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Chapter 46: The Reveal.
🕑 Added 2025-04-21 09:06:32 +0000 UTCAuthor’s Note:
Longest chapter to date, and honestly, I don’t think I’ll be writing many more this long. This one was exhausting. Like… my hands actually hurt right now, lol.
Either way, I genuinely hope you guys enjoy the chapter, and as always, let me know what you think!
Bonus cookie for any theories, especially about what happened during Eli’s fight near the end, what you think his mother might be, and who the mystery POV belongs to. (last one is the easiest)
I won’t spoil anything, but I’m really curious to see what you all come up with!
Celestial Ascendancy
Chapter 46: The Reveal.
Little Hangleton.
Elias Black.
The moment we arrived, I took in the graveyard. Thanks to my enhanced senses and processing speed, I instantly cataloged everything.
Almost everyone turned our way, everyone except Voldemort and Iris. But none of them spoke.
The Death Eaters were too focused on the duel unfolding in front of them, while the woman standing a few feet off to the side stared directly at me, her mouth slightly parted in shock.
The first thing I noticed, and I didn’t let myself ignore it, was the woman leaning against a tree.
She looked young, older than us, obviously, but still noticeably young. She had a small frame and a mess of colorful ribbons tied into her long hair. Her outfit… Well, it was the kind I’d come to expect from women in the supernatural world if they followed Hentai Logic.
There was no better way to describe it. A gothic Lolita dress. Black, elaborate, and entirely out of place in the Wizarding World.
I didn’t let her out of my sight, not even for a second, but that didn’t stop me from checking everything else.
Fifteen Death Eaters give or take. Far more than I’d expected.
Most of them were meaningless rabble, and only two of them stood up personally.
Lucius Malfoy, because of politics. And Pettigrew, mainly for vengeance.
“Oh, Tom…” Dumbledore murmured beside me. “What have you done in this mad quest?”
“He’s an idiot,” I grunted, eyes still scanning the field. “And he’s brought things that should’ve stayed buried.”
My gaze finally snapped to the center.
To the duel… To her.
Iris stood trembling, her legs buckling, her wand barely held in her fingers. Magic surged between her and Voldemort, a beam of gold and green crackling between their wands.
Her lips were parted in a scream I couldn’t hear, and her body looked seconds away from collapse. She looked so… vulnerable and afraid, but even with that kind of fear, she looked ready to give her all against the bastard who ruined her life all those years ago.
But she was still standing… Of course she was; she was Iris fucking Potter. My Iris.
And that bastard was about to kill her.
I didn’t hesitate.
My magic surged.
Divine light gathered in my palm. Aetherium flared through my veins like fire wrapped in sunlight. It didn’t roar. It didn’t scream. It simply was.
I raised my hand.
I watched, almost smirking, as the thin strand of sunlight, thinner than a strand of my own hair, sank into Voldemort’s shoulder.
I grinned when I saw Iris giving it everything she had, her magic flaring as she roared with all her might and finally shattered the connection between their wands.
“Priori Incantatem,” Dumbledore murmured with a nod. “Well done, Elias.”
I nodded once, then vanished from view.
The second Iris collapsed, I was already there.
I caught her before she hit the ground and reached into my robes for the small vial of Ash’s tears I always carried. She gulped it down greedily and immediately pulled herself into me, hugging me as tight as she could manage.
Iris was supposed to have one, too, but I realized why she hadn’t used it. A quick pat down revealed the shattered remains of the vial, probably crushed in the scuffle.
I grimaced. We really should’ve made those unbreakable. It was good that I always carried a couple with me.
“I knew you’d come, Eli,” she whispered, beaming as she grabbed the back of my neck and pulled me in.
Her lips were cracked and salty, with a slight taste of blood, but I didn’t care. I welcomed the warmth of her body against mine, the weight of her relief mixing with mine.
“I’ll always come for you, love,” I murmured against her lips, resting my forehead against hers. “Sorry it took so long… that bastard made a monster out of one of his followers and sent it to slow me down. Maybe even kill me. I’m not sure.”
Iris snorted softly, easing out of the hug. “He sent it to kill you,” she muttered. “But I’m glad he failed.”
A cough drew our attention. Dumbledore cleared his throat, his eyes never leaving Voldemort, who was now fully recovered and standing tall once more.
And… yeah. He wasn’t what I expected.
The monstrous, twisted face I remembered was nowhere in sight… no red eyes, no snake-like features, not the foreboding feeling I had expected to feel.
He looked like an older version of the boy I’d seen in the Chamber of Secrets memory, taller, leaner, but undeniably human.
His shoulder was already healing.
I had come here expecting a difficult fight. Maybe even something brutal. But I’d also expected to have the upper hand in at least one aspect. My holy magic.
Now? Now, I wasn’t sure.
That body… it wasn’t a Dark construct. He’d somehow built himself a vessel free of the usual corruption. Something closer to divine than demonic.
Probably thanks to Walburga, who was still watching me from across the graveyard, her eyes locked on mine, her expression unreadable but definitely unhinged.
I just knew there was something wrong with that woman. It was probably the name.
Voldemort smiled, his eyes flashing red. “Headmaster Dumbledore… how gracious of you to join us.”
“This is unacceptable, Tom,” Dumbledore said, his voice heavy with sadness. “Just how far will you go in your pursuit of power?”
“I will do whatever is necessary,” Voldemort hissed, his voice low and sharp. “And I see you’ve brought company. Elias Blake... I had hoped you’d arrive to find the girl’s cooling corpse. But I suppose the late Lord Nott wasn’t enough of a distraction. Did the old man deal with him for you?”
