mesbooks Chapter 428, Section 427: Fierce Battle with the Ancient Spirit
Chapter 428, Section 427: Fierce Battle with the Ancient Spirit
Chapter 428, Section 427: Fierce Battle with the Ancient Spirit
A door that suddenly appeared.
He stood in front of Ian.
There were no keyholes or handles on the door panel. Instead, there were countless twisted and bizarre relief patterns—these were indescribable creatures, some like giant snakes and vines intertwined, some like twisted fleshy lumps covered with eyes, and some were completely abstract.
Geometric symbols that seem to represent some kind of primitive concept.
These reliefs are not inanimate objects; they are slowly, extremely slowly, writhing and changing, emitting a faint light and a low hum that can be disorienting to the mind.
The entire giant gate was permeated with an ancient, wild, chaotic and primal aura, as if it itself were a terrifying being that was alive but had fallen into a deep sleep.
Before the giant gate, in the shadows on both sides of the passage, several enormous figures were crawling.
Ian's gaze instantly locked onto them.
This is the "Gu Ling" that the blind man spoke of.
Their shapes vary greatly and do not conform to the morphology of conventional organisms.
One of them looked like a constantly churning whirlwind made of sand and bones, with two crimson points of light flashing at its eye.
The other one resembled a giant, translucent swamp worm, its body surface covered with constantly opening and closing suckers, each sucker seemingly revealing a painful, screaming human face.
There was another one, with the most bizarre appearance.
It resembles a pool of viscous, shimmering black sludge with an oil-paint-like sheen, its surface constantly displaying various distorted illusions, sometimes like a bustling city, sometimes like a battlefield strewn with corpses.
The magical energy they exuded was filled with wildness, chaos, and a primal pressure rooted in the ancient continent itself. These ancient spirits were indeed incompatible with the orderly wizarding magic system, more like a terrifying manifestation of the spirits of nature itself after being twisted by unknown forces.
When Ian stepped into the area, these "ancient spirits" almost simultaneously "woke up".
The sandstorm stopped churning, its crimson eye fixed on Ian; the swamp worm raised its head, devoid of distinct features, and countless faces within its suckers turned toward him, emitting silent shrieks—while the black sludge began to boil violently, the illusions on its surface shifting rapidly, emanating a strong mental pollution.
A heavy, mountain-like pressure, carrying a strong stench of blood and a curse of the soul, surged toward Ian like a tangible tide, attempting to crush him.
It devoured him, dragging his soul into endless madness and chaos.
Ian stood before the giant gate, facing alone these terrifying "ancient spirits" from the deepest recesses of African tribal legends, yet his face showed no panic, but rather a hint of interest.
"Interesting." He murmured to himself, and the aura around him, which had been restrained to the extreme, began to slowly reveal its sharp edge, like a sword being unsheathed.
Ian stood alone before the massive gate that emanated an ominous aura, his aura like that of a divine weapon unsheathed, forming a silent standoff with the several ancient spirits in front of him, each with a different form and exuding a primal, chaotic pressure.
The invisible magic and mental clashes have begun, the air thick with tension, the whispered curses of the souls, and the mind-bending, distorting force fields.
These Ancient Spirits are clearly different from the Dementors that were "fed" and made lazy; they are truly dangerous and aggressive guardians.
However, Ian's face showed no fear, but rather a researcher's focus and curiosity.
He decided not to directly use his power, which involved rules, to crush the past—while that would be simple and direct, it might destroy the opportunity to understand the true nature of these "ancient spirits".
Therefore.
He planned to use a more "traditional" approach, namely the magical styles honed under the Hogwarts education system, to meet these ancient beings of the African continent.
"Perfect, let's stretch our muscles."
Ian flicked his wrist, and the seemingly plain wand that had been with him for years slid into his palm. The tip of the wand glowed faintly, pointing towards the first to be unable to contain itself—a sandstorm spirit composed of sand and withered bones. "VentusVorte!"
It wasn't a simple Gale Spell, but an enhanced whirlwind with intense spinning and cutting power. A solid, whistling tornado erupted from the tip of the wand, not aimed at the ancient spirit itself, but precisely struck the side of its constantly churning sandstorm body.
"boom--!"
The Sandstorm Ancient Spirit let out a piercing screech, like the friction of millions of grains of sand. Its massive body was slightly jolted by the sudden, powerful whirlwind, and its rotation speed became noticeably erratic. The dry bones on its surface were cut by the wind blades with a clattering sound, and even a few smaller bones were directly blown away.
