blogombal Chapter 465-464: The Revival of the Past 8
Chapter 465-464: The Revival of the Past 8
Chapter 465-464: The Revival of the Past 8
"Don't come any closer!" The last two prisoners, injured by the aftershocks of the battle, lay in a corner, witnessing their comrade being slaughtered like a chopping fruit.
They watched as the black-robed figure, like the embodiment of death, approached step by step, and they lost even the courage to raise their wands.
There's no escaping it—there's really no escaping it.
The man in black raised his wand, aiming it at the two trembling survivors, their eyes lifeless. His task was not yet complete.
Saruman's command still echoed in their ears—"Not a single one can escape."
A green light appeared.
People who are missing limbs also die.
In fact, the man in the black robe had been more or less affected mentally.
Extremism is the most typical initial symptom.
"A criminal is always a criminal!"
"Once a criminal, always a criminal, even if you're unconsciously trying to harm the world!" The man in black stood in the center of the inter-border hall, where corpses littered the ground.
Like a silhouette cast by death.
The tip of his simple wand still lingered with a faint, lingering green glow of the Killing Curse. His gaze—through his pair of vertical, inhuman pupils—slowly swept across the entire hall, finally settling on the shadowy side corridor deeper within the hall, half-collapsed due to the fierce battle that had just taken place.
There are still people hiding there.
An intense sense of fear, despair, and a desperate, mad malice, like a tangible filth, emanated from the shadows, far more pungent than the scent of the dead bodies on the ground.
"Should I come out myself, or should I make the move?" The man in black robes did not act immediately, but simply "watched" the shadowy area. An invisible pressure surged towards it like a tide.
Finally, the shadow began to wriggle.
One, two, three—finally, about thirty figures emerged, extremely slowly and reluctantly, from behind the ruins and magically constructed shelters.
These people were completely different from the rabble they had encountered before. They exuded a refined aura of malevolence, and their eyes, besides fear, held a ferocity and brutality rooted in their very bones.
They are the lowest-ranking "residents" of this underground prison of the African Ministry of Magic, the truly vicious and ruthless group sentenced to life imprisonment or even silently awaiting death.
Among them are the heads of dark wizard families, madmen who have committed massacres, and fanatics who research forbidden magic, causing the entire village to change drastically.
Each of them had a name that could stop children from crying at night. And those who were just killed were either their henchmen or people they had bribed.
As for the purpose.
Of course, hiding and letting those people attract the guards' attention would increase the chances of them escaping. It has to be said that these clever wizards have a good idea.
however.
They underestimated the extent of the blockade around this place, and even more so, they underestimated the terrifying strength of the man in black robes, and the power to unleash his full potential, leaving them no chance to escape.
"Who, who are you?!" At this moment, this group of fierce-looking people were so intimidated by the silent man in black robes in front of them that they dared not make a move.
"We can give you money, power, women, everything you want!"
Someone attempted to bribe the man in the black robe.
There was nothing they could do; they had witnessed firsthand how easily their comrades were slaughtered, the absolute difference in strength standing before them like a cold abyss.
"I just want you to stay."
1
The man in black finally spoke.
His voice was flat and emotionless, yet carried a judgmental certainty: "You cannot leave. The outside world cannot bear the harm you bring."
These words acted as a fuse, instantly igniting the suppressed rage of a certain thug.
A sorcerer with a twisted centipede tattooed on his face and missing an ear suddenly raised his head, his eyes bloodshot, and roared hoarsely, "Harm?! You say we're a threat to the world?! Hah—what a ridiculous joke! You butcher! You monster who treats human life like dirt!"
You've killed so many people, your methods more brutal than our most vicious black magic! Aren't you more evil than us?! What gives you the right to stand on your moral high ground and accuse us?!
He had clearly misunderstood the reason for the danger the man in black had mentioned. His words resonated with the other prisoners, and a suppressed commotion and low murmurs of agreement rose from the crowd.
Yes, this guy in black robes kills people without batting an eye, and the magic he uses is incredibly sinister. What right does he have to say they are endangering the world?
A group of people were chattering away.
The man in the black robe fell silent. His expression was hidden by the shadow of the hood, but his vertical pupils seemed to flicker slightly.
