"Do you still have the mind to listen to Weasley's jokes?" Draco said coldly. "Watch that skeleton! Even now, he still hasn't been hurt!"
At Draco's reminder, everyone turned their attention to the sky once more.
Just as Draco had said, neither the scorching flames, the bitter cold, nor the tearing force of raging winds, sand, golden light, and thunder combined had truly harmed "My Lord."
Although every collision between those figures sent the flames surrounding "My Lord" into violent upheaval, and every strike briefly stalled his movements, that was all they achieved.
The fine cracks in the bones of "My Lord" would mend in an instant, while the weakened flames would blaze anew.
Everything seemed to indicate...
"My Lord" seemed utterly impossible to destroy.
Cedric said with difficulty, "No wonder his body became the moon..."
"Was it because he couldn't be destroyed that his body was... exiled outside, so he couldn't come into contact with it?"
At Cedric's words, everyone swallowed in unison.
At that very moment, a glimmer of light abruptly entered the corner of their eyes.
They all looked toward it and saw Wizet raising his wand, a brilliant white light blooming at its tip.
Intense magical fluctuations filled the magical energy field. Rather than spreading outward from Wizet, they were drawn by an invisible force, converging in his direction.
The magical energy field converging on Wizet gave everyone a peculiar sensation.
Neither the magical fluctuations created when Voldemort, Dumbledore, and Gellert Grindelwald fought, nor those created when Dumbledore's group of three besieged "My Lord," had given them such a feeling.
What they had felt before were more like invisible currents of wind, while the magical fluctuations now gathering toward Wizet were like a river.
The magical fluctuations flowed past them, making them feel as though they