Hoffa staggered past the gate, stumbling as he rushed into Durmstrang. No one knew the pain in his heart at this moment; no one understood the torment tearing him apart from within. The intense emotions and agony wrapped around him like a violent storm.
The pain was so overwhelming that he barely knew what he was doing. To pass through this gate, he had hurt the last family he had left in this world. But if he didn't go through, how could he stop Sylby?
Stopping Sylby had become his sole obsession, the only thing keeping him going.
But... was it all still worth it?
He glanced back, but Miranda's figure had already disappeared. His foot caught on something, causing him to trip. As he hit the ground, he turned his head and saw a corpse—a wizard cloaked in thick robes. A gaping hole had been torn through the man's chest.
Strangely, there was no blood around the wound, only a charred and scorched opening. Hoffa reached out to touch the man's gradually cooling neck, and his heart sank. He bit his lip, pushed himself up, and quickened his pace.
Above him, an ominous storm was beginning to form.
A vast and unparalleled psychic force field emerged amidst flashes of lightning.
Looking at the massive vortex in the sky, an overwhelming fear gripped Hoffa's heart. But it wasn't fear of death—it was fear that the timeline was shifting once again. He had come this far, done so much… Was he still doomed to fail in the end?
Had he hurt Miranda, abandoned everything, only to still be unable to see Aglaea?
"No… no…"
Hoffa pushed himself forward, running with all his might.
More and more corpses littered the path ahead.
They were Durmstrang students and wizards, some lying in the snow, others slumped against statues. Their postures varied, but they all had the same charred, gaping hole in their chests.
The black thunderclouds above spun violently as if an invisible hand was stirring them into chaos. The sheer magnitude of the energy was beyond imagination. For a moment, Hoffa was reminded of the storm over the Pacific—the unstoppable force, the crushing weight of its power.
As he neared the storm's center, his steps instinctively slowed.
Through the flashing lightning, he saw a sight that made his blood run cold.
Durmstrang's castle, shaped like a massive hand, had tilted downward. A tall, gray-haired man sat atop the structure, with the statue of Salazar Slytherin kneeling in submission at his feet. He no longer appeared tired or weak; he was flawless, like a sculpture.
He stood with one foot on Salazar Slytherin's head, absentmindedly stroking an emerald scepter in one hand. In the other, he clutched a woman's hair, lifting her limp body into the air. Her face was covered in blood, and she hung motionless.
"Ossivia!!"
Hoffa let out a heart-wrenching scream.
Ossivia didn't move. She merely dangled from the man's grip.
The nightmare unfolding before him made Hoffa clench his fists until his nails dug into his skin.
But no matter how hard he bit down, he couldn't wake up from this. This was reality—a cruel, merciless reality.
Sylby slowly lifted his eyelids, and in an instant, a storm of magic swept across everything in Hoffa's vision. The magic sliced through the ground like a blade, slashing through the sky, through Hoffa, and through Ossivia.
Her body was torn open by countless gashes. Hoffa gritted his teeth, his form shifting into that of a golden birdman. He dragged his cross-shaped sword forward, vanishing in a ghostly blur before appearing in front of Sylby.
And then, he saw them—those terrifyingly indifferent eyes.
The owner of those eyes opened his mouth and bit down—directly onto the descending cross sword.
Clang!
Metal clashed against metal.
The sword, sharp enough to cut through iron like butter, shattered between Sylby's teeth!
As shards of broken steel scattered through the air, Sylby casually shook his gray hair aside and pressed the scepter against Hoffa's chest.
Boom!
A surge of magic, nearly beyond comprehension, erupted.
Hoffa, in his golden phoenix form, was blasted away. Like a meteor, he crashed into the ground of Durmstrang, leaving behind a massive crater over a hundred meters wide.
Amid the trembling earth, Hoffa lay in the cracked pit, his once-golden chest now completely caved in. He coughed up a mouthful of blood.
Above, through the swirling clouds and lightning, a distorted figure was flung into the air. It tumbled uncontrollably before crashing down with a sickening crack in front of Hoffa.