He neither refuted nor admitted it.
Seeing the black-robed man remain silent, the one-eared sorcerer thought he had touched a nerve, or perhaps he knew he had no chance of survival today, and a desperate, reckless spirit surged up within him.
He abruptly turned to the other prisoners, his voice shrill and distorted with agitation.
"Everyone! You've all seen it! This monster won't spare any of us! We're all going to die anyway, are we just going to sit here like livestock waiting to be slaughtered?!" He waved his arms, acting like a madman. "Why don't we join forces! Use that forbidden technique! Sacrifice our lives, our souls, everything we have!"
"Summon the power of the abyss and perish together with this damned monster!!" Clearly, some dark magic that many people have learned is prevalent in this region.
"Total destruction!" These four words were like a curse, instantly igniting the last vestige of ferocity in this group of desperate criminals. Despair at its extreme led to a frenzied counterattack. They were lawless beings who disregarded all rules, and after confirming that there was no hope of survival, dragging such a powerful scapegoat down with them seemed to be the final "victory" in their twisted logic.
Their own lives are also disregarded.
can only say.
A desperado truly lives up to his name.
"Yes! Let's fight him!"
"Damn it, I'll bite off a piece of his flesh even if it kills me!"
"Serves you right for being so arrogant! Let's go to hell together!"
Shouts and roars rose and fell as the remaining thirty or so vicious thugs reached an unprecedented consensus. They quickly spread out in a strange formation, surrounding the man in black robes in the center, raising their wands or scratching their own skin with their fingernails.
Twisted symbols were drawn on the ground with blood.
The man in black robes did not stop them.
An ancient, obscure, and blasphemous chanting arose simultaneously from thirty throats, the sounds varying in pitch, yet eerily merging into a chilling chorus.
The temperature in the entire underground space suddenly dropped.
Black, viscous, shadowy substance began to seep from the walls and the ground, and the air was filled with a strong stench of sulfur and decay, as well as some indescribable aura belonging to the ancient abyss.
Complex Black Magic I: [Abyssal Pact - Withering of All Things]! This is a forbidden spell that requires a large number of casters to sacrifice their lives and souls to activate. Its power is enough to annihilate a small town and drag all matter and energy within its range into an eternal abyss of shadow.
A terrifying magical aura shone on these prisoners.
That was the most dazzling light emitted in the final moments of life. Black energy spread out from beneath their feet like a tide, turning the ground into scorched earth and rocks into dust in its wake. Even the magical elements floating in the air were completely swallowed up and annihilated.
The entire underground prison seemed to have been plunged into an inkwell; the light rapidly dimmed, leaving only the burning flames of life on the prisoners' bodies and the surging, all-consuming darkness beneath their feet.
"He was terrified! He couldn't move!"
"Hahaha! Monster! Regret it now! Too late!"
"Feel the embrace of the abyss! Fall into darkness with us forever!"
Seeing the man in black robes still standing silently in place, making no move to stop or evade him, the prisoners erupted in hysterical mockery and laughter. They assumed the man in black robes was intimidated by the power of the combined forbidden technique, that victory was in sight, and that even death would be without regret.
However, just as the raging tide of shadows, powerful enough to wither everything, carrying the destructive energy gained from the sacrifice of thirty powerful black wizards, was about to engulf the man in black robes—a sudden change occurred!
That all-consuming darkness.
That shadow seemed to obliterate even light and space.
When it was still an inch away from the corner of the black-robed man's robe, it froze as if a living creature had encountered its natural enemy, and then—shrank back in fear!
It was as if an invisible absolute domain existed around the black-robed man, and even this forbidden power originating from the abyss dared not, was unwilling, or could not even touch him in the slightest!
The surging tide of dark energy futilely washed over the invisible boundary, but could not cross it even once, only forming a strange vacuum around the black-robed man.
The laughter and jeers stopped abruptly.
The madness and smugness on the faces of all the prisoners froze instantly, replaced by utter astonishment, bewilderment, and disbelief.
"How—how is this possible?!"
"The power of the abyss—is it repelling him?"
"No! It's—it's because I'm afraid of him?!"
