"Boom!!!"
A deafening roar, loud enough to shatter eardrums, exploded out, far more terrifying than any sound before it. The terrifying shockwave spread wildly in all directions from the point of impact, causing the space itself to distort and tremble violently, as if it were about to shatter at any moment.
Countless deep cracks instantly appeared on the already dilapidated black stone walls of Azkaban, and the cracks continued to spread, making the entire prison tremble; the North Sea was whipped up by the shockwave into towering waves tens of meters high, the waves churning as if the entire North Sea was boiling.
Even the sky.
The thick clouds in the sky were instantly torn to shreds, a fierce wind arose, whipping up rocks and seawater everywhere, creating utter chaos. The Auror below were in terrible condition, unable to withstand the powerful aftershocks, and were violently thrown to the ground by the shockwave, rolling around in a sorry state, screaming and trying to get away.
"Damn it! They're fighting again! They're fighting again!"
"How so!"
"Can't they go somewhere else to fight?!"
Some people crashed into the wall, others fell into the shallows of the beach. Their uniforms were covered in dust and seawater, making them look disheveled, but no one dared to complain. No one dared to get up and fight again; they could only lie on the ground, trembling.
They didn't even have the courage to look up.
"My God... even the aftershocks are terrifying! If we were hit head-on, not even ashes would remain! It's even scarier than the Avada Kedavra!" A young Auror lay on the ground, clinging tightly to a nearby stone pillar, his voice trembling uncontrollably, tears and snot mingling, his face filled with terror. "Is this really the power Wizard can possess? This is a demon god! A true demon god duel!" Another Auror, clutching his bleeding forehead, gazed at the fading light in the sky, his voice filled with despair, "Even if we all went together, we'd be like a mantis trying to stop a chariot; we'd be crushed in an instant."
As the dazzling light gradually faded, the two remained suspended in the sky, facing each other from afar. Neither retreated, nor did either fall. A trickle of bright red blood seeped from the corner of Grindelwald's mouth, sliding down his chin and dripping onto his black robe, spreading red marks. Yet, the smile on his face grew even more maniacal and fervent. The fighting spirit in his Heterochromia almost overflowed, and the Fiendfyre around him continued to burn fiercely, showing no sign of retreat.
Dumbledore's face paled slightly, and his breathing became a little rapid, clearly indicating that he had also exhausted himself. However, his hand holding the Elder Wand remained as steady as ever, without the slightest tremor. Although the golden light around him had dimmed a bit, it was still firm, and his eyes were full of composure and determination.
"Interesting... very interesting!" Grindelwald wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth, then licked it lightly with the tip of his tongue, the action carrying extreme madness and provocation. He stared at Dumbledore and burst into laughter, "Fifty years! Finally, someone has forced me to use my full strength. Albus, you truly are my only opponent! Continue! Make this battle even more intense!"
"Stubborn to the end, Gellert, now I have no choice but to stop you completely." Dumbledore, a hint of a sigh in his voice, but his movements were incredibly decisive. He slowly raised the Elder Wand, its tip beginning to gather an even more intense golden light. Grindelwald also raised his wand at the same time, its tip spewing forth increasingly violent black Fiendfyre. Their eyes met, and the tension in the air reached its peak. All the Auror held their breath, not daring to even breathe loudly, staring intently at the sky, awaiting the next, even more terrifying duel. The next second, the two roared simultaneously, their voices echoing through the heavens, shaking the sea once more!
" Fiendfyre - Burning the Heavens!"
As Grindelwald cast his incantation, countless black Fiendfyre erupted from his wand, no longer scattered, but instantly coalescing into a colossal black fire dragon capable of devouring the heavens and earth! The dragon stretched hundreds of meters long, its scales composed of pure Fiendfyre, its eyes burning with black fire. It opened its massive maw, revealing countless sharp, fiery fangs, and roared deafeningly, charging towards Dumbledore with an aura of utter domination.
"Boom!"
Wherever the flames passed, the air was scorched and Transfiguration, even turning the night sky black.
"Holy Light - Judgment!"
Dumbledore's incantation followed immediately, and the tip of the Elder Wand emitted an extremely brilliant golden light, which quickly condensed into an enormous, towering lightsaber!
The lightsaber, with its straight blade and runes, possessed the power to purify everything and sever evil. It plummeted from the sky at incredible speed, slashing fiercely at the black fire dragon with a whooshing sound!
