack!

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The warning was heard by everyone in the Great Hall. There was a rush of whisperings as the students grumbled among themselves, frightened and anxious. But no one said out loud to give Harry Potter to the Dark Lord, they couldn't in the presence of Dumbledore.

While more than enough people thought it was fair to trade one life to save theirs, they didn't voice it out loud, knowing that they would be turned into social pariahs.

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Henry stood outside the gates, far away from the army that they wouldn't notice him.

Usually, Henry would have walked up to the army and started his assault directly, knowing he was capable of killing all of them by himself. But he was still wary of Voldemort. He wouldn't take rash actions. The last time he did that, he returned with his sister's dead body.

It wouldn't happen again. Not when he was so close to achieving his aim. He decided to do his work from a safe distance and let his minions be the face of the resistance.

He was a Necromancer after all, he didn't need to do it himself. He didn't need to be seen. He set his strongest minion to the task.

"Dai Deam. Go." He said as he leaned against the metal gate while using his magic to sharpen his eyesight and look hundred metres ahead, where the war would take place.

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Voldemort was mildly surprised to see a lone man walking towards them from Hogwarts. His surprise grew when he realised that the man was stark naked. The old man with bald head and long beard stopped ten metres before the army. 

The attackers swayed with excitement, but remained where they were, waiting for the Dark Lord's order.

In the silence that followed, Voldemort stared from above, gazing at the old emaciated man. He looked so weak that a gust of wind could take him away. But after further observation, he saw the minute details with his enhanced sight.

The skinny body of the man was covered with dark black veins and his eyes were red and glassy. Voldemort's own eyes widened in disbelief at the sudden revelation.

Yes, there was no doubt. This man was an undead. There was a Necromancer here, controlling him from afar, from some hidden hole.

Before he could do anything with this new information, the undead raised his right hand to the sky and mumbled something under his breath.

The grey clouds turned black, the wind turned into a storm, thunder rumbled deep in the valley, spooking the Death Eaters deeply. And then the mightiest bolts of lightning fell from the heavens, directly on the heads of the twenty giants.

The night turned into a day. The darkness was swallowed by light. The clouds shone with ethereal brightness as the giants screamed in agony, as they were set on fire, as the chaos ensued and snuffed out the lives of the tall behemoths.

Voldemort's army acted like headless chickens and they ran back, trampling their fallen colleagues. But one word from the Dark Lord was enough to calm them temporarily.

"Stop!" Voldemort yelled and pointed his wand at the sky in defiance. A black ray of light pierced the clouds. His pale hand trembled from the power flowing through his body. 

His powerful spell passed through the ethereal clouds and a second later there was a loud boom that shook both the heavens and the earth.

There were no more clouds.

The starry sky was clear.

It was odd that a battle was being fought under such a beautiful night sky.

But the damage was already done. The giants were nothing but ginormous charred carcasses. Their bodies burnt to crisp, leaving no life in their eyes. 

With one swoop, Dai Deam had taken away the strongest members of the opposing army.

Voldemort glared at the single undead that had caused so much havoc for him in such a short time. Just as he was going to level his wand at the old man, loud cackles filled the battleground. The mocking laughter surrounded them like a humongous wave, coming to wash them away.

Suddenly, 600 skeletons rose from the ground behind Dai Deam. They began banging their swords on their shields and laughed loudly. If that wasn't enough to scare the army of living, 150 undead archers too materialised behind the skeletons. 

They wore deep red armour over their peeling skin and their glowing blue eyes burned with hatred. Immediately, they aimed their bows at the sky and pulled the bowstring before letting loose.

"Shield!" Voldemort roared just a second later.

The Death Eaters and the few werewolves conjured protego shields while the vampires and the Dementors nimbly dodged the arrows.

Few fell and many didn't, but it was enough to infuriate the Dark Lord. He hadn't come here to fight a prolonged battle. He hadn't expected a slimy Necromancer to be here, defending the castle against him. But he would do it, he would play this useless game to win the castle.

"Attack!" He commanded imperiously. His army reluctantly surged forward. While they were still scared, they easily outnumbered the skeletons and their number advantage assured them a bit.

That was a mistake.

A big golden dome of light rose from the ground, capturing the battle forces inside it, preventing everyone from leaving the boundary.

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Henry smiled in satisfaction as his own small army did pretty well against Voldemort's massive one.

The Dementors were useless against the undead and hence they lay still in the air, not contributing in the least.

The magical beasts were effective against his army, but the skeletons were dauntless and fanatic in extreme. They fought with a manic grin even when they were dismembered or decapitated. The skeletons always rose back and healed. And they would keep on doing that until Henry ran out of mana.

Slowly, but gradually, his small army pushed back the dark lord's forces. It wasn't a big achievement since his pawns were undying, not staying dead while the opposing force suffered loses every second.

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(P).(A).(T).(R).(E).(O).(N)

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