I gave him a deadpan look and said nothing.
After ensuring Iris was stable and standing firm, I took a slow breath.
“You’ll be my opponent, woman,” I said, turning toward Walburga with a glare. “But I have something to take care of first.”
Walburga grinned viciously. “I’ll wait as long as you need, my Elias.”
I rolled my eyes. “Not yours, you crazy bitch,” I muttered and turned away.
“Be careful, Headmaster,” I warned. “You can feel the difference, can’t you? That thing standing there isn’t just Voldemort anymore.”
Dumbledore glanced at his former student, and there was pity in his eyes. Still... Even now.
That pity was going to get him hurt one day, maybe even killed.
I didn’t understand how he could still feel sympathy for someone so far gone. But now wasn’t the time for that conversation.
I squeezed Iris’s hand gently. “You ready, love?”
She nodded, her lips pressed into a firm line. “Yeah.”
“Good,” I said softly.
And then I vanished.
No words, no warning.
In the blink of an eye, I was behind Pettigrew.
He barely had time to squeak before I grabbed his pale wand arm by the elbow and crushed it with my full strength. The bone shattered with a sickening snap, and before he could scream, I channeled fire into the wound, burning and cauterizing the injury in one motion.
He dropped like a sack of bricks.
“Have fun, love,” I said, casually tossing him toward Iris like trash. “Just keep him alive. We still have use for him.”
I ordered Ash to cover Iris’s back while she was busy, and then, I finally turned my attention to Walburga.
She stood there with her back straight, the wind pulling at her robes like it was a paid actor. Her aura felt stronger and denser than mine, but I didn’t let that stop me. She wasn’t using her Sacred Gear yet. Instead, her hands moved in specific patterns before a magical circle sprang to life in front of her.
I frowned. Was she playing with me? Did she really think she could defeat me with just this?
If I was being honest with myself… I was a little insulted.
Lightning hissed against the spot I’d just vacated, white thunder cracking the ground where I’d been. The spell was intense, almost comparable to Akeno’s, but I knew Walburga was capable of much, much more.
The next bolt came faster. I batted it aside with a flick of my hand, a bright golden wall forming in the air and stopping it cold. My eyes flicked back to Iris.
She was laughing, her hair whipping wildly in the strange wind that had settled over the graveyard. She dodged a hex, countered, and slammed her opponent into the dirt with a chained Stunner and Disarming Curse combo. There were four bodies on the ground already, not counting Pettigrew.
Iris grinned, then began pacing toward the rest like a predator.
She had grown not just in strength but in confidence, too. There was a sharpness to her now that hadn’t been there before, and that wasn’t even getting into how much stronger her magic had become in just these few hours. I didn’t know how it happened, but pride burned in my chest anyway.
If she was giving it her all, then there was no reason for me to hold back.
In a single motion, I blurred forward... far faster than before. My body shimmered faintly with light as I pushed the small amount of Touki I had into full activation.
What most people ignored was that Touki enhanced the user's basic stats, and my body was special in its own way. Even with this limited amount, I could make miracles.
I slammed into Walburga, my hand closing around her throat. The impact cratered the ground beneath us. She gasped, her throat raw, screaming as I dragged us both upward, hundreds of feet into the air, before diving down again.
My knee crashed into her chest as we hit the ground, and she spat out a glob of blood on impact.
We landed on a charred hillock not far from the others, still within reach if Iris needed help, but far enough that no one would interrupt what came next.
Walburga grunted, her magic rising around her like a molten halo.
“You have no idea what you’re playing with, boy,” she whispered.
And then it came.
The air warped, and sound fled. A sacred piece ignited around us, and a giant purple cross flared to life behind her. My chest tightened, I could barely breathe.
Her body burst into purple fire.
No... not just fire, and not just flame. Divine combustion, an ancient judgment made manifest. The world itself seemed to recoil against her presence.
I raised my palm, the Aetherium flowing through my veins like liquid sunlight. I could already feel it gathering, building toward what would easily be the most brutal fight of my life.
My body shone with golden light, like a star descending to earth.
“You’re not the only one who’s special, Walburga,” I said... and the ground screamed.
Purple flames met golden light.
Her attack struck like a comet, and my Aetherium Solar Magic surged to meet it. The air exploded in a sphere of burning brilliance, scorching the clouds, flattening the trees, and vaporizing everything between us.
For a heartbeat, I couldn’t see her. Just her fire, just my light, just our pressure.
Then she stepped through it.
Her hair was burning. Her eyes gleamed with violet fire.
And I?
I moved forward to meet her. My shirt had already been destroyed in the first clash, and my skin now glowed like a star. Touki flared through every fiber of muscle just to hold me together.
I gritted my teeth, the heat pressing against me from all sides, but I forced myself to focus.
Behind us, I could feel Dumbledore faltering.
I turned my head slightly, just enough to catch a glimpse of Voldemort smugly taunting the Headmaster, who was visibly limping during their duel. Fawkes soared overhead, spitting golden globes of flame at Voldemort, who dodged them with casual grace before retaliating with a blackish crimson spell.
I had no idea what it was, but just looking at it made my skin crawl.
I shook my head and turned back to Walburga.
I needed to do something and fast.
I could feel the pressure building, the weight of our combined magic cracking the place we stood.
