With Wind's Grace still coursing through him, Harry danced with death. His greatsword cleaved the air in wide arcs, each swing fluid, fast, and filled with purpose. The green aura surrounding him flickered with every movement, amplifying his strength, sharpening his reflexes.
CLANG!
SHHRRANG!
He brought the blade down from above, then swept sideways, then jabbed. But no matter how aggressive or precise his attacks were, the demon blocked each one with ease. Its four arms moved like blurs, intercepting every strike with a clack of chitin and a spark of steel.
Harry gritted his teeth, sweat flying off his brow.
"Why won't you fall…?!"
Suddenly, a wave of dense aura swept through the air.
From the side of the room, Snape's voice cut through the chaos.
"Shadow Blind!"
