The Auror Squad originally tasked with guarding Azkaban was now in complete disarray. They were still reeling from witnessing the devastating power of the two Legendary Wizard, and the sense of powerlessness they felt as mortals in the face of gods had not yet dissipated. Now, they had to confront this group of Dementor who had completely gone berserk.
"Form defensive formation! Quickly!" the Auror captain roared, trying to stabilize the situation. However, his command seemed utterly powerless against the overwhelming black tide of Dementor. The Dementor seemed to have lost their minds; they no longer floated slowly but darted about like black lightning. They clashed against the Auror ' Patronus Charm, their once silvery-white light teetering under the Dementor onslaught. A fawn, the manifestation of Guardian Spirit Charm, had barely taken shape when it was swarmed by three crazed Dementor, instantly swallowed by the black chill, dissipating into starlight. "Their power has increased!" another female Auror screamed in despair, "No, their hatred has increased! They're absorbing each other's pain!" Indeed. Unable to escape, the Dementor began to devour each other's despair. In this confined space, negative emotions formed a terrifying closed loop, each Dementor becoming nourishment Dementor the others. Their size was expanding!
The surrounding temperature was dropping at an alarming rate; even the breath exhaled by the Auror was instantly freezing into ice shards.
The battle quickly devolved into a one-sided massacre, only this time, the roles of hunter and prey were strangely reversed. The Auror fought with all their might, various spells weaving into a chaotic net of light in the air. " Patronus Charm!"
" Incarcerous!"
" Incendio!"
Red flames, blue Freezing Charm, and golden binding chains all struck the black cloaks, but were like mud sinking into the sea, failing to create even a ripple. Ordinary offensive spells were almost ineffective against the berserk Dementor, while the Patronus Charm required an extremely strong memory of joy. But in this extremely oppressive, cold, and despairing environment, who could easily summon joy from the depths of their heart? A seasoned Auror attempted to summon a lion, but what flashed through his mind was Grindelwald's disdainful gaze and Dumbledore's sorrowful expression. That momentary wavering caused his Guardian Spirit to crumble as soon as it appeared. Immediately afterward, two frenzied Dementor pounced, piercing right through his body.
"Ahhh!" The Auror let out a scream that was not human, and his whole body went limp to the ground. The light in his eyes dimmed instantly, as if a piece of his soul had been forcibly ripped out. He lay on the cold ground, white foam dripping from the corner of his mouth, in a permanent coma, and he might never wake up again.
This scene severely damaged the morale of the remaining Auror. Panic spread like wildfire. Some began to retreat, some dropped their wands, and some even knelt on the ground, weeping and awaiting death. "We can't die here! We still have families!"
"Someone will save us! Professor Dumbledore! Mr. Grindelwald! Anyone!"
The shouts were drowned out by the Dementor ' shrieks. The black figures swirled in the air, forming a massive black vortex that surrounded the surviving Auror. They seemed to sense the Wizard ' fear and grew even more excited. They no longer rushed to absorb souls, but instead, like cats Rat, slowly approached, enjoying the sight of their prey struggling in despair. A thick layer of black ice had formed on the ground of Azkaban, a product of frozen despair. The Auror ' defenses collapsed completely; they huddled back to back, the light from their wands growing increasingly faint. In this endless darkness and cold, the aura of death was suffocatingly intense.
"It's over... it's all over..." the Auror captain muttered to himself, his wand falling limply to his side. He watched the approaching shadows, only one thought remaining in his mind: Is this the end? After the Dark Lord was defeated, were they destined to become casualties in this god-like battle?
Just as an exceptionally large Dementor opened its empty mask, preparing to deliver the final blow to Captain Auror, a sudden change occurred. At this critical moment, a strange noise suddenly rang out.
The sound wasn't loud; in fact, it was quite faint. Yet, amidst the cacophony of shrieks and howling wind, it clearly reached everyone's ears. It was the sound of wings beating through the air, steady and powerful, carrying an ancient and mysterious rhythm.
Then.
A silvery-white line.
A pure, almost blinding light suddenly shone from a corner of the ruins!
The light did not emanate from the wand, nor from any magical object. It was pure, ancient, and imbued with an indescribable aura of holiness, as if it came from the very first ray of light at the dawn of the world.
The light swept across Azkaban, past the maddened Dementor, past the desperate Auror—
All the Dementor stopped at the same time.
Their decaying, featureless faces turned toward the source of the light, and for the first time, a feeling akin to "surprise" appeared in their empty eye sockets. Fluttering... fluttering...
All movements seemed to freeze at that moment.
Whether it was the rampaging Dementor or the Auror on the verge of collapse, they all stopped what they were doing and turned their gazes toward the source of the sound. At the highest point of the ruins of Azkaban, on the towering stone where the highest watchtower once stood, now only a section of broken wall remained, a black figure had appeared out of nowhere.
That was a Raven.
Its entire body was jet black, its feathers gleaming with a deep blue sheen in the sunlight, as if woven from the purest night. Its eyes were as deep as pools, revealing a wisdom and indifference that transcended species. It stood silently on the precarious rock, unmoved by the raging Magic Power currents around it, as if it were the only anchor in this chaotic world. The Raven was several times larger than an ordinary Raven, its wings folded to its sides, yet it still exuded an undeniable presence.
It stood there, looking down at the frenzied creatures below, like a king scrutinizing his subjects.
A miracle happened at that moment.
The Dementor, which had been rampaging and attacking anyone in sight, seemed to have their throats seized by some invisible force the moment they saw the Raven. Their piercing shrieks abruptly ceased, replaced by a trembling of near awe.
