Unprecedented. Unprecedented!!!
From the day Hogwarts was built, it had never suffered an invasion of dark creatures on such a scale, yet today that record was shattered!
And these dark creatures were actually placed around the school by the Ministry of Magic itself—this only made it more infuriating.
Rhys's hand gripped the armrest of the spectator seat. The wooden armrest let out a mournful creak before cracking under his grip; splinters pierced into his palm, and blood stained the wood red, yet Rhys remained completely unaware.
Right now, Rhys felt as though his reason had been completely devoured by anger. His pupils gradually elongated and narrowed vertically, and a dangerous aura seeped out, impossible to suppress.
The students sitting near him couldn't help but shiver. Most assumed it was the weather, but Daphne and Astoria noticed something was off. The two of them, seated on either side, turned their heads toward Rhys at the same time—and immediately realised something was wrong.
Astoria, being sharper-eyed, spotted Rhys's hand gripping the armrest and her pupils constricted sharply.
What on earth had happened?
Due to the angle, Daphne didn't see that scene; she only felt that Rhys's expression had grown very grim.
"Rhys, you—"
"Watch the match." Rhys's voice carried almost no emotion as he gave the order—Daphne's voice had pulled his reason back just a little, reminding him that he was still in the spectator stands. If he wanted to continue living at Hogwarts as a student, it was best to rein in the fury in his heart.
He forced himself to calm down, then told Daphne and Astoria to keep watching the game quietly.
Rhys's tone sent a shiver down both Daphne's and Astoria's spines. They immediately turned their heads away, burying all their confusion and questions deep inside.
They had never seen Rhys so angry before, and figured something major must have happened. Right now, the best help they could give him was not to cause him any more trouble.
After "settling" the Greengrass sisters, Rhys lifted his head and looked up at the sky, the rain showing no sign of lessening. Instead, he suddenly smiled. How many years had it been… who was the last one who dared to fight him in the rain? Was it Jörmungandr?
He turned his palm upward toward the sky and began releasing his magic power without the slightest restraint.
Ordinary young wizards noticed nothing, but Daphne and Astoria, who had studied the principles of mana flow in a systematic way, sensed the anomaly instantly.
Daphne: ?!
Astoria: !!!
The surge of magic emanating from Rhys was simply overwhelming. Sitting beside him, the two felt as if they were adrift on a raft in a vast ocean—and beneath the waves was a deep, lightless abyss.
It was as though, in the very next moment, they would be swallowed whole by that abyss.
A thin layer of cold sweat broke out on both of them, and they quickly withdrew from their magic-sight, no longer observing Rhys's magic.
Once they shut down their magic-sight, that feeling of being devoured finally faded, but sitting between them, Rhys still gave them an intense psychological pressure—as if they were seated beside a volcano on the verge of erupting.
That fleeting glimpse had also made Daphne and Astoria clearly aware of the gap between them and Rhys.
They had thought the difference could at least be measured in numbers—that he was perhaps ten times, a hundred times, even a thousand times stronger than they were—but after the comparison just now, they realized it was the difference between a lone leaf-boat and the boundless sea.
Daphne blinked: Rhys is way too strong… what on earth did he grow up eating?
Astoria, however, lowered her head in thought: Rhys is definitely not an ordinary student. Who exactly is he?
Rhys knew perfectly well that both Daphne and Astoria had noticed something, but he didn't care. The pressing matter now was to deal with the Dementors.
Soon, the clouds over the Quidditch pitch were saturated with Rhys's magic. This magic descended with the rain, quickly spreading his power across the entire pitch, and then expanding outward at an astonishing speed.
At this moment, with just a wave of his hand, Rhys could instantly unfold a domain covering half of Hogwarts.
As Rhys detected the problem and took action, Helga, sitting in the Hufflepuff stands, also sensed the arrival of the intruders.
When she discovered the school was under attack, the anger in her heart was no less than Rhys's. However, unlike the "hot-blooded" Salazar, she, in her twilight years, was far more adept at controlling her emotions. She showed no outward signs of abnormality, merely fixing her gaze on the direction from which the Dementors were approaching, fury burning in her eyes.
The Hufflepuff stands began to sway slightly, cracks forming in the ground around the supporting posts, and the tremors of the earth started to spread outward.
In barely more than ten seconds, Rhys's magic had claimed the skies, while Helga's had taken the earth. Their magic surged at an astonishing speed toward the direction from which the Dementors had breached.
The rest of the school—students and staff alike—remained completely unaware, their minds still immersed in the ongoing match, merely feeling that the weather had grown a little colder and the stands were shaking a bit more than before.
Only one person was an exception.
Albus Dumbledore raised his head, a flicker of doubt flashing in his eyes behind his half-moon spectacles.
He vaguely felt that something was… wrong? The surroundings seemed to have suddenly grown… restless.
Dumbledore was at a disadvantage in that he had never studied the long-lost discipline of mana flow. However, having once observed divine remains and comprehended a domain, he could still instinctively sense the fluctuations of magic in the environment around him.
Closing his eyes, he carefully attuned himself to the changes in the air, then suddenly snapped them open.
He had detected a sinister aura—it was Dementors, a group of them, moving toward the pitch!
Dumbledore immediately stood, looking toward the direction of their arrival, his right hand closing around the wand handle hidden beneath his robes.
At this moment, his expression was dark and terrifying.
The Dementors had no idea they had already been spotted from beyond visual range. They continued advancing toward the source of that alluring "scent."
Suddenly, the raindrops from the sky turned into round hailstones, and from deep beneath the ground under their feet came a strange, drawn-out sound—like an echo from ancient times.
Though the Dementors didn't know what was happening, instinct told them to get away from this place. But it was already too late.
The moment the hailstones touched their bodies, they transformed into sharp icicles, pinning them in place.
The next second, the ground for several hundred meters around suddenly heaved upward, as though someone were scooping out a piece of melon flesh from a sliced watermelon.
In the very next moment, the ground surged like ocean waves, swallowing up the hundreds of Dementors in their entirety.
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