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Only after confirming that not a single prisoner was left alive did the hooded figure continue downward.
Another round of slaughter began.
"You beasts! You're all monsters!" one prisoner screamed in fury. "I'll haunt every one of you after I die! The blood flowing through my veins belongs to..."
His words ended abruptly. Whatever powerful family or bloodline he came from no longer mattered; the hooded figure simply raised a hand, and the man's voice was silenced forever.
At the staircase leading even deeper underground, there was a cell holding a once-famous master of dark magic. When the hooded figure approached, the old wizard stood calmly in the middle of his cell with a strange smile.
"I always knew this day would come... Department of Mysteries executioner. I noticed something was wrong when that young wizard was dragged past earlier. So something really has happened. Tell me... was it 'that project'?"
This dark magic master clearly knew more than most.
For the first time, the hooded figure stopped. His hood turned slightly toward the prisoner, the darkness beneath concealing everything so completely that not even the outline of a face could be seen.
"So I guessed right," the old dark wizard's smile twisted. "I knew it. I knew you could never control something that horrifying. A taboo hidden within ancient legends... That forgotten history is even more terrifying than dea..."
'Pop.'
The hooded figure had lost his patience and didn't even let the man finish. The infamous dark wizard who had once terrified the entire African magical world quietly became another pool of blood and flesh. He wouldn't even leave behind a name in 'The Legend of Ian'.
As the purge continued deeper into the prison, the prisoners' resistance became increasingly desperate.
The instant one cell door opened, a gaunt wizard spat out a stream of green flames. It was Life-Bound Fiendfyre, a blaze he had secretly nurtured for three months.
"Why struggle when it's meaningless?" The hooded figure merely blew out a gentle breath, and the inferno, powerful enough to reduce an entire village to ashes, went out like a candle flame.
"That's impossi..." Before the wizard could finish speaking, he was crushed into an unrecognizable mass of flesh.
In another cell, a pair of twin brothers attacked together. One lunged forward with a spoon he had secretly sharpened into a blade, aiming for the hooded figure's eye, while the other sprayed a hidden poison.
The hooded figure didn't move. The sharpened spoon melted into molten iron just an inch before reaching his face, and the poison evaporated only a few centimeters from his robes. The next moment, both brothers dissolved into two pools of blood.
Most chilling of all was an elderly Seer confined in a special cell. When the hooded figure approached, she was kneeling in prayer.
"Oh... Lord..." Hearing the cell door open, she slowly looked up, tears filling her cloudy eyes. "I saw it... I saw the reflection of the city drifting among the stars." She pleaded softly, "Please... kill me before I completely lose my mind."
The hooded figure silently raised his hand. This time, he hesitated, but only for a brief moment.
Then...'Pop.'
He struck anyway. The Seer's body collapsed to the floor, but her eyes remained wide open, as though they were still fixed upon those horrifying visions that no ordinary person could ever comprehend.
By the time the purge reached the deepest level, the remaining prisoners had completely broken down. Some curled into corners, mumbling to themselves; some repeatedly smashed their heads against the walls; others tried to hang themselves with strips of torn clothing.
Even those attempts were "mercifully" interrupted by the hooded figure, who ended their suffering more quickly.
"Why?" an elderly wizard who had spent thirty years imprisoned here asked with his dying breath. "We're already locked away in this place... so why?"
For the first and only time, the hooded figure answered. "To witness... is itself a crime."
Then...'Pop.'
The old wizard became another pile of flesh.
When the final wet sound faded into silence at the deepest level of the prison, the entire underground facility fell deathly still.
"I am only carrying out the duty assigned to me," standing alone in the empty corridor, surrounded by bloodstains, the hooded figure spoke quietly to himself. Whether he was easing his own conscience or responding to someone else, no one knew.
"I understand," he said, raising his head slightly, as if listening to an unseen voice. Then he turned around and silently walked away, his footsteps carrying him through the blood-soaked corridors of the prison he had transformed into a slaughterhouse.
And he continued descending even deeper.
---
The hooded figure followed the spiraling stone staircase down into the deepest and most secret level of the African Ministry of Magic's underground prison.
The cells here were no longer packed together. Each one stood like an isolated fortress, carved entirely from anti-magic obsidian, with layer upon layer of powerful sealing runes engraved across the doors.
Anyone imprisoned here had once shaken the entire African continent with bloodshed; they were legendary criminals whose names alone were enough to frighten children into silence.