Moments ago, Ossivia had still been alive. Now, she was nothing but a twisted corpse. Her bones were shattered, her body covered in wounds, her neck completely broken.
Hoffa stared at her lifeless body as despair consumed his mind.
All the promises he had made, all the confidence he once had—it all crumbled into dust. That corpse lying before him seemed to mock everything he had ever done.
At the center of the storm, Sylby stood atop Salazar Slytherin's statue. He looked up and said indifferently, "It wasn't as difficult as I expected. Just five extra years... But really, who cares?"
As he spoke, a magnificent wizard's robe materialized over his body. The fabric billowed as he floated into the air, drifting slowly toward Hoffa.
Hoffa watched the elegantly descending wizard, his eyes filled with nothing but despair.
Sylby hovered a meter above Hoffa, gazing down at him with cold amusement.
"How disappointing," he murmured. "I was expecting a thrilling battle, but what I got instead was a broken man. What's this? Have you come to me seeking comfort?"
Hoffa looked up at Sylby's towering figure.
The monstrous power surrounding him burned with unrestrained fury.
At that moment, nightmare and reality overlapped.
Even in his prime, with the power of time at his command, he hadn't been able to defeat Sylby. And now, in this reality that was even more terrifying than any nightmare…
What could he do? What could he do?
Sylby, seeing the emptiness in Hoffa's eyes, sneered.
"So eager to die?" he mocked. "Since you once entertained me, I'll grant your wish."
He pressed a hand against Hoffa's head, ready to crush it.
Suddenly, a voice called out from behind.
"Stop!"
Hoffa's entire body trembled.
Even without turning around, he knew who had spoken.
It was the last voice he wanted to hear at this moment.
Why did that fool have to interfere? Why hadn't they just left?
Outside the pit, Miranda faced Sylby and shouted, "You promised me! You said he could return to the dream world, back to the life he once shared with me. You never said anything about killing him!"
"Ahaha…" Sylby lowered his head, looking into Hoffa's hollow eyes.
"So this is the wife you married in your little dream world? How utterly foolish and naïve."
He sighed, "But there's nothing that can be done. Women, at times, are indeed willing to risk everything for a man. But while women can do this, men cannot."
"Miranda, let's go."
Hoffa slowly turned his head, looking at Miranda, and said, "It's already over. We've failed."
"You promised me," Miranda stubbornly stared at Sylby.
Sylby shrugged, stretched lazily, and said,
"So what? Haven't you ever experienced your father promising to buy you a toy as a child, only for him not to follow through? What are you going to do, cry and blame him? Don't be ridiculous. A father is a father because he has the right to lie. And that right is—"
Sylby grinned widely. He lifted Hoffa's body and smashed it heavily onto the ground, roaring with sheer exhilaration, "POWER!!"
Boom!!
Hoffa crashed into a soft barrier.
The barrier caved in deeply, sinking more than ten meters under the terrifying impact before finally dissipating the force.
However, as the barrier collapsed, Miranda coughed up blood on the spot. Yet, despite this, she clenched her fist, gritted her teeth, and pulled Hoffa back, wrapping him in that soft barrier and rapidly retreating with him.
Watching Hoffa being dragged away, Sylby flexed his fingers and sniffed at them near his nose, murmuring, "The scent of life. Ah, what an interesting magic. Did you develop it yourself? You're quite the clever one."
Hoffa landed at Miranda's feet, still encased in the barrier. Blood dripped from Miranda's lips as she trembled and said, "You've already broken the curse. You can go wherever you want now. Why are you still fixated on a powerless wizard?"
Floating in the air, Sylby spread his hands. "You see, even after I was cursed, the Ministry of Magic never stopped hunting me down. You've followed me for quite some time—haven't you realized it yet? This great power, I will not allow anyone but myself to possess it. And that, of course, includes you.
"But unlike him, you can strip away your magic and replace it with another persona. As long as you kill that persona—or let me do it for you—you'll be free to leave unharmed."
"I see… Men really are liars. But I suppose that's nothing surprising."
Miranda took off her glasses, tied up her hair, and said, "For just a moment, I was willing to be deceived."
She turned to Hoffa, her expression calm. "I won't watch you die."