The heat, the divine weight of Walburga’s magic, the unstable magic in the air... it was all intensifying. This wasn’t the kind of battle anyone should be near, especially not Iris. She was strong, yes, but this was different. This wasn’t a standard wizards duel; this was a fight against a Longinus and whatever bullshit I could be considered to be.
The others didn’t matter. The awake Death Eaters were nothing. Voldemort and Dumbledore? They’d feel it and move if they had to. But Iris? she was still too close.
She shouldn’t be here for this.
Through the bond, I reached out. Ash, take her. Take Iris and Pettigrew to the Hollow, now.
There was a pause, a flicker of acknowledgment, and then Ash appeared in a burst of white flame not far from Iris. I glanced that way briefly, just long enough to see Iris’s eyes widen before Ash wrapped a talon around her and vanished. Two nearby Death Eaters were caught in the flare and dragged along with them.
Voldemort noticed, and his wand flicked.
Two beams of death arced through the air, and the last closest Death Eaters dropped dead before Ash could pull them through the teleport.
But Iris was gone to my Hollow. And that was what really mattered.
Rita’s there anyway, I mused absently. She’ll be taking pictures like I asked. They won’t be able to stay hidden this time.
With that out of the way, I turned back to Walburga, and now, I didn’t hold back.
We both moved at once, a sharp increase in speed, power, and intensity. Light and flame clashed again and again, spells too fast to even see bursting against shields and barriers in streaks of color.
The ground shook, and trees cracked. The magical pressure alone brought the remaining Death Eaters to their knees.
But even now, even with our battle escalating… something was missing.
They weren’t going all out. Not yet. She still hadn’t unleashed the full weight of the Incinerate Anthem. And even though he was beginning to tap into more potent spells, I wasn’t using the Grimoire or calling on the deeper layers of Aetherium either.
We were still holding back.
“Why?” I asked the insane woman during a brief lull, golden light flaring around my arm as I deflected another blazing curse. “Why are you holding back?”
Walburga didn’t answer directly. Her eyes burned with darkness, but her expression gave nothing away.
She simply smiled and attacked again, harder.
Iris Potter.
As soon as I landed in the middle of the wasteland inside the Hollow, I turned sharply. I saw the flash of fear in Rita’s face at the expression I must’ve been wearing.
Without thinking, I raised my wand and sent the strongest Bombarda I could manage against the half-destroyed mountain. The explosion echoed with force, and I couldn’t help but grin a little at the destruction I was capable of.
Nowhere near Eli… not even Akeno… but still, way more than before.
“Fuck!” I shouted, letting it all out. “Eli, you bastard! Why did you send me away?!”
I dropped down onto the floor, my breathing still rough. The knocked-out Death Eaters were sprawled around me like trash.
Rita flinched at my tone but stayed quiet. Ash lingered nearby, her head slightly tilted, as if she was unsure if I was upset with her, too.
In truth, I was... but I also understood. I didn’t blame either of them. Breathing had already become hard before Eli whisked me away, and I knew it was only going to get worse from there. Still... I just hoped they’d burned a couple of Death Eaters to cinders while I was gone.
“Fine,” I bit out, clenching my fists. “I’ll stay away... but not for long.”
I turned to Rita. “Rita, take photos. Everything you can. Focus on Peter Pettigrew. I don’t want the fucking Ministry trying to bury this shit.”
She nodded quickly and got to work, the camera flashing rapidly as she moved through the rubble. She focused primarily on the traitor, zooming in on the Dark Mark still seared into his remaining arm. I could tell she took some sick joy in it.
I crossed my arms, foot tapping restlessly as I waited. I wasn’t exactly thrilled to have her here, but Eli and Uncle Arcturus had their reasons.
Still, I hated being sent away—so much. It made me feel weak and unworthy of being with the love of my life.
Once Rita finished, I turned back to Ash.
“Ash, sweetie… I’m not mad, I promise,” I sighed, reaching up to gently stroke her beak. “But I need to do something. Take us back to school.”
Ash tilted her head, her golden eyes warm as she nipped my finger lightly. Then, without a sound, she extended one glowing wing.
In the next heartbeat, we were standing just outside the Hogwarts gates.
The grounds were pure chaos, even worse than I remembered. Civilians were running around like headless chickens, students shouting, and some professors trying to keep things under control.
“Stay close,” I told Rita, my voice hard now. “And do anything... anything you can to make sure they don’t bury what happened tonight.”
She didn’t argue, not this time.
I sprinted toward the infirmary, thanking Merlin for every brutal training session Sai had dragged us through. My legs carried me fast, and I burst through the doors within minutes.
Relief hit me like a wave. Hermione, Fleur, Ginny, Ron. All there and all safe.
Fleur was biting her lip in worry, but it was Hermione who nearly broke me.
Her face was streaked with ruined mascara, eyes red from crying. Her hair was a mess, and she looked like she hadn’t taken a full breath since I vanished.
And yet... I smiled when I saw the damp patch on Fleur’s blouse. She’d clearly comforted Hermione through it all. She really was a great addition to the group.
Our reunion was warm.
Hermione threw her arms around me the moment I stepped in, nearly knocking me over.
“You’re okay,” she sobbed, her voice cracking. “Thank Merlin, love. I was so scared when I saw Walburga take you away.”
“I’m fine,” I breathed out, holding her tight. “It was... intense. But Eli got there in time.”
Ash flew from my shoulder and glided straight toward Madam Pomfrey and Madam Pranitha without needing a word. A single golden tear slipped from her eye, caught delicately in a vial before it was passed along.
