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The information, including the structure and activation methods of the four wind-based spells, slowly emerged in Moriarty's mind—like memories drawn from an ancient tome of elemental lore.
The first: Cool Wind and Bone — a summoning spell.
The caster conjures a cold wind that sweeps toward the enemy. It lasts for exactly 10 seconds, during which the frigid gust corrodes the enemy's skeletal structure, gradually reducing their bones to fine powder—unless interrupted or countered by a high-level dispel or protection charm.
The spell ends when the bone erosion process is complete or disrupted.
The second: Wind Capture — a swift, forward-swirling spell that activates within two seconds.
The caster infuses the surrounding air with wind-element magic, allowing it to infiltrate the enemy's body through breath or pores. It captures a single spell at random from the enemy's active magical array.
At level 31 and above, high-ranking wizards can convert the captured spell into usable mana for themselves.
The third: Whirlwind Cutting — a non-verbal, gesture-based technique.
This spell requires no chant or hand seal. It is instantaneous and costs minimal mana, but its effect is devastating. The caster mimics a slashing motion with their wand, conjuring sharp-edged blades of wind.
These blades can be used offensively to slice or defensively to parry attacks. The size and quantity depend on the caster's magical level and mana input.
The fourth: The Wind Howls — a spell so potent it can alter the climate.
Regardless of time, terrain, or natural weather, when invoked, it summons a furious tempest to drive away malevolent forces. The gale is imbued with wild wind-element magic, roaring with destructive power that shreds anything it touches.
Note 1: This spell consumes an enormous amount of mana. A medium-grade mana recovery potion must be prepared beforehand.
Note 2: Upon reaching level 51, the caster unlocks Super Wind Howl, a vastly amplified version. Caution is advised, as its power is immense and potentially uncontrollable.
After digesting all the information, Moriarty smiled with satisfaction.
Though the list consisted of only four spells, their variations and implications made them feel like six. Even though he wasn't attuned to wind-element magic, which slowed his learning process, it did not hinder his confidence or resolve.
"Dracula?" Moriarty called out, his voice laced with cold disdain.
"Dumbledore and Diana have already fallen, and your game has failed. What more tricks do you have up your sleeve? What other foolish plays are you planning?"
His words echoed through the hall. Dracula hesitated.
Jericho and Lilith stepped beside Moriarty, smirking triumphantly. With Dumbledore defeated, even the infamous Dracula seemed vulnerable.
"Are you scheming again?" Moriarty asked sharply, his voice crisp as shattering ice.
"Trying to trick me into speaking Draconic and Elvish?
"You plotted and schemed… but you never imagined that I, Moriarty Slytherin—possibly the only wizard in this castle fluent in both Draconic and Elvish—would outplay you."
He paced slowly, casting a floating spell to move the two ice-sculpted professors aside. Then, with a controlled "Restore" incantation, he lifted the frost magic blanketing the hall.
"Wait… what?" Jericho gasped, pale with realization.
"You mean… the third level of Dracula's game was just to force you to learn Draconic and Elvish?"
"Dumbledore knows Draconic," Lilith muttered, the triumphant smile fading.
"And Diana is an Elven priestess… she would naturally know Elvish…"
"But why?" she asked, stunned. "Why would Dracula—one of the ancient vampire lords—help you learn two of the most powerful magical languages in existence?"
"Excellent question, Lilith," Moriarty responded with a slow grin.
"I'm guessing it has to do with Dracula's seal. Only the languages of the dragons and elves can unlock the layers of his imprisonment… isn't that right?"
Dracula said nothing.
"Enough theatrics. Show yourself, Dracula. Time's running out. Let's hear the truth from the legendary vampire king."
A heavy sigh rolled through the castle like wind through forgotten crypts.
Dracula's voice finally emerged—tired, yet impressed.
"So few mortals have ever made me feel both fear and admiration… not even Merlin. He was a thief. But you, Moriarty Slytherin—you are something else entirely."
"I'm not interested in your thanks," Moriarty said coldly, gripping his staff.
"As you guessed, Merlin bound my head using the Alchemy Matrix.
My body was sealed separately, likely with a spell unknown even to me. Think of it this way: the entire seal is a lock with three keys—alchemy matrix, Draconic, and Elvish. Only when all three keys are turned simultaneously can the seal be undone."
Dracula's tone grew mournful.
"Every year, I observed the new students. Last year, I manipulated Bill Weasley with the tale of the Headless Horseman. Foolishly, he ran to Dumbledore with the story… which was fine. Dumbledore can speak Draconic."
"But Dumbledore is too powerful for you to control," Moriarty interrupted with a smirk.
"So you switched targets. You spread viral magic from your head, passed news to vampire kin, and unleashed them upon the elves—which forced Diana into the open, bringing Elvish language with her."
"Exactly," Dracula chuckled.
"But what you don't realize is that once you entered Hogwarts, I immediately placed you on my watchlist. After a year of observation, I confirmed it: you, Moriarty, would become a catalyst. Your presence alone triggered emotional upheaval across the castle."
Moriarty's eyes narrowed.
Dracula continued, "That instability empowered the viral magic. It feeds on emotional chaos, dark thoughts, and resentment. I also realized you were a genius. So, I laid traps… and waited."
He sounded excited now—unhinged even.
"When Nicolas Flamel appeared, and you wagered against him, I knew the timing was perfect. I impersonated King Arthur's Headless Knight, used Merlin's name, and slipped you the knowledge of the Alchemy Matrix. One key unlocked!"
"But I still needed the Draconic key," he continued, voice rising.
"And I couldn't control Dumbledore—not at his prime. But then—you actually studied Draconic on your own!"
"You knew I'd take an interest after mentioning how it supported alchemy," Moriarty said coldly.
Dracula laughed, tinged with awe.
"And that terrified me!
Your potential is beyond anything I've seen. If Merlin taught you alchemy, you'd surpass him. You already grasped the alchemical matrix. You could be his professor."
Moriarty's tone stayed neutral.
"You call it the matrix because it sealed you, correct?"
"Exactly. I told lies to guide you—pretending to be the Headless Horseman. I didn't care if you believed it; it wasn't about deception, it was about trajectory."
"I released viral magic to study the students' mental states. After your duel with Flamel, I inflamed their pride."
He laughed again.
"Then you—Slytherin's heir—became their anchor. Students cursed professors and poisoned peers, believing you'd defend them. Some believed beauty alone gave them access to you. You became a symbol… an idol."
Dracula's voice swelled with intensity.
"If this continued, Moriarty, the entire school would become your cult. You'd become their god."
He continued in a near frenzy:
"I quelled Slytherin, so I infected Hufflepuff. Dozens of girls wanted to cook for you—snake soup, owl roast, lionhead stew. The other houses revolted, and you smoothed it over again."
"Then came the fourth wave. Emotions ran rampant. Gryffindor and Ravenclaw erupted in bloodshed. Dumbledore had no choice but to suspend classes."
"You don't understand viral magic," Dracula hissed.
"It evolves with every surge of darkness, every buried evil in the students' hearts. It feeds on resentment.
And now… now its strength is beyond anything Hogwarts has seen…"
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