Chapter 165: Battle
Chapter 165: Battle
The solid wooden doors of the Great Hall were blasted into countless fragments, and red laser-like beams swept through the room, filling the air with smoke and debris.
Felix casually deflected a spell—a Stunning Spell.
"Such weak magic", he thought, surprised.
But the next second, a red beam shot directly at him, colliding with an invisible barrier and producing a low, booming sound.
Felix curled his lips into a smirk. "Now that's more like it."
He effortlessly pulled Professor Burbage to her feet, and she frantically pushed her ginger hair out of her face. "What's happening? What's going on?"
Felix didn't respond. With the dual effects of the Enhanced Perception Spell and memory acceleration, everything around him slowed down.
Professor Burbage's questions seemed to drag on, and the arcs of spells moved more slowly.
As a dozen spells approached, he was already prepared, using a Shield Charm to deflect them.
"Whoosh!"
With a light sound, Felix used apparition to bring Professor Burbage to the seventh floor of the hotel. "Professor Burbage, I checked earlier. The sixth and seventh floors are unoccupied and won't be targeted by the attackers. Find a room and hide."
He had confirmed this earlier when Celeste and the weathered-faced wizard had chosen a secluded place to discuss private matters.
"O-Okay", Burbage stammered, her throat dry with fear. The scene she had just witnessed was too intense; she had never seen so many spells in her life.
Felix's earlier warnings flashed through her mind.
Felix's body twisted and vanished, leaving a faint trail of black smoke. In the next instant, he reappeared at the railing on the second floor of the Great Hall.
He tilted his head to avoid a stray red arrow, then stood tall, surveying the scene below.
The room was in shambles—doors blown open, furniture shattered, and burn marks everywhere. The attack had been sudden, and most of the muggle research experts lay on the ground, though from their state, they appeared to be only unconscious.
'Huh, these attackers are holding back?'
His gaze swept the room, and his mind processed the details at high speed.
This was the starting requirement of Instant Kill Tactics—reading the battlefield to gather useful information.
On one side of the conflict were three factions: Celeste and the weathered-faced man, hiding behind the podium, belonged to the American Congress of Magic;
Maxwell and two young Aurors were crouched behind a stone column, likely assigned as guards by the French Ministry of Magic;
The remaining dozen or so muggle experts were scattered around, barely managing to defend themselves.
On the other side were the attackers, all wearing black robes with white star decorations and masks. There were twenty-seven of them, and more were pouring in.
"Noelle Celeste! Come out!"
One of the attackers shouted, and in the same moment, the windows on the fourth floor of the Great Hall exploded. Seven or eight black-robed wizards on brooms burst in, circling the ceiling and diving to cast spells.
Felix immediately cast a spell to knock two of the attacking wizards out of the air, causing the others to back off in fear.
Celeste, hiding behind the podium, snarled like a lion. "It was abolished in 1965!"
"Do you know what you've done? You're fighting against the Congress of Magic!"
She seemed to be explaining, but this only seemed to enrage the attackers further.
"Liars!"
"This is a deception!"
The attackers were well-organized, divided into four smaller teams: front, back, left, and right. Each team had members responsible for attacking and others for defense, providing cover for each other as they advanced, taking control of most of the Great Hall and forcing the Ministry of Magic side into a corner.
And even more terrifying was the constant influx of black-robed wizards into the room. The enemy seemed endless, filling Maxwell with despair.
The last attack only involved five people, but this time it must be ten times that number.
The French Ministry of Magic had already been cautious enough, deploying twelve Aurors in two combat teams, enough to sweep through an entire black market. But this time, they lost terribly, with seven of them falling in the first confrontation.
There was only one reason—there were simply too many of them! Spells came from all directions, leaving no room for evasion.
Maxwell gritted his teeth and glanced at his comrades. Including himself, there were only three left, with the other nine already in the hands of the enemy.
He could only pray that the department would quickly notice the anomaly and send reinforcements.
...
Felix was confused. The attackers' goal was simple: Noelle Celeste. And Celeste seemed to know that she was the target, even knowing who they were.
She called out from behind two stone pillars to Maxwell, "Don't use lethal spells!"
But the battlefield was not something she could control, and showing mercy in combat was a bad idea. A red beam struck Maxwell, stiffening his body, followed by seven or eight more.
In his stunned expression, the spells sent him flying, crashing heavily into the column behind him.
"Maxwell!"
A young Auror's eyes turned red. He gritted his teeth and cast a black spell, a cloud of black mist coalescing into a sharp dagger in mid-air, piercing the chest of one of the attackers. Blood spurted from the wound.
"Bethany!" the attackers cried in anguish, and their spells became even more vicious.
Despite not understanding the truth, Felix knew he had to intervene—before things became irreparable.
He raised his hand, casting a Crushing Curse. The spell struck the chandelier on the ceiling, shattering it along with half the ceiling, showering the room with dust and debris.
The barrage of red light momentarily weakened.
Felix's figure appeared abruptly in the center of the Great Hall. He calmly and precisely waved his wand, a stream of Stunning Spells flying from the tip. As the dust settled, seven attackers lay on the ground.
"End-all spell!"
Felix planted his wand in the ground, and a wave of red light surged out, sweeping through the attackers, Muggle experts, Aurors, and officials from the American Congress of Magic. They were thrown back like wheat stalks, their spells dying mid-cast.
Everyone's eyes were fixed on the sudden appearance, watching him slowly stand up, his face expressionless as he raised his wand.
The Great Hall was silent, the sound of breathing clearly audible. It took several seconds—
"Take him down!" a calm voice from the attackers commanded.
But the dozen spells only hit the black smoke he left behind. Then, everyone witnessed a scene they would never forget: Felix's figure flickered, each appearance accompanied by a brilliant red beam.
At one point, they saw seven shadows of Felix at once.
The assault team that managed to advance to the front of the Great Hall was almost entirely wiped out in a few seconds, and the other three teams were in disarray.
'They are too weak. Despite their formation, their individual skills are lacking. Without the protection of their team, they have no basic self-defense awareness, like bullying children...'
Felix didn't feel the satisfaction of casting spells. Instead, his confusion grew. If he had to compare, some of their spells were even weaker than Percy Weasley's.
'The members' skill levels vary widely. They don't use Killing Curses or dark magic, lack combat experience, and their spells are not powerful...'
'Where did these attackers come from?'
(End of Chapter)
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