Pranitha nodded, already moving toward Neville.
His arm was mangled—practically unrecognizable. But the second the phoenix tear touched it, golden light pulsed over the injury. Bones realigned, and flesh knit itself whole.
I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding.
Neville had tried his best to help, and he deserved the best in return. I’d talk to Susan before the term ended; he deserved something for this.
Then, the doors burst open.
The professors arrived first, McGonagall, Flitwick, Snape, Sprout, and Sinistra, each one storming in a hurry, bombarding me with questions.
I barely knew where to begin.
And then came the Minister.
Cornelius Fudge waddled in, looking flustered and, of course, being followed by that awful woman who was right behind him. Dolores Umbridge. The one that tried to get Eli in trouble.
“Miss Potter,” Fudge began, his voice dripping with false concern. “What happened? How did you manage to return? Who was that woman that took you...”
“Shut up,” I snapped.
The room fell silent.
“I don’t have time for this, Minister. People could be dying right now,” I said firmly. “Voldemort is back, and he’s fighting the Headmaster.”
My voice shook at the memory of that bastard's rebirth. The way he’d used my blood for that blasted ritual... it still made my skin crawl.
“And Eli is facing the psycho who kidnapped me.”
Hermione gasped beside me, a hand flying to her mouth.
The professors turned pale; some even staggered at Voldemort's name.
Fudge, of course, puffed up like a human toad.
“Now see here, young lady! That kind of accusation...”
“You’re pathetic,” I cut in coldly. “I don’t care if you believe me or not. It’s the truth. And no matter what you say, I’m returning to help whoever I can.”
He opened his mouth, face already purpling like Uncle Vernon mid-tantrum, but before he could explode, the infirmary doors opened again.
Madam Bones strode in with Tonks and the dark-skinned Auror I remembered from the World Cup. Their wands were already drawn.
“And where exactly are you going back to?” Bones asked, calm but firm. “What is this chaos about, Miss Potter?”
“Voldemort is back,” I growled. “Stronger than before. I watched his rebirth with my own eyes; the bastard used my blood.”
“Are you absolutely certain?” she asked, deadly serious.
“For fuck’s sake, yes!” I shouted. “We can’t just sit here and do nothing. There are people out there who’ll get caught in the crossfire. That whole village could be wiped out if we don’t act.”
Bones stared at me for a second longer. Then nodded sharply.
“What do you want to do?”
“We can’t interfere with their fight,” I said, pacing now. “Voldemort... he’s stronger than Dumbledore. Not by a small margin, either. But with the Headmaster’s experience, he should be able to keep him busy. The real problem is the woman who kidnapped me.”
I hesitated, then added quietly, “She’s dangerous. Elias is good... great, even, but I don’t know how long he can keep her locked down. We need to get the people of Little Hangleton out. Now.”
Ash returned to me, soft light rippling off her feathers as she perched on my shoulder. Her gentle hum filled the room, calming the storm in my chest.
“Very well,” Bones said. “Tonks, Shacklebolt. With me.”
She tapped her robe and spoke into a small communicator stitched into the hem. “I want Aurors on standby. Have them prepare to Apparate to Little Hangleton on my signal.”
The group came together quickly. Hermione, Fleur, Bones, Tonks, Shacklebolt, McGonagall, Flitwick and Pranitha.
“Severus, Sinistra, Pomona,” McGonagall barked, her Scottish brogue slipping out. “Keep the school running while we’re gone.”
The professors nodded. Snape even glanced at me with something like... concern?
Ash extended her wings, wrapping magic around all of us. It wasn’t easy for the baby. The strain was clear on her body. But with a soft grunt, she took us there... To the outskirts of Little Hangleton.
The second we landed, we all staggered.
Every single one of us dropped to our knees under the pressure.
The magical force in the air was crushing.
The very sky screamed with power.
And it didn’t feel like midnight anymore.
No…
The sun had descended on Britain.
—Scene—
The air felt too thick to breathe, like we’d just stepped into the center of a magical storm tearing at the seams of reality.
I gritted my teeth and forced myself upright, but I could see Fleur clutching her head, her eyes wide with pain, small feathers beginning to bloom across her arms. Even Flitwick, the diminutive professor who never seemed rattled by anything, looked pale and unsteady.
“What on earth are we feeling?” he whispered.
It was magic… raw, unfiltered, and ancient.
Not the kind we studied. Not the kind we were used to.
No... this was a battle between titans.
Bones pulled a pair of omnioculars from her coat and focused them toward the graveyard. I couldn’t see what she was seeing, but I could tell by how her mouth opened and the color drained from her face that it wasn’t good.
“What can you see, Madam Bones?” I asked, already dreading the answer.
If things had been bad before Elias sent me away… they didn’t compare to now.
“Dumbledore…” she whispered. Her voice barely cut through the buzzing in the air. “He’s losing. Bleeding. I think his wand arm is broken. Voldemort isn’t finishing him... he’s toying with him.”
My fists clenched at my sides. I wanted to be surprised... but I wasn’t.
I’d felt Voldemort after his rebirth. He felt worse than Dumbledore, significantly worse. I just hoped the megalomaniacal bastard kept playing with his prey a little longer.
“What about the Death Eaters?” Tonks asked. She was panting, her hair cycling through colors so quickly I could barely track them. Her scalp was drenched in sweat, and her robes stuck to her skin like glue.
Shacklebolt wasn’t any better. He stared at the sky, at the sun, with wide eyes and an open mouth.
