A man, a dragon, and a phoenix roamed the castle's second floor, their target clear: the abandoned girls' bathroom.
During this time, Damon's magical powers expanded, exploring the entire second floor, ensuring that no one else was present except for the hidden Dumbledore.
Damon wasn't as careless as Dumbledore.
Within his capabilities, he didn't want to let carelessness lead to unnecessary accidents or casualties.
According to Harry's information, the giant snake had devoured Lockhart's professor. Seeing the opened entrance to the Chamber of Secrets, Damon formed a rough idea of what was going to happen—Professor Lockhart had opened the Chamber and been devoured by the basilisk?
Was he always so brave?
Damon reached the bronze faucet in the bathroom, but before he could say anything, the air rippled, and the Chamber of Secrets before him spontaneously opened.
It was Dumbledore.
He seemed curious about what Damon would do next, even impatient.
A cool, silvery breeze blew from the secret room
. As Damon entered, the subtle sound gradually intensified, as if forming a cavity, rumbling intensely and carrying the scent of impending storm.
Damon didn't go in directly—that was the course of a reckless man.
"Nobeta,"
he called softly. The fire dragon, having grown slightly larger since entering the bathroom, aimed its mouth at the entrance to the secret room.
Then, a full three minutes of blazing fire began to emanate.
Crimson flames, capable of melting gold and iron, continued to flow. Damon observed its power but was unsatisfied.
"It just feels...not powerful enough." Perhaps, in the future, he could develop a synergistic technique, amplifying the flames with his own magic?
However, his current understanding of fire wasn't sufficient. It was time to research the eternal Kepler fairy fire sometime—after this was over, Old Dumbledore would give him a gold coin.
After three minutes, the spitting ceased. Nobeta snorted, the last spark fading away. But the wind from the Chamber of Secrets remained chilly, only the temperature had risen slightly.
Clearly, using the 'cannonballing' effect against Voldemort required more than the breath of a single dragon. "You won't even come out. What has the old man set up in there?"
The chilling wind blew fiercely, carrying with it a disdainful, sinister laugh. Undoubtedly, the person within was both provoking and inviting him.
Damon raised an eyebrow and flicked his wand. Norberta instantly shrank to the size of a fist, resting on his shoulder and acting as his eyes. Damon stared down the tunnel before finally flying down.
Whoever was inside, the incident had just happened. Prolonging it was a waste of time; it would only give the other party more time to prepare.
Besides, Dumbledore was right behind him. In the worst-case scenario, they were two against one, so there was nothing to worry about.
Damon's figure flew between the slides—actually flying, not using a levitation spell or something to hold him back.
In the wizarding world, only Voldemort mastered this spell, and among the Death Eaters, only Snape truly mastered it—Dumbledore was too embarrassed to ask Snape for instruction, but Damon was more than willing to do so.
After learning Occlumency, he traded ten photos of Lily for this spell—though at the time, he couldn't master it and was mocked by Snape.
However, after his talent for spells improved further, he mastered knocking in record time, and now he could truly fly.
Descending the slope, he reached the ground at a rapid speed and surveyed his surroundings. In
the dank lair, visibility was extremely low. In the darkness ahead, the sound of lips and teeth clacking could be heard continuously, as if, deep in the darkness, some humanoid creature was feeding.
Damon snapped his fingers, and a small sun appeared high in the sky, instantly illuminating a ten-meter radius as bright as day.
He continued to fly forward, the light source shifting with his advance. The eater within seemed to sense its approach, the sounds of eating paused for a moment, then intensified in a frenzy!
For some reason, even though they were still a hundred meters away, the sounds of lips and teeth opening and closing, teeth grinding on bone, chewing and swallowing—these sickening, nauseating sounds—all seemed to echo in his ears, causing Daemon to frown.
Was this method, which had no effect other than disgusting, attempting to amplify the fear and discomfort in people's hearts?
Daemon snorted coldly and waved his wand.
The flowing magic power converged in front of him into a solid bolt of light. It wasn't in a hurry to release, but instead accumulated power. As Daemon advanced, the bolt's presence grew stronger and stronger, so strong that the voice within could no longer ignore it.
"Hmph! Impolite boy!"
The sounds of eating ceased, replaced by a dense hissing. Thousands of tiny venomous snakes emerged from the darkness and approached the light source, bounding towards Daemon without hesitation.
It wasn't dangerous, but it was effective enough—if Damon insisted on not firing the light bolt, he might have been struck by the dense source of mana, exploding if he wasn't careful.
"How could it be more rude than someone usurping their position?"
Damon tapped the ground with his wand.
"Da-da-da-da—"
The faint sound was drowned out by the hissing of the snakes, but within three moments, it grew to thunder. The sky trembled beneath the thunder, and countless tiny stones rained down. These stones deformed as they fell, transforming into a rain of needles that pierced every attacking snake.
Damon continued forward, carrying the light bolt. The snake carcasses and stone needles before him spontaneously dissipated, leaving no trace.
As he advanced, a strange figure appeared at the end of his sight—Professor Lockhart, but clearly not—his appearance had changed drastically.
The dazzling golden hair was gone, replaced by smooth slanted hair. Dressed in Professor Lockhart's favorite purple robe, a strange fusion of a snake head and a human body stood up from the ground - rat corpses piled around him, and there was still blood on his mouth that had not been wiped clean.
"Damon White."
The snake head opened its mouth, its narrowed eyes revealing a yellow murderous light, and its voice was hoarse like a demon from hell.
"Oh - what should I call you now? Professor Lockhart, the basilisk, or Voldemort?"
"Lockhart has given his life for me, Damon White, and this is all your fault."
The strange snake body twisted in the air, its eyes filled with hatred and mockery.
"If you hadn't aroused his jealousy, it would have been difficult for me to replace him - if it weren't for the hatred I have for you day and night, I wouldn't be able to do what I have now."
"Damon White, you are the culprit of all this."
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