You could think of them as a whole prison full of Voldemorts. Actually, that wasn't quite accurate, most of these people had killed far more than Voldemort ever had. After all, Voldemort was ultimately just a terrorist.
"Looks like something happened upstairs," one of the prisoners looked toward the corridor.
The smell of blood hadn't reached this level yet, but an oppressive silence had already settled over the place. Everyone imprisoned here possessed exceptionally sharp senses. The commotion from above, coupled with the faint yet unending aura of death drifting downward, was enough to tell them exactly what was happening.
"So... the end has come."
The hooded figure stopped before the first cell, and the door slid open automatically. Inside sat an old man with bronze-colored skin covered in bizarre tattoos. He was Ma Kabu, the "Ancestor Spirit Devourer."
He had once single-handedly wiped out three ancient wizard tribes, devouring each tribe's guardian ancestral spirit to strengthen himself. His power had long since reached the threshold of Grandmaster. By Ian's own standards, that put him at roughly Headmaster level.
To be fair, that was already extraordinarily powerful, especially in Africa.
"You've come to kill me?" Ma Kabu slowly opened his eyes, where countless vengeful spirits seemed to howl within his pupils. He neither begged for mercy nor questioned his fate; he simply rose to his feet, releasing a savage aura like an ancient beast.
"So... this is my final moment," his hoarse voice carried the dignity of a predator. "Will you at least grant me a clean death, instead of disposing of me like garbage?"
The hooded figure gave a slight nod. For the first time, he responded differently. Instead of crushing his opponent from afar, he took half a step back and made a simple gesture.
"Please. You may die with dignity."
He had decided to give these warriors, those who had reached the pinnacle of mortal strength, one final chance to display their power before meeting an honorable death. With that, he deactivated the anti-magic barrier.
"Hm?" A flicker of surprise crossed Ma Kabu's eyes before it exploded into burning battle intent. "Good! Then let me see what the Department of Mysteries' executioner is truly capable of!"
His arms spread wide. A freezing wind howled through the cell as the temperature plummeted. Behind him, four colossal ancestral spirit phantoms emerged, each formed from countless twisted, screaming souls.
Their deafening roars shook the prison. These were the greatest ancestral spirits he had refined over his lifetime, each possessing power approaching that of its original form.
"Soul Devour!" Ma Kabu roared as both he and the four ancestral spirits charged at the hooded figure.
The spirits shrieked, and a tidal wave of psychic force surged ahead of them, powerful enough to instantly overwhelm an entire squad of Aurors.
The hooded figure remained exactly where he stood. He neither dodged nor defended. The soul-freezing psychic assault struck him like a gentle breeze brushing against a mountain; not even the hem of his robe moved.
As Ma Kabu and the ancestral spirits closed in, the hooded figure slowly raised his right hand. His fingers spread apart, then gently closed.
The same simple motion as before. No earth-shattering explosion, no dazzling display of magic. The four enormous ancestral spirit phantoms, along with Ma Kabu himself, simply froze in place. Then, beginning at the smallest level of their existence, they started to break apart, disintegrating until they vanished completely.
"How...?" The wild fighting spirit on Ma Kabu's face froze, replaced by absolute shock and confusion. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but before a single word could leave his lips, his voice disappeared along with the rest of him, completely erased from existence.
The cell fell silent once more, as though Ma Kabu had never existed.
"I never wanted power like this." The hooded figure walked to the next cell.
Inside was the "Desert Queen," Zara, a true master of elemental transmutation and sandstorm magic who had once turned an entire oasis into a land of death. The instant she saw him, she wasted no words and slammed both hands against the ground.
In an instant, the entire cell became a sea of quicksand. Countless creatures formed from enchanted sand erupted from below, metallic poisonous scorpions and enormous sand serpents. At the same time, every drop of moisture in the air was ripped away, transforming into a storm of microscopic, razor-sharp ice crystals that swept toward the hooded figure from every direction.
"You are all exceptional talents..." The hooded figure calmly raised a hand. "...What a pity."
The raging quicksand froze solid. The poisonous scorpions and sand serpents crumbled into dust, and the storm of ice crystals struck an invisible barrier, shattering apart with a chorus of sharp, tinkling sounds.
"How is this possible?!" Zara's expression changed dramatically, and she tried to unleash an even stronger spell.