“They’re not there,” Bones said, shaking her head. “I can’t see any of them.”
“So they escaped or died,” I muttered. “I recognized some. Maybe that’ll help later.”
Bones slowly turned the binoculars, and her breath hitched.
She didn’t speak right away. None of us did.
We didn’t need her words to feel what she was seeing.
That presence. That weight.
“It’s the boy,” she finally said, voice trembling. “Elias Blake.”
We looked up, and we saw it.
The sun in the sky nearly blinded us.
A literal sun.
Nothing like what he used in practice. This was… real. Alive.
It hovered above the graveyard, pulsing with divine golden light and firing searing beams downward onto the battlefield below.
Midnight? That was long gone.
Night had been swallowed whole; even the stars were gone. Drowned out by Elias’s creation.
Every few seconds, a blinding flash erupted as another beam shot downward, and the ground howled beneath our feet each time.
“And the woman?” Hermione asked, her voice shaking.
“She’s still standing,” Bones replied quietly. “And as terrifying as the boy.”
Another boom rang out. And I swear I saw the air itself tremble.
Even from this distance, the vibrations were strong enough to rattle houses. Windows had already shattered, and walls were cracking under the stress.
“They’re not wizards,” Fleur whispered in awe. “They’re natural disasters.”
“No,” I grunted. “She might be... but Eli is our protector.”
No one replied.
McGonagall clutched her chest, lips moving soundlessly as she stared at the sky.
Madam Pranitha had her hands pressed in prayer, but she was already scanning the area despite the oppressive pressure in the air.
“I always knew he was special,” she murmured with a grin like she was enjoying this. “I’m glad this journey was so enlightening.”
Bones shot her a glare sharp enough to cut marble. Pranitha had the decency to look sheepish, but she said nothing more.
Another beam of light struck down, and the ground beneath our feet shook.
Hard.
An old brick fence nearby toppled over. We heard the crack of splintering stone, followed by the terrified screams of civilians still trapped in their homes.
“We need to help them,” I said, snapping out of the trance, motioning toward the village.
Bones nodded once. “Everyone split into pairs. Evacuate whoever you can. Don’t engage with anything that looks out of place. If you see either of them... run. That’s an order.”
She tapped her wand and cast a wide-area comm. “I need reinforcements in Little Hangleton. No rookies. I repeat, only the best. Grayson, Reed, Scrimgeour. Maybe Dawlish, if his shield work’s still sharp.”
A pop echoed nearby, and someone Apparated in mid-message.
A young man. Fresh-faced, I even recognized him from Hogwarts. Just barely graduated from the school. Nothing special.
“Where do you need me, ma’am?!” he shouted, clearly trying to sound brave.
And then he dropped.
Eyes rolled back. Froth bubbled from his mouth like he’d been hit by Cruciatus and a Legilimency probe at once by Voldemort himself.
Tonks caught him before he face-planted into the dirt.
“Get him out!” Bones barked.
Flitwick raised his wand and summoned a ward dome around us just in time to block the hail of debris raining down from above, not from a spell... from the tremor. One of the nearby houses tilted and then collapsed entirely.
Screams rang out again.
Fleur sprinted ahead, her wand slashing through the air as she cast levitation and cushioning charms over a group of elderly villagers trying to crawl free from a broken porch. Hermione joined her. The two of them moved like they’d been training for this for years.
Tonks and Shacklebolt cleared a retreat route toward the Apparition zone we’d marked earlier, as far from the graveyard as possible.
I didn’t think. I just moved.
A little girl clung to my robes, her face streaked with tears and Ash. I scooped her up and ran, heart pounding, eyes flicking up toward the battlefield, where the sun still burned in defiance of the night.
And even from here… I could hear Walburga screaming.
When we regrouped at the Apparition point, Bones looked up one last time and muttered under her breath, “Merlin, help us if he ever turns that power on the wrong target.”
I didn’t answer.
Not because I didn’t want to defend my Eli.
But because… I couldn’t.
The air shifted.
Something changed.
Not a surge of magic. No, this couldn't be called a spell.
This was something cosmic.
My magic recoiled, and my bones ached. The world screamed.
And then, we saw it.
A pillar... no. A behemoth, a dragon of pure purple fire, erupted from the battlefield.
No… it wasn’t even fire anymore.
It was divine fury. A tornado of judgment spiraled upward with enough force to consume the sky.
It rose so high it almost swallowed the sun Elias had made.
The earth cracked. The air ripped. The village began to collapse, street by street.
Chimneys crumbled. Trees snapped in half from the shockwave and turned to Ash from the heat.
Fleur screamed and grabbed the nearest wall.
McGonagall fell to her knees, tears in her eyes.
I stumbled, barely managing to keep hold of the girl in my arms.
Hermione’s face twisted in horror... pure, soul-breaking horror.
“ELIAS!!” she screamed with all her strength.
“Don’t die…” I whispered, unable to look away. “Please, love… don’t die…”
Tears slipped down my cheeks and evaporated midair from the heat.
We could feel it coming—the edge of the flames, the trumpets in the air, like the apocalypse had arrived.
We should’ve died.
Every one of us should have been reduced to cinders.
A wall of ice rose, Elias’s last-ditch effort. But it shattered in seconds, crushed under the sheer might of Walburga’s divine wrath.
But then, another wall rose.
From the treeline nearby, a second wall of ice surged upward.
Clear, glittering, and impossibly cold.
Faint runes shimmered along its surface.
It curved upward like a glacier forming midair, and this one held.
It wasn’t Elias’s.
