To concentrate her attack's power, Lys completely abandoned the defense controlled by her left hand, shoving the willow wand back into her belt.
She didn't care at all that her left sleeve was blasted apart by a curse she couldn't fully dodge.
It didn't matter anymore. If the Dark Lord didn't die, she'd be hunted anyway. Whether the Dark Mark showed or not was irrelevant!!
She was shouting for the Dark Lord's death in front of everyone!
What else could matter?!
She only stared intently at her Lacero attacking the Dark Lord. The black Fiendfyre serpent, fed by massive magical power, slowly revealed a stubborn silver color, spreading upward from its tail in scattered points.
A strange magical fluctuation trembled through nearby people, drawing their unconscious gaze to that seemingly insignificant Fiendfyre serpent.
Under everyone's eyes, silver light tore through the Dark Lord's defenses like lightning, piercing his black sleeve.
The dark cloud shrouding Lys's heart was burned away at one corner by silver flame.
Cries and shouts came from the chaotic battlefield, but Lys couldn't hear what they were saying.
She only stared at that black figure, desperately controlling her magic to return at maximum speed.
Before Lys's Lacero could fully return, the Dark Lord's charged curse came at her. Lys didn't even hesitate—left arm crossed before her body to protect Gabon and herself, her right wand tip flicked up, sending Lacero toward the Dark Lord's heart.
She abandoned defense.
Single-mindedly wanting her magic to taste the Dark Lord's flesh and blood.
But it was too late... When Lys's strike missed, the Dark Lord's defenses were already reestablished!
Instead, Lys's left hand blocking in front was struck by the curse, quickly wreathed in black mist and losing all sensation.
Lys's magic was disrupted.
Lacero lost its previous power.
But Lys's attacks never stopped, because she couldn't stop. The Dark Lord's magic was more refined and more powerful than hers.
Even though Lys had drunk Snape's potion in advance, she still had a considerable gap of decades of accumulated experience compared to the Dark Lord.
Under the Dark Lord's relentless pressure, Lys couldn't gather enough magic in time. She knew her foolish fantasy was becoming hopeless.
"I admire you more and more, but I no longer intend to forgive you. I will grant you death—you and your family. Take your touching affection and yearning for freedom to reunite with Merlin!"
Black sparks at the Dark Lord's robe edges stubbornly refused to die out, which annoyed him.
Those wizards showing obvious growth potential should be recruited, but those intent on resisting him should be crushed.
He wouldn't leave these people who dared defy him!
The Dark Lord's curse rose. Lys barely managed to block part of it.
The severed magic in her left hand exposed fatal weaknesses in Lys's already inferior strength during combat.
Having lost her magical advantage, Lys—defending and attacking simultaneously—quickly made mistakes.
She continuously shattered incoming curses, only to be affected by the scattered waves, momentarily unable to attack at all.
The Dark Lord drove Lys back step by step like toying with a mouse, demonstrating his invincibility to those whose hearts had risen with hope.
Complete despair made Lys lose control.
This made her abandon restraint. She extended her left hand wreathed in black mist toward the Dark Lord's back, wanting to gamble one last time.
"Tom! Look, your Death Eaters are failing one by one! Dying! And so will you!"
She again controlled the Fiendfyre serpent with its silver tail flame to race toward the Dark Lord, while she herself flew toward him under Flying Arrow.
Lys didn't only have the Fiendfyre-composed Lacero as her powerful spell. If it were really possible, she wouldn't want to get too close to the Dark Lord.
But she only had two magics capable of dealing decisive damage to the Dark Lord...
That magic that could bring Noah back from the Liminal Realm.
That magic she'd carved into her own flesh and blood, studied for ten years yet still shrouded in mystery.
Its distance requirements for taking effect were rather demanding.
Blackthorn wand pointed at her left arm, Lys opened those two magical patterns copied in the execution chamber, carved into her own flesh and blood.
Arm rotating with these two patterns, Lys charged forward fiercely.
The magic that had once silenced that Horcrux diary's final breath—Lys reached toward the last mark the Dark Lord's fractured soul had left in the world.
Enraged by Lys's form of address, the Dark Lord's curse struck at Lys again, and now the distance between them was very close.
However, the Dark Lord truly deserved his reputation as one who had once conquered many wizards through knowledge.
He sensed something. Even transforming his body into black mist to withstand that silver-spotted Fiendfyre serpent's burning, he chose to avoid Lys's left hand.
But then Gabon, who had been clinging tightly to Lys's shoulder pretending absence, suddenly raised her head. Her collar and the crystal vial storing magic on it instantly burst, shattering scales around half her neck.
In that instant, Gabon's petrification even caused the Dark Lord a moment's pause.
This let Lys seize that sliver of opportunity to touch the Dark Lord!
But quickly, the patch of black mist Lys had touched was severed by the Dark Lord. Lys's opened magical patterns hadn't managed to take away enough of what she wanted.
Lys passed straight through the Dark Lord's black mist form.
The Dark Lord, reforming from black mist, felt his disrupted magic and the injuries hidden beneath his robes. Enraged, he struck out—massive chaotic magical power attacking Lys, who couldn't turn around due to her excessive speed and momentum.
Having given her all and left with no reserves, Lys was blasted far away by the magic's tremendous force.
Lys tried to summon Flying Arrow, but was instead thrown further by her own out-of-control, damaged magic.
She felt several protective spells of varying skill levels fall upon her.
Clutching her ribs as she landed on a soft 'wall,' Lys heard a tremendous clang.
A sphinx had caught her, preventing her from crashing into rubble and worsening her injuries.
The armor that always repeated it was goblin-made leaped up with sword raised, blocking another of the Dark Lord's following spells for her, its breastplate dented deeply.
Those protective spells had been cast by people fighting around her and the Dark Lord.
Though Lys and the Dark Lord's battle seemed long, it had actually only lasted a few breaths after Lys mentioned Bellatrix's death before she was struck down.
After the Dark Lord struck down Lys and sent one pursuing curse, he looked back. When he realized what Lys had pointed out, he quickly flew into rage.
Bellatrix had been killed by a witch...
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