Will was a little disappointed.
The reason was simple: the strength of the Aurors, even Scrimgeour, surprised him, and their approach to combat was rigid.
With so much strange and wondrous magic at their disposal, Wizards kept focusing on the same handful of spells.
The Entrail-Expelling Curse could pull a person's organs from their body. The Skinning Curse could strip an animal's hide, so naturally it could strip an opponent's skin. The Conjunctivitis Curse could precisely rob an enemy of sight...
And those were only uses of Jinxes Moody had taught him. Every one of these Aurors clearly wanted to kill him, yet they kept using the same old spells, Stupefy and Petrificus Totalus. Scrimgeour's willingness to use Reducto proved he intended to kill, but even he showed no greater variety.
They had not even used Transfiguration.
Wizards could warp matter, curse souls to death, and leap through space. Yet when it came to fighting, they were this rigid. Even Voldemort and Harry's final battle had come down to two spells colliding head-on...
Was this what magic was?
Leaving aside Voldemort and Harry, two Wizards with extraordinary destinies, how did truly top-tier Wizards fight?
Will did not know yet. He said nothing, merely waved his Wand. Before the astonished Aurors, the flames ahead of him parted to "make way."
"This ends here—Fire God Opens the Way!"
At the sight, a sudden sense of foreboding rose in Scrimgeour's heart.
At that moment, the gravel, soil, and even the ashes of grass and trees left by the flames all began to twist and change shape.
Will moved.
He did not sprint or use Apparition. Scrimgeour stared in shock at the black-robed figure: the ground beneath Will's feet flowed like liquid, carrying him toward Scrimgeour. Between the parted flames, he shot forward like