It wasn’t anything we recognized.
Someone else had intervened, someone powerful.
We all stared at it wide-eyed.
“What the hell…?” Tonks whispered.
I didn’t answer.
Because I knew that Elias wasn’t the only one rewriting the rules tonight.
Elias black.
The sun burned overhead, searing the sky with golden brilliance. My breath came in ragged gasps, my muscles screaming from exhaustion even as my magic healed me second by second. Each exchange with Walburga was fierce, violent, and desperate, like nothing I had ever experienced before.
We traded blows, divine fire meeting celestial light, and the world around us fractured with every collision. I felt alive… more alive than I'd ever felt, even though I knew one wrong move would end me.
But as the battle stretched on, I noticed something odd.
Walburga's expression shifted. Gone was the psychotic amusement, replaced by… hesitation? Regret? It was subtle, a fleeting shadow across her face, but I saw it clearly.
"What's the matter, Walburga?" I taunted, wiping blood from my mouth. "Having second thoughts? Maybe realizing you bit off more than you can chew?"
She flinched visibly, eyes blazing with fury. "You arrogant little brat," she snarled, magic flaring violently around her. "I don’t care what you are anymore! I just want to crush you!”
Eyes wild in anger, I grinned to myself. The angrier she got, the more openings she had.
She lunged at me faster than before, her flames tearing through the air like the claws of an angry god. I barely evaded, feeling the heat scorch my skin. My hand snapped forward instinctively, and my sword flashed, glowing with divine might.
Her scream filled the graveyard as my blade cleaved through her wrist, severing her left hand. Purple fire surged from the wound, cauterizing it instantly, but the damage was done.
Walburga staggered back, eyes wide in shock and rage.
"You bastard!" she screamed, her voice distorted by pain and fury. "I'll erase you! I'll erase everything you love! I will grab those whores you call girlfriends and pass them around to my people!"
Her magic shifted instantly. It expanded, raw power erupting from her in waves. Her flames darkened, deepening into a shade of violet I'd never seen... beautiful, deadly, and utterly terrifying. Behind her, the spectral shape of a massive dragon began to form, roaring silently into the night.
“Incinerate Antiphona Calvario!” she roared to the heavens.
Balance Breaker.
I felt my stomach drop. Cold and sharp fear gripped me tighter than I'd ever known.
"Die!" she howled, and the dragon surged toward me.
My hands moved on instinct, conjuring a wall of pure, crystalline ice between her and the village. I poured every drop of my remaining power into destroying the dragon with my light. It had to hold, if only long enough to save the innocents.
I didn't bother raising defenses for myself. This was it. I knew it deep in my bones.
The dragon first collided with my ice barrier, shattering it instantly despite my effort. Then it consumed the light I threw desperately against it. Nothing slowed it.
This was it… I was going to die.
I thought of Hermione, Iris, Fleur, and all the people I'd promised to protect.
A bitter tear rolled down my cheek. "I'm sorry," I whispered, accepting what was to come.
Then, as the flames enveloped me, something stirred deep within. Not the warmth of Aetherium, not my familiar magic… something different, something new, Something Divine.
Golden light exploded from the sky toward my body, filling my very core. It wrapped around me, comforting yet powerful, ancient yet wholly mine? No… not mine, exactly. But at the same time… it belonged to me.
I felt strength flood through me, my wounds sealing faster, my muscles surging with renewed vigor.
The dragon slammed into me, flames biting deeply, agony unlike anything I'd ever experienced rippling through my body. But I stood, didn't break, and most importantly, didn't die.
When the fire cleared, I was still standing.
Walburga stared at me, genuine terror reflected in her eyes. Her sacred gear flickered, unstable, and the cross behind her disappeared.
"Impossible…" she whispered, stepping back.
I didn't know exactly what had happened, but I knew I'd changed. My heartbeat was steady and powerful, and my gaze was unwavering, locked onto Walburga.
“What are you!?” she shouted in fear, “Just what in the world are you, Elias!?”
I didn’t know what to answer. I was too busy staring down at my hands. My skin glowed softly, bathed in a golden brilliance unlike anything I'd ever felt. My hair had lengthened, gently brushing my shoulders as if woven from sunlight itself.
Every scar I'd carried since childhood closed seamlessly, fading away like they'd never existed. Bones realigned silently, muscles strengthened effortlessly, and imperfections I hadn't even realized I possessed melted away with these changes.
"What am I...?" I echoed softly, more to myself than her. The changes felt profound and intimate… like a quiet rebirth I hadn’t asked for but desperately needed.
Like I was incomplete before but after this awakening… I was simply… me.
Yet, even through my awe, I knew one thing clearly: I was something new, something different, something undeniably divine.
"I guess we're both about to find out," I finally answered, lifting my gaze back to Walburga, who looked more terrified than I'd thought possible.
Without giving her time to recover, I surged forward, my magic flaring brighter and stronger than ever before. The Aetherium within me surged eagerly, every spell becoming exponentially more potent, effortlessly woven by my very will. Walburga screamed, desperately trying to reactivate her sacred gear, violet flames sputtering weakly around her, but the weapon refused her command.
Confusion flashed through me briefly, but I didn't pause—no, I couldn't. I pushed harder, the golden sun above responding to my unspoken command, descending toward her with an earth-shaking roar.
Gravity was malleable for me now, and the sun was breaking the rules of physics.