"Let's end this here." The hooded figure had already lost interest. He simply clenched his hand from afar, and the queen who had once ruled over life and death in the desert vanished into dust along with her illusions.
The third cell held Kamba Ta, the "Blood Curse Master." Using his own blood as a catalyst, he specialized in deadly curses that were almost impossible to guard against, having once wiped out an entire rival family with his blood magic alone.
The moment the hooded figure entered, Kamba Ta bit through his tongue and spat out a mouthful of blood. The crimson mist instantly formed an incredibly intricate, skull-shaped seal that glowed with an ominous red light, shooting toward the hooded figure with the power of instant death itself.
"Killing Curse - Bloodline Erasure!" Kamba Ta roared. This was his strongest curse; once it struck, it would erase its target directly from the origin of their life.
The hooded figure watched the blood-red skull fly toward him without making the slightest move to defend himself. The curse entered within three feet of him and silently melted away like snow beneath a blazing sun. Not even a ripple remained.
Kamba Ta stood frozen in disbelief as his ultimate curse disappeared so effortlessly. "N-No... impossible... How can you..."
It seemed every criminal said the same thing, and none of them ever got to finish. The hooded figure gave him no time to think, raising a hand to end both Kamba Ta's confusion and his life.
"It's possible..." the hooded figure spoke a little more than before, "...But the price..." He gave a faint, bitter chuckle, and that was all. Even now, his sentences remained unfinished, a true master of speaking in riddles.
When the hooded figure opened the fourth cell, the prisoner inside didn't attack immediately. He was a tall old man wearing the tattered robes of a priest; his name was Kong Ge, the "Thunder Emperor." He had once stolen the divine power of a tribe's Thunder God, wielding heavenly lightning with every gesture.
Kong Ge stared at the hooded figure, his eyes filled with shock and deep suspicion.
"Power like this... isn't something an ordinary wizard could ever possess," his voice rumbled like distant thunder. "I've fought the spiritual avatar of a Tribal Guardian God before, yet even then I never felt such... bottomless helplessness. What exactly is the Ministry of Magic doing? Have you been stealing and merging the magical origins of other wizards? Is that why you're killing everyone who knows?"
He had clearly watched the previous battles, realized something was terribly wrong, and drawn his own conclusions.
Faced with the accusation, the hooded figure remained silent, like an ancient glacier that would never melt. He simply raised one hand, signaling for the battle to begin, as if telling Kong Ge to go ahead.
"Damn you! I know I can't beat you! But I refuse to die like a coward!" With a furious roar, Kong Ge stopped holding back.
Blinding lightning exploded from his body as he became the very incarnation of thunder itself. Lightning serpents danced wildly throughout the cell, filling the air with the smell of scorched ozone.
Then he unleashed the culmination of his life's work: a pillar of dark violet lightning as thick as a barrel crashed forward like the Spear of the Thunder God itself.
Divine Destruction Thunder, its overwhelming heavenly might was enough to flatten an entire mountain.
The hooded figure remained as motionless as ever. Facing the world-shaking attack, he simply raised one finger and lightly touched the incoming bolt.
There was no collision, no explosion. Just as before, the Divine Destruction Thunder, an attack that would force even a Legendary Wizard to take it seriously, vanished the instant it touched his fingertip. Its power, its light, and its destructive will were all swallowed into an invisible abyss, broken down and reduced to nothing.
"I knew it..." The fury on Kong Ge's face disappeared completely, replaced by pure, bewildered terror. "W-What... are you?" His voice trembled with despair as everything he believed collapsed around him.
The hooded figure offered no answer; he simply clenched his hand once more. The Thunder Emperor, Kong Ge, along with the question he would never have answered, passed into history.
At last, the hooded figure reached the deepest part of the corridor: the final cell. Inside was the blind wizard who had briefly spoken with Ian earlier.
The cell door slid open. The blind wizard remained seated cross-legged exactly where he was, his empty eye sockets facing toward the doorway and the hooded figure. There was no surprise on his face, only the calm of someone who already understood everything, and a trace of sorrow that he could not quite hide.
He had clearly sensed the massacre unfolding outside as one after another, familiar and unfamiliar powerful presences disappeared. He knew what had happened, but he didn't care about the end awaiting himself; there was something else that mattered far more to him.
"Teacher..."
The hooded figure stood quietly at the entrance instead of attacking immediately, as though waiting for something. That single word, 'Teacher', revealed that the blind wizard's identity was anything but ordinary.
(End of Chapter)