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There was no emotion on the stone-faced creature—no sorrow, no rage. Demons were tools of war, and even death couldn't stir fear in their hearts. Although higher-level demons possessed thought and intelligence, they resembled tools more than beings with independent will.
The Abyss had created them. The Abyss had nurtured them. Their sole reason for existence—was to fight for the Abyss until death.
For a fleeting moment, the cold, obsidian eyes of the stone creature locked with Harry's gaze. A whistling punch forced the half-dragon warrior, perched atop its chest, to retreat. Even with the protective scales of the Storm Dragon shielding him, Harry had no desire to experience the full force of that violent iron-fist blow.
But at this point, he was confident.
"If only I had a decent weapon... Clawing at fists isn't exactly efficient."
However, mastering the second-stage Animagus transformation still required time. Until his alchemic armor fully fused with his body, the only offensive tools his half-dragon form could utilize were his dragon claws.
Partial transformation also restricted his ability to cast magic. Aside from the power of the Awakener Runes, even his formidable psychic energy was suppressed. Whether magic spells or psychic force, they all relied on complete internal magical circuits. The current incomplete transformation left him heavily limited.
Still, taking down a demon commander wasn't an issue—even this two-faced variant, significantly stronger than its average counterparts.
"Trying to run, are you?"
In a flash, Harry stamped down and vanished like a shadow, reappearing to block the demon's escape toward the distant main battlefield. As reinforcements from the Abyssal Inquisitor Legion continued to arrive, the tide of battle had shifted. The demon army, once a unified wave under the command of three Demon Warlords, was now splintered into fragments.
Against seasoned veterans, the young demon warlords—whose combined lifespans barely reached a year—were as inexperienced as infants. Though intelligent, they still lacked the practical knowledge that only time and battle could teach.
The demons had no innate inheritance of wisdom or knowledge. They fought purely on instinct and brute force, wasting their strength with each move. It was this very absence of magical inheritance that had prevented them from ever crushing the spellcasters—the very reason wizards had survived as the demonkind's deadliest enemies.
As the demons fell one after another, their released energy fueled a wild frenzy across the battlefield. Their dwindling numbers only seemed to enhance their intensity. More and more demon centurions—and even new demon commanders—emerged, trampling over the corpses of their kin, engaging the advancing wizard reinforcements under the leadership of the three Warlords.
Even the elite Abyssal Inquisitor Legion couldn't avoid casualties. Uncle Tian's Pandaren heavy cavalry had already withdrawn from the front line. Taking their place was a squadron of twenty-five dragon riders.
Unlike the massive fire dragons commonly seen, these specially bred beasts were small—barely ten feet long—and classified as miniature fire dragons. Yet their broad, powerful wings enabled them to fly without relying heavily on innate magic. Their minimal magical signature made them perfectly suited for deep-abyss warfare. Compared to magical flying tools like broomsticks, these dragons were far more resilient to interference and vastly more agile.
At the sight of the compact dragon riders, Harry suddenly remembered what the twins had told him: their older brother Charlie had taken a secret post and become a dragon rider. These must be the very same drake-riders they had mentioned.
"When will I get to fly like that?" he muttered wistfully.
Dodging another devastating punch from the twin-faced demon commander, Harry slipped in close once more. His claws locked onto the joints of the creature's shoulders. Then his folded, flightless wings unfurled in a sudden burst. A flash of iron-gray light gleamed at their tips—and in that moment of distraction, an X-shaped slash was carved across the commander's exposed chest.
Strike and retreat. Without an edge in strength or defense, agility and precision were key to victory.
"You've got five lives left."
Another magic node had been destroyed. Yet the demon commander showed not the slightest sign of weakening.
Thundering footsteps resounded across the battlefield as a mountain-like stone giant shattered the gray-red abyssal ground beneath him. Mid-charge, his body began to crack and fragment. The broken rocks, disintegrating into dust before they could even touch the ground, signaled the surge of speed—suddenly, the demon commander's pace increased by a third, catching Harry completely off guard.
