Harry Potter and the Secret Treasures

This was a war between evil gods, in which the weaker was devoured by the stronger, until utterly annihilated.

This was absolutely fascinating!

This had long surpassed the bounds of any ordinary magical duel. What clashed here were not spells, but entire domains of magic themselves.

Two evil gods, one representing death, the other devouring — these were two completely different domains of Dark magic.

Which domain was more powerful?

From what Evan could see, the answer was already clear.

The domain of death, represented by Herpo the Foul, was no match for the domain of devouring.

In the words of the evil god: in long and strange ages, even Death may meet its end!

Death was the terminus of life — the promise of extinction, the final silence awaiting all things.

From ancient times to the present, no matter how powerful a wizard, they had all feared death. From the Egyptian pharaohs and Herpo the Foul, to countless ancient spellcasters; from Dumbledore and Grindelwald to Voldemort himself — wizards had never ceased striving to conquer death, to claim immortality for themselves.

Ask yourself, who does not fear death?

Who does not long for eternal life?

Yet if even death — the embodiment of all endings — could itself come to an end, then what meaning did death still hold?

How could it inspire terror any longer?

The most terrifying aspect of death was gone; with enough patience and time, one might simply endure it — wait it out.

To gain immortality — this was perhaps the greatest hope and ambition of mortal wizards.

But before an ancient god that had been immortal since the moment of his birth, such ambitions were utterly meaningless.

Whether because his power was utterly suppressed, or because his very philosophy could not stand against his foe, the evil god born of Herpo was completely outmatched by the being that had existed since the birth of the universe itself.

His original soul, magic, and all his essence were being frantically devoured.

Countless abominations poured forth from the Veil of Death, only to be swallowed the moment they emerged.

Even the power within the Veil of Death, death itself, was being devoured.

Herpo’s strength waned rapidly. Even retreating back into the Veil of Death was no longer possible.

The devouring force clung to him relentlessly, like innumerable unseen tentacles, binding him fast.

Above them, the green radiance faded, while the unnatural red glow grew ever brighter.

In any other circumstance, Evan might not have minded standing aside to witness this battle.

He might have watched the destruction of an evil god with his own eyes!

Evan had a feeling that even if Herpo the Foul could not be truly killed or destroyed because of the Horcrux, he could still be devoured by another evil god and ultimately reduced to nothingness.

Once all his power had been devoured, Herpo’s very existence would become meaningless.

This was definitely an epic magical battle!

Evan, witnessing all of this, would become a witness to this epic battle.

Yet even as it seemed that he was no more than an observer, he knew his position allowed no such luxury.

He had to act.

He had to take part in the struggle between these two evil gods.

If Herpo were allowed to be devoured, time would be drastically altered.

Evan had to ensure that history proceeded on the correct trajectory!

He had to stop the Ravenclaw wizards from opening the Veil of Death, preventing Herpo the Foul from descending into the real world, and he also had to defeat the evil god that was frantically devouring magical essence, preventing him from becoming even stronger.

Evan tried once more to regain control of the magic, and quickly discovered that he could control a portion of it.

Even though he had now completely merged into a vast ocean of magic, the part that belonged to him — his own magic — could still be commanded by thought alone.

Although the amount of magic he could control was minuscule compared to the immense magical power converging from all around, it was undeniable that Evan could control it.

This was his only hope, and he desperately tried to influence the other magic with the magic he could control.

As time passed, the range and speed of the magic he could control grew larger and larger.

Evan quickly figured out the trick: he didn’t need to control all the magic; he only needed to guide it with his own magic.

Under his guidance, the surrounding magic began to obey his will.

Whatever spell the Ravenclaw family had originally intended no longer mattered. He would use this power in his own way.

Evil gods or the Veil of Death, he would just destroy them!

With magic of this magnitude, if Evan could direct it into a collision, the resulting impact alone would be enough to annihilate everything. The magic might seem stable now, but once it slipped free of the castle’s enchantments, there was no guarantee it would remain so.

This would be a collision beyond everyone’s imagination, like launching a devastatingly powerful missile.

No!

In Evan’s view, a mass of magic of this scale unleashed all at once might rival the destructive force of a Muggle atomic bomb.

As Evan gained control over this magic, he could feel an overwhelming power under his command — a magical force far greater than any he had ever wielded before.

He gathered the vast magic around him and attempted to unleash it.

The overall feeling was like casting a spell!

The thought had barely formed in Evan’s mind when, the next second, a beam of magic was indeed launched.

Boom!

A blue torrent of magic, like a jet of superheated, high-pressure water, slammed into the evil god’s shadowy form as he continued his frenzied devouring.

“Mortal!”

The evil god’s voice suddenly intensified, filled with rage.

The whispers in Evan’s mind became increasingly complex; he thought he heard a piercing scream.

Then, he saw a large chunk of the once invincible phantom of the evil god be corroded away, as if struck by a corrosive curse.

“It works!” Evan hurriedly controlled the release of another beam of magic.

With the collision of magic, another portion of the evil god’s phantom vanished, his power rapidly weakening.

He howled in rage, his countless tentacles writhing and lashing.

“Wretched and ignorant mortal — you dare attempt to stop me again!”

“How laughable! Your doom draws near!”

“The death knell has tolled; your resistance is futile!”

“Witness your death and despair, mortal, the end is nigh…”

Evan paid no heed to whatever the creature was ranting about. Past encounters had taught him one thing with absolute clarity: as long as he ignored the whispers in his mind and refused to let the evil god take hold of his thoughts, his power would be diminished by more than half.

Before truly descending into the world, this creature had virtually no offensive capabilities other than mental ones.

Even without the aid of any legendary magical item, the evil god’s whispers had no effect on Evan.

At this moment, the entire Ravenclaw castle seemed to have transformed into a colossal magical battery. Evan relentlessly fired, controlling his magic to form magical beams, unleashing them one after another, constantly weakening the evil god’s power…