This is Ian.
You need to use the opponent's attributes to clash with them.
The arrogance of the legendary wizard is fully displayed.
However, Gu Ling was clearly unaware of this. A flash of rage appeared in its scarlet eyes, and more sand and bone fragments, seemingly appearing out of nowhere, surged forth and merged into its body, causing it to swell in size. With an even more ferocious aura, it unleashed countless sand blades shimmering with black light, raining down upon Ian!
Ian moved with lightning speed, nimbly navigating the narrow passageway.
"Armor for protection!"
A very solid light shield, shimmering with complex runes, instantly appeared in front of Ian, blocking most of the sand blades and making a dense sound like raindrops hitting banana leaves.
At the same time, he waved his wand again.
"The water is as clear as a spring!"
"Freeze it immediately!"
A thick jet of water shot towards the Sandstorm Ancient Spirit, not to extinguish it, but to be instantly transformed by an extremely powerful freezing spell into countless sharp ice crystals and spikes, mixed with the not-yet-fully-frozen water, and blasted into the sandstorm like shrapnel. The extreme cold and physical impact once again froze the Sandstorm Ancient Spirit's movements.
Some of the gravel and dry bones were frozen and shattered, making a cracking sound.
"Roar roar roar!"
The ancient spirit roared in anger, and distorted, tormented phantom faces began to emerge from the sandstorm, emitting mournful cries that pierced the soul, attempting to disrupt Ian's mind.
"An attack on the soul level? Interesting." Ian raised an eyebrow, feeling a slight sting on the mental level, but it wasn't intense. He steadied his mind and drew an arc with his wand.
"A mental barrier!"
This level of mental attack doesn't warrant the use of a Guardian Angel spell. Ian remained confident, composed, and incredibly elegant, as a silver halo, like a warm morning sun, radiated out from him.
The aura wasn't intense, but it carried a firm and pure will to "protect." The phantoms of suffering faces in the sandstorm vanished the moment they came into contact with the silver light, emitting a shrill shriek as if melting ice and snow. The sandstorm spirit itself also seemed to be burned, shrinking back and letting out a wary hiss.
Just as Ian was dealing with the Sandstorm Ancient Spirit, the translucent swamp worm Ancient Spirit moved. Its massive body seemed clumsy, but it moved with extraordinary speed, gliding across the ground like liquid. It opened its mouthparts, which were covered with countless suckers and seemed capable of devouring everything. A powerful suction instantly enveloped Ian, and at the same time, the silent screams emanating from the tormented faces within the suckers became even more intense, forming a wave of mental shock.
"Obstacles are numerous!"
"They'll all be petrified!"
Ian tapped his wand repeatedly, creating an invisible barrier field that attempted to slow the worm's approach, followed by a full-body binding spell that shot its light towards the worm.
However, the petrifying light that entered the worm's translucent body only caused the mucus on its surface to solidify for a moment before being quickly dissolved by the churning dark power within it.
Its suction power remains strong, and the mental impact continues unabated.
"High resistance to physical and conventional curses—." Ian calmly analyzed the situation while using his superior movement skills to counter the suction. He abandoned direct control and instead cast a shapeshifting spell.
"Transform instantly!"
A powerful, green spark spell struck the ground beside the worm, instantly transforming the hard rock into a large, slippery, and elastic area of moss.
"Zzzzz!!!"
The worm's massive body slid in, its movements becoming sluggish and clumsy, and the suction was affected. It writhed angrily, its slime corroding the moss, but Ian had bought himself some time.
The last and most bizarre of the ancient spirits, resembling boiling black sludge, never directly participated in the physical attacks. However, it caused Ian the most trouble. Its constantly shifting, distorted illusions—a bustling city instantly collapsing into ruins, relatives and friends turning into ferocious demons lunging at him, and countless treasures within reach instantly transforming into venomous snakes.
These illusions are not merely visual deceptions, but contain a powerful force of mental corruption, constantly assaulting Ian's mind, attempting to evoke the fear, greed, and despair deep within him, and to erode his will to fight. If an ordinary wizard were here, they would very likely be utterly defeated.
Fortunately, Ian was no ordinary wizard.
"Brain shut-off! Brain shut-off surgery!"
Ian first cast a disruptive spell, creating meaningless noise to try and interfere with the transmission of the illusion. At the same time, he activated a profound mind-blocking technique, like building an unbreakable dam in the most violent storm, firmly keeping out the mental pollution. His eyes remained clear, and his movements were completely undisturbed.