By condensing his internal magical energy and shedding his bulky form, the demon had traded brute strength for heightened agility. Though demons fought on instinct and reflex, it didn't mean they were mindless. Each battle honed them further, allowing them to absorb experience and transform it into power.
As the creature lunged, its wings, now shaped into a protective shield, slammed toward Harry's chest. But Harry met the ambush with a twisted smile on his half-dragon face.
"Idiot."
He spat the insult with disdain. After all, by giving up the overwhelming power that once suppressed him, the demon had sealed its fate.
Sweep—leverage—back throw—cross lock.
Then, with a shout, he exploded with power!
With a sharp crack, the demon's rocky arm was snapped in half. Harry rolled to his feet, hurling the severed limb away like trash.
"When you could overpower everything with brute force, I had to be cautious in close quarters. But now? What the hell even are you?"
The demon commander's broken arm began to regenerate at an alarming speed—but no one was going to give it time to stabilize.
The hunter and prey had switched roles.
Harry lunged. Pinning the demon beneath him, he crushed the commander to the ground. From that moment on, the outcome was inevitable.
And then—it began to rain.
A unique phenomenon of the abyssal battlefield's core region had commenced. Long ago, after slaying the Abyssal Demon God, the Awakeners had stitched closed the main rift between the world and the Abyss. They shattered all minor branch paths, hoping to seal the link for good. Yet the main rift could not be fully sealed. The wound needed time—and the will of the world itself—to heal.
But with so many demonspawn hatched over time, it seemed the world's will had grown weak. Even after a thousand years, the wound still hadn't fully closed.
The Abyss kept corroding it, seeking to reopen the gateway. This constant struggle drastically slowed the world's natural recovery.
And now, this rain—a torrent—was the result of abyssal lifeforms attempting to force their way through the broken channel. The shattered passage no longer allowed fully formed demons through; even the tiniest demon spores were ground to bits in the transit.
But these fragments and remains served as fertilizer, nurturing the core-zone demons into endless cycles of rebirth. The dead were broken down, recycled into nutrients, fueling new growth—until one day, the abyssal forces could finally overwhelm the defenders of the battlefield.
Thus began the thousand-year war between humanity's wizards and the demonkind.
But this time, the rain fell with a ferocity unlike anything before.
The demon commander—already dismembered by Harry, its limbs torn off and four magical cores shattered—was now being baptized by this deluge. Each drop of "heaven's gift" triggered an explosive resurgence. With a terrifying roar, it broke free of Harry's grip.
And it wasn't alone.
The previously dwindling demon army experienced an unprecedented surge in strength!
Fourth! Fifth! Sixth!
Three more demon commanders instantly evolved—each absorbing enough magical energy to complete the final step toward becoming a Demon Warlord.
Then—
A blinding burst of light exploded mid-air.
The abyssal battlefield entered Level-One War Alert—a full-scale mobilization status, only activated during the annual Demonic Tide.
The wizards quickly gathered and began their retreat. The six Demon Warlords, now assembled, were already the standard force for the annual Abyssal Tide. Under normal circumstances, a controlled Tide would feature only five to seven Demon Warlord commanders. But with six Demon Warlords appearing in such close proximity, the thousand-strong Abyssal Judicator Legion that had gathered in the area was no longer sufficient to handle them.
Harry too prepared to withdraw. Having thoroughly studied the regulations of the Abyssal battlefield, he knew exactly what to do. The current situation, compared to what was to come, was insignificant—this somewhat special Demon Commander was hardly a major threat.
But suddenly, a pair of obsidian stone eyes locked onto him. Under the magical rain that poured from the sky, the wounds on the Demon Commander began to heal at an astonishing rate. Its broken limbs regenerated, and even the shattered magical core began to solidify once more.
