At this moment, all the Death Eaters had unknowingly been dragged into the Mirror of Night, suffering the same torment as Rodolphus.
They heard footsteps in the corridor and tried all manner of resistance, but none of it had any effect.
The "companions" beside the Death Eaters also found their behavior incomprehensible, looking at them as though they were lunatics.
Combined with the oppressive darkness created by the Mirror of Night and the assault of the illusions, nearly every Death Eater was placed under immense psychological pressure, their minds filled with all kinds of negative emotions.
Then, the Wizards and Muggles they had once tortured to death appeared one after another, turning the tables on the Death Eaters and tormenting them in return—repaying hatred with hatred, grievances with grievances.
Some Death Eaters completely lost the will to resist. Some tried to beg for mercy, while others could barely still raise their wands and cast one or two Killing Curses.
But all of it was futile. The Death Eaters' enemies were utterly unaffected by the Killing Curses.
After all, they were phantoms buried deep within the hearts of those enemies, death-bringers that had crawled back from hell.
As the Death Eaters left the Mirror of Night one after another and collapsed half-dead onto the ground, a thick air of despair spread through the entire prison, becoming the finest material for Harley's advancement.
Harley had no desire to waste any more effort on this bunch of trash. Tough strands of Spider Silk danced through the air, accompanied by an unceasing spray of blood.
The moment the Death Eaters' blood hit the ground, it was swiftly absorbed completely.
Their souls, too, seemed to be torn apart and devoured by invisible creatures, eventually becoming nourishment for some ritual.
"Half of them are dead. That