Hoffa stared into her eyes, his voice filled with agony. "Please… don't."
He knew—Miranda was no match for Sylby. What she was doing was nothing but a futile act of self-sacrifice, a moth flying into the flame, an egg striking against stone, a path to certain death.
"It's too late, isn't it?" Miranda said.
Sylby did not make a move. He simply floated in the air, arms crossed, watching patiently.
Miranda was the first to act. She opened her palms, turned them slightly, and two magic circles appeared around Sylby's wrists. As the circles spun, Sylby fell from the sky.
Miranda's face turned pale, veins bulging on the back of her hands. It was clear that using this spell against a wizard like Sylby was an immense strain. Yet Sylby himself remained composed, calmly studying the magic circles on his hands as if admiring a work of art.
"Anti-magic, huh? How naive."
He muttered as he leisurely unfolded his arms and walked toward them.
Miranda, seeing him approach, turned her back to Hoffa and said, "Go. Use that miraculous Disillusionment Charm and run. Find Aya. Tell her… I'm sorry."
Hoffa staggered to his feet. He wanted to leave, or fight back, or do something—but he had no strength left. His head throbbed in unbearable pain, growing worse and worse.
If there was no loop—if he only had one chance—what should he do? What could he do?
What was stopping him?
Was his desire not strong enough? Had he not tried hard enough?
Why? Why was he so useless?
Why, after all this time, had he still not regained his full strength?
What was missing? What was he lacking?
Why had he once defeated Grindelwald and Death itself, yet now he was utterly powerless?
Why was he being forced to witness this same terror and despair all over again?
Over and over. Again and again.
"Go."
Miranda leaned against the barrier. "If you don't, you'll regret it again."
Go?
Where?
Had Hoffa Bach fallen so far that he could only survive under a woman's protection?
Had he truly sunk to such a pathetic state as time passed?
Had six thousand loops left his soul this fragile?
As if answering his doubt, a crisp sound rang out.
Sylby had finished admiring the anti-magic spell. With ease, he broke free. He casually stretched his arm, his cold, merciless gaze lifting as a massive lightning spear formed in his hand.
Thinking of the dead Durmstrang wizards, Hoffa collapsed to his knees in despair, covering his eyes. In this moment, his spirit shattered completely, his will utterly crumbled, his power entirely drained.
He was so helpless that he could not bear to watch what came next.
Seeing Hoffa still unmoving, Miranda reached out and shoved him with all her might. The barrier propelled him far away, sending him tumbling backward. He struggled fiercely, writhing in resistance.
Sylby smirked at the sight, letting out a burst of laughter.
Then, suddenly, he lowered his lightning spear and began kneading it between his hands like clay. The enormous spear shifted, changing shape into a lightning sphere. Then, as if it were nothing but a basketball, he casually bounced it against the ground.
Seeing Sylby seemingly uninterested in attacking, Miranda pushed Hoffa all the way to the edge of Durmstrang's campus. The barrier halted there, and she disappeared with a flicker.
A moment later, she reappeared at Hoffa's side, reaching for his wrist, trying to Apparate them away from this nightmare.
Hoffa loosened his grip and looked at Miranda rushing toward him. For a fleeting second, hope flickered in his heart.
Could it be that Sylby was letting them go?
But just then—
Boom!!!!
A blinding bolt of lightning struck.
The sphere of lightning crashed into Miranda's body.
In the distance, Sylby whistled, then clenched his fist and cheered for himself.
"Three-pointer! Nailed it~!"
On the other side, Hoffa had completely collapsed.
He clung to the barrier, his eyes wide in horror, pupils constricting to their limit.
His mind had shut down entirely.
The only thing left in his world was the sight of the girl beyond the barrier—her pale face, blood spilling from her lips.
Miranda looked down at the gaping hole in her chest.
She stared at it for a moment before lifting her head and murmuring, "Not bad… at least it wasn't what I envisioned."
Slowly, she began to fall from the sky.
"Miranda…"
Hoffa reached out, catching her light, fragile body.
"Go."
Miranda whispered to him one last time.
(End of Chapter)
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