HP: Fantastic Beasts And The Right Way To Use Them - 310

Chapter 310: The Sinister, Wicked, Peerless Dark Lady

Staring at the line of heavy-armoured knights, the already terrified dove leader backed all the way into the corner of the space. If it had known how to leave, it would have fled on the spot.

Sothia, however, did not notice the dove’s panic at all. She looked down the corridor, and the corner of her mouth slowly lifted.

“Let’s see how much power you can afford to waste.”

As she spoke, Sothia flicked her hand lightly. The heavily armoured knights, standing bolt upright, began to march forward in slow but unwavering steps.

The instant they entered the corridor, the same attacks that had destroyed the watery silhouette earlier erupted again. Countless fireballs mixed with the glare of curses, streaking toward the knights and exploding into brilliant bursts of flame at the corridor entrance.

Knights struck by fireballs instantly turned into water vapour. Those hit by curses were gradually stained a dark green and melted away.

A whole row of more than a dozen heavily armoured knights did not last even a few seconds. They all dispersed, leaving only puddles on the floor to prove they had ever existed.

But that was only the beginning.

Sothia did not care in the slightest about losing a dozen of them. She beckoned again, and an even greater volume of water drifted out of the waterfall and poured into the water sphere in front of her.

Then, one after another, heavy-armoured knights with lances stepped out of the sphere and marched forward.

Every step triggered another cluster of preset traps. Curses, fireballs, even gigantic axe blades swung from absurd angles. Each burst of attacks erased countless knights in midair.

Yet compared with the endless stream of knights Sothia produced, the traps were pitifully few. In less than half a minute, the knights had carved out a safe route nearly a hundred metres long, and they kept pushing forward.

By rights, even pre-set traps should carry rules to counter Transfiguration, preventing a master from using conjured creations to bypass the mechanisms unharmed. But a spring nymph’s water avatars were each a part of herself. They were not “created objects” at all, so there was nothing for those rules to counter.

It was a shame that water tainted by curses could no longer be recalled, but it did not matter. With that waterfall here, there was as much water as she could ever want.

Looking at the corridor ahead, now quiet near the entrance, and listening to the explosions still echoing from deeper within, Sothia waved her hand. The water sphere began to roll forward. At the same time, she reached out, snatched up the dove leader that had been cowering to one side, and vigorously rubbed it a few times in her arms.

“Come on. Let’s go see what good stuff is hidden in here.”

“Such a beautiful child.”

In the middle of the pasture, a kind-faced old woman was stroking the neck of a hippogriff. Her eyes brimmed with warmth, and she kept patting here and kneading there, her face full of open affection.

The hippogriff did not seem to appreciate it. It held its head high, looking smug and aloof. But rather than discouraging the old woman, that attitude only made her look even more delighted.

To her, this hippogriff seemed a little different from the one she remembered. It was larger and more imposing, and in the earlier fight it had displayed abilities far beyond an ordinary hippogriff.

Not only it. The other magical creatures playing not far away also seemed to have changed in small ways, and that made her intensely curious.

Was it simply that nearly a thousand years had altered magical creatures? Or did Merlin’s inheritor possess abilities that differed from Merlin’s in certain ways? She wanted to understand the reason behind these changes.

Perhaps the attention had finally become irritating. Anka the hippogriff flicked its neck in displeasure. It did not understand how this elderly human woman could be fighting them a moment ago, then suddenly start acting like this in the blink of an eye.

Could this be some sort of plot? Was she trying to ambush it?

Still, the massage did feel remarkably good. It was comfortable.

Fine. Let her keep going for now. When it stopped being comfortable, it would resist.

On the other side of the pasture, Evans crouched down and studied the mass of mist sealed by lines of blood-red patterns. Not far from him, a richly dressed woman floated in midair, watching Hufflepuff in the centre of the pasture with a thoughtful expression.

Earlier, while fighting that Hufflepuff wreathed in black fog, Evans kept staring at the mist around her and feeling it looked familiar. In the end, he had simply called the Dark Wizard King and asked her to help suppress the mist for a moment.

As expected, specialist work was best handled by a specialist. The Dark Wizard King appeared and immediately pinned down the mist beside Hufflepuff. In under half a minute, she drew all of it out and sealed it into this lump.

Evans prodded the sealed mass of mist and asked curiously, “What even is this thing? I remember there was a ring of it around your pyramid too, and it could turn into those things that wouldn’t die.”

“Those were my people, not ‘things that wouldn’t die’,” the Dark Wizard King corrected coolly. “I simply have ways to ensure they are not completely destroyed by ordinary attacks.”

She looked at the mist and explained quietly, “This is malice, a collection of negative emotions. Among ancient wizards, only a very small number had the talent to control malice. It can be a special form of mental attack, and it can also serve as an energy source for many spells and artefacts. It is one of the foundations of ancient dark magic.”

“Only a very small number can control it?” Evans poked the grey-black mist again. “Do I have that talent?”

The Dark Wizard King shot him a flat look. “Talent aside, to control malice, you first have to create enough negative emotion. It can come from yourself or from others, but there has to be enough of it to form at all.”

“So what is the plan? Start a bloody massacre, or torture yourself until your family falls apart, then use your own negative emotions?”

“Let’s not,” Evans said at once, shaking his head hard. He felt his current strength was already more than sufficient. Even if he met someone he could not beat, he could always call in reinforcements. There was no need for this flashy external power.

But if all malice had to be created like that…

Evans glanced at the woman floating beside him and could not help shivering.

Perhaps she noticed what he was thinking. The Dark Wizard King clicked her tongue and said with a sigh, “Those are methods for Dark wizards with no backing. My first strand of malice was a gift from my teacher. There was nothing so dramatic behind it.”

Evans relaxed a little. “Good. For a moment I thought I’d let out some sinister, wicked, peerless Dark lady…”

“But the malice after that,” she said, fixing him with a distinctly unfriendly gaze, “was something I carved out myself.”

She lifted her hand slightly. A coil of mist twined around her palm.

“Now, what was it you just called me?”