"Was our sacrifice—our lives—in vain?!"
Someone screamed in despair.
Some collapsed to the ground, their life force rapidly draining and the magic backlash causing them to succumb. The one-eared sorcerer who had initiated the plan, his eyes bloodshot, stared at his rapidly withering arm and the retreating darkness, letting out a desperate roar: "No—!! Demons of Hell! You have broken your promise!! You accepted the sacrifices, why do you not fulfill your contract!!"
Unbeknownst to them, the "contamination" emanating from the black-robed figure originated from a source of a far higher level than any so-called "hellish demon" or "will of the abyss" that they could comprehend or communicate with.
That was deep within R'lyeh, confronting the fundamental distortions of the Great Old Ones and even their very essence, tainted by the dark side of the universe. In comparison, the abyssal shadows they summoned through sacrifice were nothing more than filthy puddles by a pond; how dare they corrupt the being connected to the endless ocean of darkness?
"Even demons are afraid?"
The man in black robes was somewhat disappointed. In fact, the reason he had these people unleash their magic was that he hoped to see some power that could combat the pollution.
It turns out.
Just like the god they used for experiments, even the evil god in hell, it was just a weakling who couldn't withstand Cthulhu's power.
This shattered the illusions in the man in the black robe.
He let out a long sigh.
"I don't believe it!!"
In his final moments, another prisoner burned his last remaining life force, frantically unleashing powerful black magic spells—shattering, corrosive, and soul-tearing—at the man in black robes. However, all the magical light vanished as soon as it entered the invisible domain surrounding the man in black robes.
They vanished without a sound, without even causing a ripple.
The man in black robes did not move an inch from beginning to end. He simply stood there quietly, as if watching a farce that had nothing to do with him.
Finally, the power of the sacrifice began to backfire. The black wizards, their life force exhausted, let out mournful screams one after another. Their bodies withered and decomposed rapidly in the darkness, turning into ashes. Even the remnants of their souls were devoured by the abyssal shadows they had summoned themselves.
Just as the last person—the one-eared sorcerer—was about to completely dissipate, perhaps it was a final burst of energy before death, or perhaps it was a subtle fluctuation in the invisible force field around the black-robed man caused by the annihilation of a large amount of magic, he happened to see a faint gust of air lift a corner of the black-robed man's hood.
He saw it—a distorted face hidden in the shadows, not human, covered in gray-green scales and with vertical pupils!
"You—you're not human!!"
With his last ounce of strength, the one-eared sorcerer let out a roar filled with extreme horror and resentment. Then, his body and voice were completely annihilated in the lingering darkness.
With the complete annihilation of the spellcaster.
The pervasive shadows of the abyss vanished swiftly like the receding tide, leaving behind only a devastated hall, as if gnawed by an invisible behemoth.
And the nauseating stench in the air, a mixture of sulfur, burnt matter, and the remnants of souls.
"That's right."
The man in black robes slowly lowered his head, looking at his hands, also covered in tiny scales, hidden beneath his sleeves. The one-eared sorcerer's dying words, "You're not even human," pierced his already numb heart like a cold awl, stirring up a complex ripple of bitterness and self-mockery.
Are they no longer human?
He stood silently for a long time, until the last trace of magical disturbance in the air completely subsided.
"I was at least once human, and I still retain a part of myself as human." The man in black robes slowly raised his head. The slight ripple in his vertical pupils caused by the revelation of his "inhuman" nature quickly subsided, replaced by the cold will of an executor. The mission was not yet completely complete.
Saruman's order was "not a single one can escape," and "ensuring absolute safety" was an ironclad rule ingrained in his sense of duty; he had to fulfill his responsibilities as a human being.
Therefore.
Only someone in black robes could be so ruthless.
He turned away, ignoring the grotesque ground beneath his feet, ravaged by complex dark magic and resembling an abstract painting, and the lingering echoes of souls' wails in the air.
"Da da da~"
The man in black robes strode forward, his figure disappearing back into the shadows, beginning the final assault on the entire underground prison.
It was also the most thorough inspection to date.
after all.
The man in black robes didn't want to make the same mistake a second time, and he also knew that this place was being used for the last time, just like today was the last day of his life.