Heavenly Demon Descends Upon the World

Voldemort struck first, waving his wand and unleashing a blinding, almost black, deathly light that tore through the air, aiming straight for Dumbledore's heart. At the same instant, Barbarossa swung his wand upwards with tremendous force, sending a powerful Water Dragon rising from the lake.

Herpo raised his hand, and dark purple ancient runes bloomed from his fingertips. The void began to distort, and the earth began to tremble, as if to pull the entire cave and the lake into an endless abyss.

Dumbledore did not retreat.

He turned to the side, his wand tracing a perfect silver arc, and a phantom of Phoenix suddenly unfurled behind him, its golden-red fiery wings instantly illuminating the entire cave. The Killing Curse was devoured by the phantom of the Phoenix, turning into wisps of black smoke and dissipating.

Barbarossa's Water Dragon crashed into the silver light shield that had formed in front of him, unleashing a piercing metallic clang; while Herpo's rune array, upon touching the Phoenix Flame, seemed to be scorched by holy light, emitting a sizzling, corrosive sound.

The lake water was boiling violently, and from its depths came eerie writhing and growling sounds, as if some enormous creature had been awakened.

Dumbledore's movements remained elegant and precise, each swing of his staff like a silent symphony. Yet, facing three beings at the pinnacle of darkness, each defense came at a heavy price—a curse grazed his left shoulder, instantly charring his robes, and sending a searing pain through his flesh; another wisp of black mist coiled around him from the side, and he whirled around, his silver light exploding, but he was still forced back half a step by Barbarossa's spiraling water blades.

"You're old, Dumbledore," Barbarossa sneered, his wand flashing through the air. "Your era should have ended long ago."

Dumbledore gasped for breath, his silver beard trembling slightly in the firelight, yet he still kept his back straight. Herpo alone was not someone he could defeat, but he knew that today he had to fight to the death to get Harry out of here.

"Perhaps," he whispered, "But you still cannot understand the meaning of sacrifice."

As soon as he finished speaking, he suddenly raised his cane.

"Expecto Patronum - Revised!"

An unprecedentedly enormous silver Phoenix soared into the sky from the tip of the staff, its wingspan reaching ten meters, and golden-red flames engulfed the entire cave. The lake was instantly shrouded in rising mist, Voldemort's green light was swallowed up, Barbarossa's Water Dragon evaporated in the flames, and Herpo's rune array emitted a sharp cracking sound.

The canoe shattered into Reductor Curse, splintering wood and water everywhere.

The phantom of the Phoenix, carrying Harry and Dumbledore, forcibly tore open space.

The next moment, they were back at the cave entrance.

The moment his foot touched the ground, Dumbledore's body stiffened abruptly.

The ground lights up.

A complex, insidious, layered magic circle suddenly awakened like a giant spider web. Dark purple runes crawled out from the cracks in the rocks and quickly wrapped around his legs, waist, and chest. A rotten and cloying smell filled the air, like countless souls wailing at the same time.

Dumbledore down and saw the array of runes beneath his feet gradually eroding his magic.

It's a trap.

His voice showed obvious weakness for the first time.

Herpo and his two companions were still separated on the opposite bank by the lake. Without a canoe, they were temporarily unable to cross this bottomless, dark body of water.

Herpo stood on the shore, his black robes billowing slightly in the windless cave. He raised his pale hand, fingertips pointing at Harry. His empty purple eyes held no emotion, yet a low, cold command echoed from the depths of the abyss, "Harry Potter killed Dumbledore."

Harry's body stiffened abruptly.

A cold, sticky, almost living force suddenly surged from the deepest part of his body, like a venomous snake coiling up his spine, bringing a nauseating chill and a sense of loss of control wherever it passed.

His legs moved forward uncontrollably, each step as if pulled by invisible threads. His wand slowly rose, aimed at Dumbledore slumped to the ground. Harry's face was contorted in agony, veins bulging on his forehead, his teeth clenched so tightly they cracked, and a beast-like growl escaped his throat, "Stop! Stop!"

"Admirable willpower, Potter." Herpo's icy voice, as if tangible, pierced through the lake, precisely striking Harry's eardrums and his crumbling sanity. "Your struggle itself is the most tragic proof of your noble character."

Every word Herpo spoke was like a cold key, forcibly unlocking the floodgates of Harry's most reluctant memories.

Yes, he had longed for it—longed to no longer be looked down upon, longed to be revered and looked up to, longed for that terrifying, all-powerful control. The whispers of Dark Arts had initially promised him respect, power, and the ability to no longer hide. He thought he was pursuing the ability to protect his loved ones, but unknowingly, he became addicted to the dark pleasure that power itself brought.

