Arlen Black bled blue today, the runes of Ancient Magical Script taking a blue, ghostly form in his surroundings.
His eyes were glowing blue.
His breath was misting blue.
His black hair donned blue at the ends.
No gloves. No shoes. No external object seemed to be carved with those mystical runes.
Yet, power seemed to be in his grasp at a mere thought.
And Black thought; commanded; willed.
With a thundering rhythm, dozens of tiny, incomprehensible runes boiled around before landing on the back of his hands, elbows, shoulders, chest, back, thighs, knees, and feet.
This was just the beginning, though.
Black's Hogwarts robe rippled without wind and hundreds of runes fell on it, painting it in a glowing, blue color.
It was as if Black was wearing robes of blue flames.
Every flicker of these blue flames, like tongues of fire, were strings of tiny runes.
That's why Unsynchronizations were so important for Kai and Black.
With the Ad Infinitum and Lucky Intuitions, Kai couldn't actively let his emotions guide him like the times before gaining these ridiculous abilities.
It was especially so after gaining Calm in the 3rd stage of the Tournament of Worth.
Emotions weren't futile.
They were the driving force behind the Powers.
The Nature — The Force — The Myriad Concepts of Perceptions. All interacted with emotions.
For Kai and Black to go beyond, at least on the path of vast concepts like Ancient Magical Script, Ad Infinitum, Luck, etc., he needed to be detached from his constant-calculating side.
Total Unsynchronization worked the best, of course, but it could go very wrong, as already proved.
Active Unsynchronization, though a touch inferior, also did a fine job…
Boooommmmmmm!!!
An ancient aura erupted from Black, shaking the very space.
All the students surrounding him had gone silent as if a Basilisk had petrified them. Not only students, but the Professors had gone mute as well.
Madam Villanelle looked at Black slack-jawed, distant memories rushing in her mind. "Im… possible…" she stuttered, stepping back.
Umbridge didn't even know what was going on.
Like a muggle, she stood there with a stick in her hand, her mind empty.
Only Professor Dumbledore had a smile on his face as if he had finally accomplished something today. "… and now it begins…"
That was it — the true beginning.
The Headmaster had only whispered those words.
Yet, both Black and Darcie heard them, smiling.
With a massive bang, Black fired himself toward the Princess of the Diagon Alley, leaving behind a trail of blue, runic flames.
Then, to the audience's utter surprise, Darcie threw her wand up and launched herself towards the flashy idiot.
Black spun, flames dancing around his feet.
Renewal Taekwondo —
The flaming feet traced a wide arc, aiming for Darcie's head.
Suddenly, a crunch reverberated as she clenched her jaws, the capsules hidden in her mouth oozing drips of potions.
Brazilian Warlock —
Darcie fell forward, putting her hand on the dueling platform, and spun, her entire body glowing strangely red and blue.
— Reverse Sweeping Kick!!
— Magical Combat Technique!!
Booom!!!
…
A red and blue shockwave pushed the nearest students back.
Darcie and Black skidded across the platforms, spun midair, and landed on the platforms' edges.
"That was…" Black said, his breath misting blue.
Suddenly, he paused.
Darcie was standing far from him, wearing a white shirt over black pants and black shoes. And there was a smile on her face.
She outstretched her hand and her wand fell in her palm.
"Shit!" Black cursed, looking up.
Darcie's robe and tie were midair.
Green lightning thundered around Darcie. "Draconifors!"
Both the robe and the tie folded unto themselves midair and transfigured into small table-sized dragons —
— Dragons that instantly triggered traumas in many students at the mere sight of them.
ROARRRRRRRRRRR!!!
The two, tiny Hebridean Blacks roared, plumes of ash billowing out of their mouths.
With one flap of their bat-like wings, they threw themselves at Black, opening their maw-like jaws.
Under them, on the dueling platform, Darcie once again bolted forward, her poisonous green eyes narrowing at Black.
Black felt overwhelmed.
From the sides, Harry, Ron, and Draco were also undergoing tumultuous emotions.
However, unlike others, they knew the reason behind Black's transformation.
In their mind, Arlen Black was a Hallow of the Cult of Scion of Death as well. And, just before losing, he had activated his Spell — Magical Script.
So, when they saw Black losing his grasp over it, they knew what to do.
Dumbledore had told them what to do before it all began.
"Black!" Harry shouted.
"Come on!" Ron croaked.
"… Don't panic, you idiot!!!" Draco cursed.
Then, one by one, all Gryffindors erupted with cheers, forgetting what absurd magical phenomenon they were looking at.
"GO! GET HER BLACK!!!"
On the dueling platform, the two dragons roared out with pillars of purple fire.
Black took a deep breath, calming down. He raised his hands and, using the tips of his fingers, traced two circles midair.
Wherever his finger passed, runes came rushing in, giving it shape.
Two blue rings of fire sprang, their insides becoming black from the front.
Suddenly, all the two pillars of fire coming at Black left their paths and got sucked in by the two circles.
As the students gasped at the sight, momentum carried the two dragons through the gap between the two circles, both roaring.
Black pulled back his hand, twisted his fist, and punched.
Renewal Taekwondo —
Runes coated Black's fist in blue, and the punch landed on the two dragons' faces.
With a whirling twist, both dragons got ripped apart on the spot.
— Screw Punch!
The pieces of dragons instantly transfigured back into torn robe and tie.
Through the falling pieces of cloth, Black eyed Darcie's blurry figure.
His punch was still going forward, gaining speed and power.
Darcie pulled out her wand like a rapier.
"You really think that…" Black left it unsaid, a horrifying feeling banging in his mind.
Before he could pull the punch back, though, Darcie used the tip of her wand and… ever-so gently tipped his fist up.
Black lost all his balance.
Still, hundreds of runes glowed on his feet and he planted them on the dueling platform like pillars of iron.
Darcie wasn't finished.
Just as elegantly she had tipped the wand up, she tipped it down with the barest turn of her wrist.
"Spongify!"
The dueling platform suddenly rippled, becoming bouncy.
The iron-like footing Black had donned using Ancient Magical Script became useless.
Then, like a bullet getting fired from the ground, Darcie's free-hand's fist arrived… and landed right on Black's solar plexus.
Booommmmmmmm!!!
A flaming explosion shot out of Black's back, rings of blue flames rippling concentrically.
His feet left the platform and, because of its bounciness, sent him flying back even more than Darcie's punch could have.
But that was the last of Black's worry.
He couldn't see. He couldn't hear. It was like a sword was running through his stomach.
"You…" Darcie hissed, rolling her neck, "… are a nuisance… Carpe Retractum!"
A magical cord of light left the tip of her wand and coiled around Black's waist.
With a jerk, she pulled him down towards herself, her left fist going white, letting reddish, magical steam.
Then she punched again, her knuckles landing right on the same spot.
Crackkkkkkkkkk!!!
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AN: Character Image of Black with Ancient Magical Script is available
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