Walburga's scream of desperation and fury echoed throughout the graveyard as she summoned every shred of magic left within her. A barrier of bright green light erupted around her, struggling violently against my attack. The clash was spectacular, deafening, and devastating. Her barrier barely held together as her knees buckled under the strain.
Then, with a final roar of defiance, Walburga’s barrier exploded, throwing her backward. She stumbled, haggard and terrified, and in a final moment of panicked clarity, she vanished in a burst thanks to a magic circle.
Exhaustion overtook me immediately. I sank heavily onto the scorched ground, breathing raggedly, staring blankly at the ruined landscape around me. The graveyard had become nothing more than a crater, a smoking ruin scarred by our battle, destruction on a scale far more significant than I'd expected.
I glanced toward the village, relieved to see the mysterious ice wall still standing strong, a beacon of salvation amidst chaos.
Then, my eyes snapped to Voldemort. He was staring at me with an intense, unhinged look, his pupils flashing red. The Headmaster stood several feet away, visibly exhausted, clutching something small to his chest.
Slowly, I raised my hand, gathering the last scraps of my magic. Voldemort's eyes widened slightly in alarm, and with a scowl of frustration, he vanished in a swirl of dark smoke.
Movement overhead drew my attention. Two figures hovered silently in the sky, cloaked by magic, but my eyes pierced effortlessly through their concealment like it wasn't even there. I didn't recognize them, yet instinct told me they weren't enemies. With a tired smirk, I raised my hand, gesturing for them to come down before finally closing my eyes and taking a deep breath.
A few moments later, the sound of gently flapping wings greeted my ears, and I forced my eyes open once more.
"Magnificent, simply magnificent!" the male devil said with amused applause. "You, my mysterious friend, are a marvel! How did you do it? Who are you? What faction do you follow?"
The blonde girl at his side remained quiet, her eyes narrowed hatefully at the spot where Walburga had vanished.
"Before I answer," I groaned, forming a seat from ice to prevent myself from collapsing onto the ground again, "was it you who saved the village?"
I still wasn't entirely sure what I'd become, but one thing was certain, I was exhausted to a degree I'd never felt before.
"Oh, that wasn't me," the devil grinned broadly, indicating his companion with a playful gesture. "It was all thanks to my right hand over here."
I glanced at the beautiful girl once more, noting how her blonde hair seemed as luminous as the stars now returning after the disappearance of my sun. She had a gentle yet striking beauty, with a buxom figure dressed in a stylish, anime-like witch's outfit. I didn't recognize her at all.
"You have my deepest thanks, my lady," I said earnestly, popping open the last vial of Ash’s tears I carried. "Knowing my lovers, they must have been right there helping the villagers."
"May I ask for your names?" I added, standing again as the magical elixir eased the physical strain, but the mental exhaustion lingered stubbornly.
"I am Mephisto Pheles, Chairman of the Grauzauberer," the devil introduced himself cheerfully, and my eyes widened slightly. I didn't recall much about him from the DxD side of things, but that name carried plenty of weight in both worlds I was part of. "And this lovely lady here is the Ice Princess, Lavinia Reni."
"An honor, truly," I said, shaking Mephisto's hand firmly. Turning to Lavinia, I gently took her small hand and pressed a respectful kiss to the back of it. "And a true pleasure, Miss Reni."
She smiled softly, clearly pleased by the polite gesture.
"I’m Elias Black," I introduced myself, bowing slightly, "and I’m a wizard."
"It was no trouble at all," Lavinia responded warmly. "Anyone who stands against Walburga is a friend in my book."
Just hearing that woman’s name made me scowl. "Crazy bitch."
Lavinia chuckled at my bluntness, and even Mephisto joined in with amusement before he continued.
"We were visiting the Golden Dawn organization for official business when we felt the disturbance here. I must say, my friend, I never expected a wizard capable of achieving something like what we witnessed today."
"I like to think I’m a bit special," I joked lightly before becoming serious again. "But won't you two get in trouble for being here? I was warned about the Pact."
Mephisto waved a dismissive hand, his eyes twinkling. "After what you've done tonight, I'll be genuinely shocked if you manage to remain hidden, my friend. It's not every day someone appears who can match blows with someone of Walburga's caliber."
"I nearly died," I admitted, shaking my head ruefully. "If her Sacred Gear hadn't faltered at the last second, that final attack would've finished me."
"Indeed," Mephisto mused, stroking his goatee thoughtfully as he studied me closely. "I must admit... if I didn't know better, I'd think you were a direct creation of the Father of the Angels himself."
I didn't like the sharp gleam in his eyes at those words, so I simply chuckled, keeping my expression calm and unreadable.
"No, it's more than that," he continued thoughtfully. "You are quite an enigma, my friend. That magic of yours is exceptionally potent, not to mention undeniably holy. And that sword you wield, truly something remarkable."
"I suppose," I shrugged, keeping my tone casual. Turning my attention back to Lavinia, I added sincerely, "Once again, Miss Lavinia, thank you. You saved my loved ones tonight, and that means more to me than you can imagine."
"You know what?" Mephisto suddenly interjected, a playful smile on his lips. "Why don't you two exchange numbers? Or are wizards still hopelessly behind when it comes to technology?"
"Oh, we definitely are," I chuckled easily, "but I prefer to stay ahead of the curve. If Miss Lavinia doesn't mind, I'd happily exchange numbers."
Lavinia tapped her cheek thoughtfully for a moment, then nodded decisively. "I agree... but on one condition. If you encounter Walburga again, please let me know. I doubt she'd escape again with the two of us working together."
