The Mysterious Cave

There was a reason the black-robed wizards from the Department of Mysteries had not found Ian and the fallen god where Ian had destroyed Gringotts.

Their battlefield had indeed originally been there.

However.

Ten minutes earlier.

An unexpected development had occurred in the battle.

At that time, the air was thick with the pungent stench of gunpowder smoke and scorched magical energy, mixed with the lingering, inescapable foul aura emanating from the fallen god itself.

"I can't tell which pantheon this fellow's divine arts come from." Ian's breathing was slightly rushed—not from fear, but from the strain of sustained magical output and mental confrontation. Even so, the wand in his hand remained steady, its tip flashing with ever-changing light as it responded to attacks of different attributes.

"Why can't you simply accept your fate! Your resistance is blasphemy against the gods! We protected you for so long, and now we merely want you to offer up your life!"

"What right do you have to resist!"

This thing was actually lecturing him.

The fallen god—that twisted humanoid shell—floated in the middle of the battered passageway, greed and fury blazing in its scarlet eyes.

Its attacks were direct and violent. Every gesture summoned waves of foul divine power, solid as substance, crashing relentlessly against the layered defenses Ian had erected.

"Touch of Decay!" the fallen god roared. A gray-black beam of energy lunged forward like a venomous serpent, devouring and withering even the light in its path.

"Protego: Multi-Layer Reinforcement!"

Ian flicked his wand rapidly, and several magical shields shimmering with different elemental hues—frost blue, flame red, earth yellow...—instantly layered themselves before him in a seven-colored barrier.

This was why it was called innovative magic. Drawing from the games he had played in his previous life, Ian had developed elemental defenses, something