The largest Dementor let out a low hiss, its previous madness gone, replaced only by instinctive fear. It slowly retreated, and the Dementor behind it followed, like the receding tide, slowly moving away from the barrier and the Auror.
Then, something truly astonishing happened.
The largest Dementor, which had just been about to kill the Auror captain, slowly turned around and lowered its faceless head to the Raven on the high rock. Then, it began to move, not rushing towards its prey, but flying towards the rock.
One, two, ten, a hundred... Countless Dementor rose from the ruins and flew toward the Raven. They circled and gathered below the Raven, like pilgrims or weary birds returning to their nests.
All the remaining Dementor, no matter how mad they had been before, no matter how far they had been from the stone, now seemed to have received some supreme summons. Yes.
They abandoned their prey that was within reach, abandoned their urge to vent their madness, and in unison turned around, transforming into streaks of black light, rushing towards the towering rock.
The Raven simply watched them silently, its dark eyes devoid of any emotion—no joy, no anger, only an age-old, timeless calm. "What's going on?!"
The Auror stared in stunned silence, forgetting even to breathe.
They watched as the monsters that had once struck fear into their hearts now gathered obediently around the Raven like a flock of weary birds returning to their nest. The Raven remained still, only tilting its head slightly, its deep eyes sweeping across the trembling crowd below before finally settling on the converging black torrent. As the last Dementor flew near the rock, the strange thing happened again.
The Raven let out a soft cry, not loud, but clear enough to echo throughout Azkaban, across the surrounding seas, and reach the ears of everyone. As the cry faded, all the Dementor fell silent. They stopped struggling, stopped howling, stopped trying to escape—they simply hovered silently beneath the Raven, like the most loyal guardians.
around.
The barrier lit up again, the cracks slowly healed, and it regained its original sturdiness.
Everyone just stared blankly at the Raven.
Looking at the Dementor that had fallen silent below it, my mind went blank.
The Dementor' black forms didn't remain on the stone surface. Instead, upon contact with the faint halo surrounding the Raven, they rapidly shrank and faded. Their black cloaks turned into wisps of black smoke, and the nauseating chill dissipated into the air.
They didn't disappear; instead, they were "contained."
The Raven spread its wings, which seemed to grow infinitely wide, instantly covering the entire stone ceiling. A gentle and mysterious power emanated from it, forming a massive gravitational field. All the Dementor turned into black smoke and were continuously drawn into the Raven's wings, like rivers flowing into the sea.
The entire process was eerily quiet, with only the sound of flapping wings and the faint rustling of flowing black smoke.
In less than a minute, the dark shadows that filled the sky vanished without a trace. The thick clouds above Azkaban seemed to have been dispersed somewhat by this mysterious force, and a ray of sunlight pierced through the clouds, shining on the towering rock and the Raven.
The Raven retracted its wings, its form appearing somewhat more solid than before. It took one last look at the still-shaken Auror below and let out a clear, melodious cry.
quack
To be fair, the voice was clear and melodious, completely lacking the despair-inducing quality of a Dementor. Instead, it carried a calming power. Upon hearing this cry, the Auror felt the chill in their bodies quickly recede, and the painful memories stirred up by the Dementor became blurred. In their place came a feeling of exhaustion and tranquility after surviving a catastrophe.
The Raven lowered its head and glanced at them. That glance was calm and profound, like a bottomless, icy pool, or like the gaze of an ancient god looking down upon all living beings. Then, the Raven spread its wings and took flight.
It didn't fly towards the sea, nor towards the sky, but instead plunged straight into the darkest shadowy region deep within Azkaban, vanishing instantly as if it had never existed.
With the Raven's departure, the suffocating oppression on Azkaban finally dissipated completely, leaving only the terrified Auror slumped in the ruins, unable to recover for a long time.
The battle in the sky, of course, continued.
For the time being, no one paid any attention; after all, a fight between two old men was a big spectacle, but it hadn't affected anyone else, far less terrifying than Dementor rampage. "He actually survived! Thank God! Thank you, Merlin!" Gleeson collapsed to the ground, panting heavily, his body drenched in cold sweat. "What... what is it?"
A young Auror asked, trembling, his voice filled with disbelief. The Auror captain struggled to his feet, wiping the frost from his face, his gaze fixed on the direction the Raven had vanished. "I don't know... but I'm certain that if it weren't for it, we would all be dead."
The night wind howled, carrying the stench of the sea and the Embers of volcanic ash, sweeping across the ruins of Azkaban.
The Auror remained slumped on the ground, none possessing the strength to stand. Their faces were etched with the relief of surviving a catastrophe, and a deeper, unspeakable bewilderment. The Raven had vanished into the night with the Dementor, but the shock it left behind was branded into the depths of everyone's soul. They exchanged bewildered glances, a profound and indescribable awe rising within them. In the battle just now, Dumbledore and Grindelwald had displayed godlike power, tearing apart countless Dementor; but this mysterious Raven, in an even more unfathomable way, had quelled the remaining calamity.
In this magical world.
How many unknown entities are still hidden?
The wind blew across the ruins, bringing with it the salty scent of the sea.
The surviving Auror supported each other, gazing at the ravaged island and the fierce battle in the sky, knowing that today's experience would be an unforgettable dream for them, and yet another unsolved mystery in the A History of Magic.
Who was that Raven? Why could it control the Dementor? Was it connected to Dumbledore or Grindelwald in some way? These questions may never be answered. But everyone knows that on that afternoon when the sun pierced through the clouds, it was a mysterious Raven that pulled them back from the brink of hell. That mysterious creature.
As if he had stepped out of a myth—yes, Ian made his presence known, but no one knew that he had returned to this point.