Harry's mind was still desperately resisting. It felt like countless steel needles were churning inside his head, while the evil force from outside was fiercely battling his consciousness, trying to drag his last vestiges of clarity into the mire. Each attempt to regain control of his body brought excruciating pain. He screamed, his voice broken and desperate. "I... I will never let you succeed!"

"But it's all in vain." Herpo's cold laugh froze the air instantly. "The moment you couldn't resist the temptation of Dark Arts and chose to open yourself to it, the mark of greed and depravity was etched into your heart. That so-called 'purity,' that pitiful barrier of 'love' that you had built up, had already crumbled with your own choices."

A sharp, almost suffocating sense of regret suddenly pierced Harry's heart amidst the chaos and agony.

Memories flashed through his mind, the faces of Ron and Hermione constantly appearing in his mind—he thought of Ron, the brother who would always turn back for him and entrust his back to him; he thought of Hermione, the brown-eyed one who believed he would always do the right thing.

They always trusted him so much!

He hoarsely called out their names in his heart, "Ron! Hermione!" trying to use these most familiar syllables as a spell to call back the fearless self he once was, and to find the courage that had almost been swallowed by darkness.

Herpo sneered, his hands flashing as he formed a peculiar hand seal. The earth trembled even more violently, and the lake churned and churned as if swept by the Kraken. Across the lake, Harry's Dark Arts aura surged wildly. "Want to repent now? Too late!"

A cold, malevolent power slowly crept up his spine from his feet. As this familiar force surged forth once more, Harry finally had a belated realization. He roared, "It's you! It's the one who's been speaking in my head! It's you who put this evil magic into my head!"

He was filled with remorse.

What if we hadn't taken that step back then?

What if I had resisted that sweet temptation and accepted a more ordinary and slower pace of growth?

This belated realization, accompanied by excruciating pain, nearly overwhelmed his remaining will. It turned out that the enemy's most lethal weapon was not external manipulation, but the rift he himself had carved into his soul.

He clenched his teeth so tightly that his lower lip bled, but he continued to approach Dumbledore step by step, a dense green light of death gathering at the tip of his wand.

Dumbledore leaned against the stone wall, his silver beard soaked with sweat, and for the first time, a clear weariness and pity appeared in his blue eyes. He looked at Harry without flinching, and simply said softly, "Harry, don't be afraid, remember what I said."

Just as Harry's mental defenses were about to completely collapse, he let out a heart-wrenching scream, "No--!!!"

The sound echoed in the cave, like the mournful cry of a wild beast, or the last desperate struggle of a soul before being completely devoured.

This long howl became the opening Voldemort had been waiting for.

His crimson pupils suddenly lit up, and the fragment of Voldemort's soul—the dark mark that had been embedded in Harry's body since the night of his birth—violated violently. The two soul forces collided, merged, and tore at each other within Harry's body, ultimately becoming one.

The ultimate Horcrux the Dark Horcrux - Heavenly Demon Soul Fusion.

Harry's body convulsed violently, as if being torn apart from the inside by an invisible giant hand. His skin cracked rapidly, oozing a thick, dark green liquid from the fissures, and his bones made a teeth-grinding "crackling" sound. His face twisted Transfiguration; the left half still resembled Harry, but the right half rapidly grew snake scales, one eye was green and the other red, and the pupils split into vertical slits. His hair turned into a clump of writhing, dark green tentacles, and his mouth split open to his ears, revealing layers upon layers of sharp teeth.

The most terrifying change happened behind the scenes.

Starting from the end of the spine, nine thick, black and green giant snakes simultaneously burst forth from the body. Each one was as thick as a bucket, its scales gleaming with a cold, metallic light. The snake heads were ferocious and crazed, their fangs dripping corrosive venom that sizzled on the stone ground. The nine snake heads were raised high, like a living crown, emitting ear-piercing hissing sounds that intertwined into a maddening chorus.

One of the giant snakes suddenly swooped down, its mouth striking Dumbledore's left wrist precisely.

"Ah--" Dumbledore groaned, his face turning deathly pale. His magic was being drained like a burst dam, and silvery light poured from his body into the snake's mouth, where it was eventually devoured by the monster.

His body withered rapidly, and the light in his blue eyes gradually dimmed.

At the same time, the monster that had absorbed all of Dumbledore's power experienced an exponential surge in its magical energy. Its nine serpent heads roared to the sky simultaneously, the cave shook, and the lake boiled.

In the distance, a barely perceptible hint of joy flickered across Herpo's usually impassive face as he coldly observed everything. He said calmly, "The Soul Fusion Ritual is complete. The Heavenly Demon has descended."