After exchanging numbers with Lavinia, I turned my gaze back to Mephisto, curiosity getting the better of me.
"Since you're here, any advice on what happens next?" I asked, running a hand through my now longer hair, still feeling strangely off-balance. "With everything that's happened, I doubt things will stay quiet."
Mephisto smiled knowingly, his eyes shining with amusement. "Oh, they'll be anything but quiet. You’ve stirred the hornet's nest, Elias. After tonight, the factions will surely have their eyes fixed on you, though whether they view you as a threat, ally, or opportunity remains to be seen."
I sighed tiredly. "That's exactly what I was afraid of."
Lavinia chuckled softly. "If it helps, you'll at least have some allies," she reassured gently, offering a warm smile. "Starting with us."
Mephisto glanced around, and there was a sudden shift in his demeanor. His playful expression gave way to a subtle seriousness. "As much as I'd love to stay and discuss the implications, I'm afraid we've already drawn unwanted attention. I can sense eyes watching us."
I stiffened, instinctively glancing around, though I sensed nothing.
"Already?" I asked quietly.
"Indeed, and it’s a higher power," Mephisto confirmed, his voice light yet meaningful. "Keep your guard up, Elias. I hope we'll meet again soon, under friendlier circumstances."
"I look forward to it," I replied sincerely, nodding respectfully.
Lavinia smiled softly, her gaze lingering on me for a moment before they both took flight once again, swiftly disappearing into the darkened sky.
With them gone, exhaustion washed over me again, but there was still one thing left to do.
I turned quickly, remembering Dumbledore had fallen earlier. My stomach dropped. The Headmaster was now lying motionless on the scorched earth.
"Professor!" I shouted, rushing to his side. The old man's breathing was shallow, his face pale and strained, and the tiny, featherless form of Fawkes was held protectively in his trembling hands.
"Ash!" I called desperately, panic rising within me. Instantly, a comforting warmth flashed nearby as my phoenix appeared, worry evident in her bright eyes.
"Get us out of here," I murmured urgently, carefully gathering the frail form of Albus Dumbledore into my arms. "To a healer, quickly!"
Ash’s wings unfurled gracefully, wrapping us in flames and whisking us away from the devastated battlefield, leaving only silence and destruction in our wake.
A distant observer.
He watched silently from afar, his fingers thoughtfully stroking his long, gray beard as his gaze pierced through layers of magic and distance. His eye narrowed in curiosity, trying to see what had piqued his interest.
"Hmm..." he murmured softly, the voice carrying weight beyond mere sound. "And here, I’d hoped their exile would have lasted a bit longer. A pity that brat Merlin’s little sacrifice didn’t hold as intended."
He shifted slightly on his carved stone throne, leaning forward with interest. "And now it seems one of them even dared have offspring with their own creation." His eye focused sharply, penetrating the very TRUTH of the strange young wizard. His frown deepened, troubled by what he saw.
"And not just any offspring. A boy with divine magic and a body comparable to them, yet still clearly a wizard? Preposterous," he scoffed softly, shaking his head in disbelief. "As if those things could create something like this."
He stood slowly, towering over the shadowed chamber. His robes rustled softly as he used his cane to pace toward a nearby balcony, staring out over an endless sky.
"Perhaps," he mused aloud, "I should check the Veil personally and ensure the entrance remains properly sealed."
A gentle rustling of fabric drew his attention as a woman stepped quietly into view. Her posture was respectful yet firm.
She inclined her head slightly, awaiting his command.
"What are your orders, my lord?" she asked calmly, her voice steady, almost neutral.
He regarded her thoughtfully for a moment before responding. "The other pantheons may have grown uncaring in enforcing the Pact, but I still value order. Contact Lugh and inform him of these developments. Observe his reaction closely. And dispatch the girls; they can have fun tracking down and hunting the Hexennacht."
"And the Longinus user, my lord?" the woman asked carefully, watching his reaction.
He hesitated briefly, then smiled, a cold, amused grin. "Leave her be for now. I find myself curious to see what the boy will do when their paths cross again."
She tilted her head slightly, inquisitive. "Will you seek him out yourself?"
He made a dismissive sound, waving away the suggestion. "Bah. The brat is still wet behind the ears."
The woman sighed softly, clearly expecting his answer. Yet, before she could withdraw, he spoke again, his voice softer and more contemplative.
"But… keep an eye on Britain nonetheless. I find myself increasingly intrigued."
Comments
InfinityReads99
Glad you liked it! His next power up will be when he returns to his hollow to rest. Yes and no, IA can leave its host, but I’m adding a plot line to it to make it more interesting. A couple of things happened during the fight, and as you saw, IA fought back, but there are things happening that stopped it from leaving. It will be better explained in a couple of chaps, probably.
StarSmith
3 things 1 thanks for your hard work and the chunky chapter! 2 when will we get his next spin? 3 doesn’t Incinerate Anthem leave its host if it’s ever beaten in a fight they don’t need to die but it typically leaves after a host gets there shit kicked in like in this chapter
InfinityReads99
Love it.
Mylael
Pretty sure, the last PoV is Odin. And honestly no idea who his mother could be, the obvious pick are the Angels but the way the last PoV described them as things and that wizards were their creations kinda stops that line of thought. Running off the thought that his mother is more local I'd guess she's part of the Celtic Pantheon but the reference to things is still holding that back so.... his mother is probably a Fey maybe even Titania.
Lictor Magnus
Thanks for the chapter! That was a great battle.
LothWolf
Thanks for the chapter
