Before starting a fight, you always threw a flashbang. That was the sort of thinking he'd carried over from his previous life.
Beneath the brilliant sunlight, Anton gently waved his wand. In an instant, countless butterflies with translucent wings burst from its tip.
Each wing was like a tiny mirror, enchanted with a randomly applied Refraction of Light Charm. The butterflies would seize on whatever nearby reflections they happened to find and display them on their wings. (Anton invented this spell; it was mentioned in Chapters 922 and 968.)
It was an improved version of Avis. Countless butterflies filled the square outside the Magical Congress Building, flitting about at random and turning everything in sight into a dizzying blur.
It was as if the whole world had shattered into pieces.
The butterflies reflected the huge sun overhead like tiny searchlights. As they danced through the air, their beams cast halos before everyone's eyes, like a brilliant River of Stars.
It was quite ingenious. The sun, the mirror-winged butterflies, and the hidden memories and visual senses of those affected by the magic had combined to form an intricate piece of Ritual Magic.
It was stirring humanity's fascination with the vast starry sky.
At once, everyone felt dizzy. The whole world seemed to be swaying and spinning in every direction.
At that point, no one could have cast an attack spell at Anton. Even Voldemort, who had encountered the strange magic, felt as though he were trapped in a vortex of countless spots of light, unable to find his bearings.
"Gah ha ha..."
"Harry, see that? This is way more effective than opening with a Disarming Charm!"
Anton excitedly waved his wand, driving the Ritual Magic forward with all his might.
Harry couldn't answer. The dizzying lights and shadows made his stomach