Seeing Harry in this state, Dumbledore's pale face was filled with shock and despair. He weakly called Harry's name, as if making a final effort to bring back the boy he once was, "Harry, remember who you are, don't give up on yourself."

The monster let out a sharp, triumphant laugh, like Voldemort's. "Too late. Albus is already a part of me."

Before he could finish speaking, Voldemort's Soul Fragment on the opposite shore of the lake suddenly raised his hand and pointed his wand into the distance.

A blazing red beam of light suddenly tore through the darkness— the Expelliarmus beam swept across the lake at astonishing speed, like a blood-red lightning bolt, heading straight for Dumbledore.

Dumbledore's magic was nearly depleted, and his reaction was a beat too slow. He could only barely raise his right hand, trying to gather the last bit of silver light to block. But the red cursed light was too fast and too powerful. The silver light was shattered the moment it made contact, and the cursed light, still undiminished, was about to strike his chest.

At that very moment--

With a loud bang, the air was forcibly torn open, and a figure stumbled out.

A cold and sharp silver-white barrier suddenly formed in front of Dumbledore, appearing almost touching the red cursed light, with a timing so precise it was chilling.

Boom!

The two magical forces collided head-on, unleashing a deafening roar. The red light was forcibly deflected, but still grazed the edge of the barrier with residual power.

The next second, Dumbledore's Elder Wand trembled violently, as if struck by an invisible giant hand. Before he could even react, the wand that had accompanied him throughout his life and symbolized supreme authority flew out of his hand, drawing a blinding arc in the air before plummeting into the darkness.

The lake water rippled gently, engulfing it.

Let's look back at that figure who appeared just in time.

He was no longer the elegant and composed man he always was. His forehead was covered in sweat, his breathing was noticeably rapid, and the hem of his robe was disheveled, clearly indicating that he had just experienced a series of intense Apparition.

Today, he finally finished one high-level meeting after another at the Ministry of Magic, then went to Ella Cottage to gather all the handmaids and assign them tasks, and finally rushed to the Black Rose Society give instructions to the Seven Dragon Fangs.

After finishing all that, he remembered Dumbledore and Harry, but he didn't know where they had gone. He could only run frantically, repeatedly Apparition across Great Britain —from the Department of Mysteries, from Godric's Hollow, from Riddle House, from Hogwarts— he tried every possible place in the original story where Horcrux might be hidden, before finally following that familiar yet extremely distorted magical fluctuation to get here.

Skylar quickly calmed himself down and composed himself. At the same time, his sharp eyes swept rapidly across the cave, finally making out the scene before him. Unexpectedly, the sight before him caused his pupils to contract sharply, and he froze completely on the spot.

"Harry?" Skylar's voice was filled with disbelief, shock, and trembling.

The boy who once stood shoulder to shoulder with him, who had fought alongside him, was now completely unrecognizable. Nine giant snakes writhed wildly behind him, their twisted faces hissing at him. Harry's remaining half of his face still twitched in agony, and from his throat, he managed to utter a muffled plea. "Skylar killed me."

Skylar's breath hitched, and his heart felt as if it had been struck by a heavy hammer.

He never imagined things would develop this way.

Skylar could no longer maintain his composure. He blinked, trying to confirm if he was hallucinating. He felt like he was going crazy. What was happening here—could this disgusting, insane, deformed monster before him really be Harry Potter, the former Savior?

Voldemort's laughter, sharp and triumphant, erupted from the monster's throat. "Skylar Malfoy, you've come at the perfect time! Come, fight me! Let me show you the final form of my Horcrux."

Skylar's face instantly turned ashen—the idea that Harry was possessed by Voldemort had taken over his mind.

For the first time, Skylar felt such a terrifying pressure emanating from Harry. In his Magic Eye, black magic surged and churned like a tsunami, a ferocity and power he had never seen before. Even when he was in his Celestial form, he was probably inferior to it.

That power had already broken through the realm of Grand Sorcerer and officially entered the almost godlike realm of "Super Magister".

He didn't respond, nor did he linger in the fight. He wasn't confident he could defeat the monstrous Harry, and Dumbledore's situation didn't seem to allow him to be bogged down there.

"I have other matters to attend to. Maybe next time, Voldemort." He swung his staff sharply, and a silver shield of light instantly protected Dumbledore's weakened body. He then scooped up the old man, his robes fluttering in the wind.

"Go!" he roared, and with another loud bang as the Apparition materialized, the spatial rift swallowed the two figures.

The monster let out a deafening roar, and the nine giant snakes lunged at the crevice at the same time, but they only missed.

Inside the cave, only Voldemort's twisted, maniacal laughter remained.

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