During the battle, Ian constantly changed his strategy, trying out various spells from the Hogwarts system. He tried using a fire dragon formed from raging flames to burn the sandstorm spirits, discovering that the flames could purify the negative emotional energy contained within to some extent, but could not completely destroy the sand and bones themselves.
He used the "Severing Slash" spell on the swamp worm, but it only left shallow, rapidly healing wounds on its surface, proving its extremely strong regenerative ability. He tried "Cure Stop" and various antidotes on the black mud spirit, but found that they had little effect on its natural mental pollution ability.
They could only rely on their own strong mental strength to withstand it.
The battle lasted for about fifteen minutes.
Like a nimble swift, Ian weaved through the encirclement of three powerful ancient spirits, seemingly in peril, yet always keeping the situation under control. He was not incapable of defeating them; if he were to unleash his true power, whether by tearing through space or by invoking deeper magical rules, he could destroy or seal these ancient spirits in a short time.
But he didn't.
His purpose was to "test" and to "understand".
after all.
Although Gu Ling is incredibly powerful.
But as the old saying goes, Ian is a legendary wizard, and at his level, few non-divine beings can rival him.
Through constant exchanges and the collisions of magical energy, Ian keenly noticed some unusual details. When the sandstorm spirit was forced back by his protective magic imbued with pure life force, besides its rage, there seemed to be an extremely faint, almost liberating tremor.
As the swamp worm was trapped in the slippery moss created by the Transfiguration spell, the agonizing howls of the faces within its suckers, besides resentment, seemed to contain a barely perceptible fear, as if of the "binding" itself. And as for the black mud spirit, when Ian fully activated his Occlumency spell, displaying an unbreakable will, a fleeting ripple seemed to appear on the boiling surface of its mud, besides the even more frenzied illusions.
Fluctuations similar to "confusion" and "exhaustion".
More importantly, deep within the chaotic, distorted, and negatively charged energy cores of these ancient spirits, Ian vaguely sensed a faint yet exceptionally pure core, even imbued with a sense of peace and natural rhythm: a "core." That core seemed to be tightly enveloped by a thick "shell" formed from pain, resentment, curses, and some kind of external contamination.
It keeps twisting and turning.
A thought flashed through Ian's mind like lightning—he became aware that these so-called "ancient spirits" might not have been like this in the beginning!
Just as previously speculated, they were likely originally natural spirits that coexisted with mountains, rivers, forests, and swamps on this ancient African continent!
It is the magic that maintains a certain balance, symbolizes a certain natural phenomenon or regional spirit, and should exist in a peaceful way! It is because of some kind of change—perhaps an ancient war, an evil ritual, powerful black magic pollution, or being forcibly bound by a greedy tribe, its essence distorted to achieve certain purposes.
It is precisely because of human influence that they have degenerated and become distorted, turning into the twisted creatures they are today, filled with pain, resentment, and aggression!
Such speculation is not unfounded.
Ian's actions were traceable.
To know.
The Ministry of Magic in this area does not focus on the training and use of Dementors.
Perhaps it is because the Ministry of Magic here controls these ancient spirits. Their current violence and chaos are more like a struggle and catharsis that has reached an endless state, stemming from their own pain and the defilement of their essence!
This discovery greatly diminished Ian's murderous intent. He looked at the three ancient spirits still attacking frantically, a complex emotion flickering in his eyes.
"What a bunch of pathetic bastards."
They are terrifying, they are dangerous, but in some ways they are also—pathetic.
"I see," Ian muttered to himself, his wand's attacks slowing slightly as he focused more on parrying and dodging. "Not inherently evil, but a twisted creation. No wonder the blind man said he'd 'disturbed a sleeping great man'—Newt's 'little creature' probably touched something related to the origins of these ancient spirits, perhaps even the root cause of their distortion?"
He realized that forcibly eliminating these ancient spirits might not be the best option; it might just be a crude method that only treats the symptoms and not the root cause, and could even lead to more unpredictable consequences.
Just as Ian was considering whether to change his strategy and try other methods to appease or temporarily suppress these ancient spirits, he noticed out of the corner of his eye that some symbols on the huge door covered with writhing reliefs seemed to light up almost imperceptibly due to the energy fluctuations generated by his battle with the ancient spirits.
Something behind the door seemed to have been disturbed.