Valor's attack was not something Voldemort had never seen before, on the night he escaped from Hogwarts, Allen and Valor had joined forces to unleash a similar assault.
Back then, despite nearly being beaten half to death by Dumbledore, Voldemort still managed to easily find weaknesses in the inexperienced teamwork between Allen and Valor, breaking through their combined assault without difficulty.
But today was different, completely different.
Not only had Valor summoned a storm of birds, but the circle of wizards surrounding them left Voldemort no time to disrupt Valor's spellcasting. Even if the others only used stunning and non-lethal spells to avoid harming allies, at this moment, just those spells were enough to keep Voldemort constantly on the defensive.
When the vast flock of birds finally finished their savage attack, the birds scattered, leaving the ground littered with feathers and corpses, the ravens' corpses, of course. If Valor had accidentally killed Voldemort with birds, that would be... awkward to explain.
So this is how Voldemort falls, pecked to death by birds?
Of course, even if not dead, he was undoubtedly half-crippled, the title Harbinger of Doom wasn't earned by playing around.
After the raven assault, Voldemort's form became even more tattered, several loose feathers still clung to him. But he did not lose the ability to fight and quickly reinforced himself with a magical shield.
Unfortunately, it was already too late.
The moment Valor's attack ended, the surrounding wizards immediately switched spells, and, unspoken, formed coordinated roles: the African wizards unleashed control magic, while the three Aurors executed focused attacks.
Under this continuous wave of chain-combo spells, Voldemort's sand-colored shield grew thinner and thinner, while the offensive curses he fired back were easily dodged by the well-trained wizards.
It was clear now.
These battle-tested wizards had already completed the most basic coordination, they had formed a true raid team fighting a boss.
Having completed his strike, Valor landed on Allen's shoulder. At that moment, all the wizards felt a tremendous surge of magic pulse through the air, so strong that even they paused their attacks in shock.
Allen, who had been firing off spells occasionally, vanished from the group, reappearing high in the air the very next second.
The ravens that had not flown far gathered again, circling Allen in eerie spiraling patterns. In the end, they crashed together and wove themselves into a billowing black cloak behind him.
Suspended midair, Allen showed no sign of falling, in fact, despite the windless sky, the cloak behind him swelled as if filled with raging wind.
Then, before his eyes, countless ravens made entirely of pure violet magic began to manifest. Their numbers multiplied at the speed of dozens per second, forming a vast swirling purple cloud above the battlefield.
Voldemort, still defending himself from the surrounding wizards, suddenly widened his eyes, the green within them blazing fiercely. His wand moved sharply, and more than a dozen sand-formed puppets surged upward from the ground. Their bodies were wrapped in linen bandages, stained with smudges of blood and filth.
At another flick of his wand, the puppets' eyes flashed with crimson light, and their bodies swelled larger. They began to crawl toward the wizards at a slow, dragging pace.
This sluggish movement made the wizards relax a bit,
Even Inferi don't move this slow. These things are basically free targets.
"Run," Allen said from above, just one word.
Only Annie heard him, everyone else had already let down their guard.
As Annie leapt away, the wizards finally realized something was wrong. No matter how the two assigned wizards attacked the puppets, the sand puppets continued forward, almost as if the bandages absorbed their magic.
But it was already too late.
When the puppets reached a certain distance, their long bandages shot outward, latching onto the wizards. Then, dragged by the bandages, the slow-moving sand puppets were flung forward at terrifying speed.
When these puppets descended, their bandages exploded, instantly wrapping an entire section of the battlefield. The wizards caught inside could no longer move. Worse,
the puppets began draining their magic, swelling larger as they absorbed energy.
A terrifying realization struck them,
Are these things going to explode?!
They didn't even need to.
In their immobilized state, a single Killing Curse would have been enough to end them.
But the one capable of casting that curse, was no longer trying to kill anyone.
Instead, dozens of threads of sand wrapped around Voldemort, forming a thick tether that extended to a distant sand dune, dragging him away from the battlefield.
Yes, Voldemort chose to run.
The spell he had once reserved for a counterattack was now used solely to buy time for escape.
From the moment Allen began forming the storm of magic ravens, Voldemort felt the chilling presence of death closing in. His desire for a comeback vanished, his only remaining instinct was to flee. Even if it meant abandoning the ritual needed for his power, even if the curse would soon drive him into madness again, he still chose life.
But, it was too late.
On his third leap, a circle of deathly aura materialized beneath him.
From it, several clawed hands rose from the earth, gripping his ankles tightly. Immediately after, vines wrapped around him, sealing off all movement.
Then, the massive purple cloud in the sky collapsed at once, pouring downward like a tidal wave of magic.
BOOOOM.
When the tide receded, nothing remained.
Only a scattered pile of sand.
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