The black fire dragon and the golden lightsaber collided violently in mid-air. Instead of exploding immediately, they were locked in an extreme stalemate. The black Fiendfyre and the golden holy light fought fiercely, eroding and burning each other. The light and flames intertwined, so bright that it was impossible to open one's eyes.
At that moment, the world lost its color, time seemed to stand still, all sounds disappeared, leaving only the buzzing of the Magic Power battle. The Auror below were all frozen in place, their minds blank, completely losing their ability to think, and could only stare blankly at that extremely shocking scene.
A few seconds later, the stalemate was broken. The black dragon and the lightsaber vanished simultaneously, turning into countless golden specks of light and black Mars that drifted down slowly, like a strange rain of light and fire.
High in the sky, Dumbledore and Grindelwald remained locked in a silent standoff. Both were panting heavily, their chests heaving, their Magic Power depleted, and their faces showing exhaustion. Yet, their gazes remained resolute. Neither of them fell, neither retreated, their eyes fixed intently on each other. It was as if, with the last ounce of strength, they would launch another attack.
On the ground, the Auror struggled to their feet, brushing off the dust and seawater. They were all ragged and disheveled, yet they still looked up at the sky, their eyes filled with awe, fear, and shock—a mixture of emotions.
I was unable to calm down for a long time.
Those two figures hovering high in the sky were no longer ordinary Wizard in their eyes, but gods who reigned supreme over all living beings. This battle was destined to become an indelible memory for them for the rest of their lives.
"I will never forget this night in my life..." The elder Auror Grand Master picked up his wand from the ground, his voice hoarse and full of awe. "This was the most spectacular duel in the history of the Wizarding World. We were fortunate or unfortunate to witness it."
While everyone's attention was focused on the two dueling in the sky, atop a towering reef not far from Azkaban, a jet-black Raven stood silently, its posture upright, undisturbed by the shockwave. Tilting its head, its dark, bright eyes clearly reflected the golden and black interplay of light and shadow in the sky, reflecting the earth-shattering battle.
If you look closely into its eyes, you'll find no trace of animalistic ignorance; instead, they gleam with an extremely human-like light—appreciation, satisfaction, and calculation.
There was also a barely suppressed, deeply hidden smile.
"Superb Acting Skill." Raven thought calmly to itself, without uttering a sound, yet exuding an air of absolute certainty: the performance was flawless.
Grindelwald brought to life the crazed, obsessive, and war-hungry dark Wizard, unrestrained and ruthless, with every move carrying a devastating ferocity.
Dumbledore perfectly embodies the righteous guardian who is forced to fight, has a strong sense of justice, and is restrained and patient. He is calm and determined, proceeds step by step, and always holds back, yet his strength is equal to that of his opponent.
One was arrogant to the extreme, the other restrained to the extreme. Their confrontation was flawless. Every collision, every argument, every trace of exhaustion was incredibly real. No Auror present, no one who witnessed this battle had the slightest doubt.
They would only firmly believe that they were mortal enemies who would fight to the death, a true battle to the death.
It gently flapped its black wings, adjusted its stance, and remained firmly atop the highest point of the reef, continuing to quietly "enjoy" this meticulously planned and spectacular show, its gaze fixed on the two figures high above, without wavering in the slightest.
In the night sky, golden light and Black Flames slowly coalesced once more, a new collision about to begin. The wind grew increasingly violent, the waves increasingly turbulent, and the entire North Sea trembled. The ruins of Azkaban groaned in the wind.
It was as if they were lamenting this divine duel.
That night, the North Sea was sleepless, with giant waves surging and the entire sea trembling under the pressure of two extreme forces. Even the deep-sea monsters dared not surface, cowering on the seabed and trembling.
That night, Azkaban collapsed, this Wizard prison, which was said to never fall, proved as fragile as paper in the face of this duel. That night, all the Auror who witnessed it saw Power of Cognition, and the two figures floating in the night sky were forever etched into their souls.
It became a legend passed down through the ages in the Wizarding World.
The Raven on the reef silently witnessed everything. It knew perfectly well that this seemingly earth-shattering life-or-death duel was nothing more than a carefully orchestrated play, merely the beginning of a grand plan. The real strategy, the real game, the truly exciting part was yet to come.