Demons, who feed on magical energy, become the most troublesome opponents when they have an abundance of it to consume.
The Demon Commander, still seething from the wounds Harry had inflicted, was now intent on taking revenge.
Once again, the two massive figures clashed. The demon's previously weakened strength surged back as it fought with renewed fury. Harry's half-dragon form bore the brunt of the assault, scales shattered, and blood spilled from his torn winged armor.
But just as the battle intensified, a sound like the shattering of the heavens echoed across the battlefield. Looking up at the sky, Harry saw something he had never anticipated.
The rift in the world—the wound stitched together by the Awakeners—began to tremble violently. The twisted lines of space fractured, and before anyone could react, an immense, abyssal force violently tore open the sealed passage!
A blinding white light pierced the heavens, cutting through the wound between the worlds. A destructive radiance, at least a kilometer wide, shot into the ranks of the already terrifying Demon Army, which had just birthed its seventh Demon Warlord.
In an instant, all resistance was wiped away.
The demons' existence was eradicated in the blink of an eye. A vast, unfathomable chasm appeared where the Demon Army had once stood. The Abyssal Judicator Legion, barely escaping the storm's wrath, had been blown away like paper scraps, powerless to resist.
As the white light faded, the massive rift in the world revealed the abyssal world beyond—its vivid crimson hue was a stark contrast to the familiar surroundings.
However, contrary to expectations, the world that had birthed countless demons now showed signs of breaking apart.
Millions—no, billions of demons—vanished under the onslaught of hundreds of massive warships. Above them, several dozen colossal warships, each hundreds of meters long, loomed. Their guns still crackled with residual light, and below, on the land of the Abyss, humanoid soldiers in exoskeleton-like armor resisted the relentless demon onslaught, delivering their deaths in turn.
Then, towering over the chaos, a Demon King appeared, easily a thousand meters tall, far stronger than even a Demon Warlord. A massive hole was punched through its chest, the result of the destructive light that had just torn open the rift between worlds.
Yet, the Demon God was not dead. With six mighty arms, it grasped the very air, crushing a third of the warships from hundreds of kilometers away.
All this transpired in mere moments. Several small dots of light flickered in front of the shattered rift.
The legendary Hufflepuff alumnus—Sethiralys Sgeji—now stood at the forefront of the gathered wizards. But he was no longer the same man Harry had once known.
A wave of unimaginable magical energy emanated from him and his companions. The magic of the Awakeners, thick and viscous like the world's heaviest mud, made it nearly impossible for anyone to even breathe while within its influence.
The world's authority had once again fully unleashed for the Awakeners!
Even the fire that lay dormant within Harry—the ember passed down from his mother, Lily Evans—was ignited and burned brightly within him.
Harry's half-dragon form was forcibly undone as an iron-gray magical aura enveloped him, taking on the sheen of steel.
It was as if Harry had gained something—or perhaps, nothing at all. The strange emptiness filled him, and he stumbled, falling to the ground. For a brief moment, he felt an invisible, enormous gaze sweep over his body. It was as if an indifferent, cold "mother" was watching him, and though he desperately longed for her love, he also feared her touch.
The violently torn rift began to heal once more. Amid the grand chant of the Awakeners, the passage to the Abyss slowly and steadily began to close, the surrounding space mending perfectly in sync.
The invisible, colossal eyes seemed to withdraw their gaze. A weary, almost defeated voice echoed in Harry's ears as the will of the world began to retreat, exhausted by its efforts.
But now, the once-sealed gate had been opened again. Some wanted to shut it, but there were others who sought to keep it open forever.
The Abyssal Demon God's roar reverberated through the tunnel linking the two worlds. Far in the distant sky, a warship left a glaring trail of light behind it.
Both the old Abyss and the new, foreign forces that had become entwined with it, now turned their insatiable curiosity and greed toward the world Harry called home.
After all, it was the wealth of an entire world—a treasure too vast for any being to resist.
(End of chapter)