This duel in the skies above the North Sea was merely the first act; the subsequent dramatic changes would be enough to shake the entire Wizarding World. On the ruins of Azkaban, there was not a single superfluous scene, only the extreme conflict tearing the heavens and earth apart. The sky was forcibly cleaved in two; one half was bathed in pure golden light emanating from Dumbledore, clear and heavy, carrying the holiness and oppressive power of Ancient Magic.
The other half is the black Fiendfyre controlled by Grindelwald.
The flame core glowed with a dark purple hue, wild and violent. Wherever it passed, even the air was scorched and distorted. Broken stone pillars and shattered iron railings in the ruins melted at the slightest touch, and even the cold sea breeze was scorched into heat waves.
Two beams of ultimate Magic Power light collided violently without any buffer. Each collision produced a deafening roar, and the sound waves spread along the sea surface, creating giant waves several meters high that slammed into the remaining stone walls of Azkaban, crushing the already dilapidated fortress into even greater pieces.
Two figures darted swiftly through the clouds and Black Mist, so fast that only golden and black afterimages remained, their movements too fast for the naked eye to follow. Dumbledore's white robes were enveloped in golden light, his movements graceful yet steady, each shift precisely avoiding fatal attacks. The Elder Wand in his hand seemed to come alive, moving at his will. Grindelwald, on the other hand, was wreathed in black flames, his movements as swift as a hawk, carrying a ruthless, desperate ferocity. The two fought from the low skies above the sea to the top of the clouds, and then fiercely from the clouds... Slamming violently onto the ruined platform, each collision of limbs and Magic Power caused the boulders beneath their feet to shatter, sending debris and Magic Power shockwaves flying everywhere, completely transforming this isolated island imprisoning dark Wizard into a dueling arena for top-tier Wizard. The Auror below had already retreated to the reefs three miles away, completely out of the core area affected by the battle. They huddled behind massive dark rocks, in the crevices of the remaining half of the stone wall, and some clung desperately to the only intact iron gate in the ruins.
Everyone gripped their wands tightly, their knuckles turning white from the force, their arms trembling slightly, yet no one dared to raise their wand. And no one dared to utter even the slightest extra sound.
They were the elite handpicked by the Ministry of Magic, having witnessed the chaos caused by dark Wizard and experienced the sporadic battles of the Wizard Wars, but the confrontation before them had far exceeded all their understanding of magic.
This was no ordinary Wizard duel; there was no back-and-forth exchange of spells, no probing defenses. It was a life-or-death struggle between two Legend stood at the pinnacle of the world's magic, using their life's Magic Power and conviction.
Their spells lacked flashy lights and shadows, yet they could tear through space; every gesture they made rewrote the surrounding magical rules. The residual Magic Power energy emanating from them could cause ordinary Auror ' wands to groan and nearly slip from their grasp. The Auror exchanged bewildered glances, their eyes filled with fear and confusion. They didn't know who to point at, nor dared to intervene lightly—any leak of residual power could instantly obliterate them. Faced with such a duel, their so-called elite strength was nothing more than vulnerable ants.
Gleeson slumped behind a cold, damp rock, his back pressed against the rough surface, gasping for breath. Each breath carried the salty tang of the sea and the pungent smell of burning Magic Power. His chest heaved violently, and his face was covered in cold sweat.
Cold sweat mixed with seawater splashed on his face, dripping down his jawline and accumulating into a small puddle at his feet.
His robes were already torn by the rubble, and there were several bloody marks on his arms from the aftershocks of Magic Power, but he felt no pain at all. All his attention was drawn to the duel in the sky, and his heart felt as if it were being tightly gripped by an invisible hand, almost leaping out of his chest.
The man's right hand gripped a bronze emergency contact badge tightly. The badge was engraved with the emblem of the Ministry of Magic, and a faint silver light flowed within the patterns.
This is the Ministry of Magic's highest-level emergency item, equipped with built-in cross-regional communication magic. No matter where in the world you are, simply press the badge to instantly send a distress signal to both the Ministry of Magic and the International Wizarding Union. The signal strength is sufficient to penetrate any Magic Barrier.
"Damn it!" Gleeson's fingertips were numb from exerting too much force. His fingertips rubbed the trigger button on the badge repeatedly, but he couldn't press it. His arm was frozen in mid-air, caught in a dilemma.
He knew.
You can ask for help.
But who could possibly defeat those two?