Under the relentless pursuit and blockade of the Aurors, the black fog rushed into the City Hall subway station like a cornered beast.
The silver dragon followed closely behind, and the two opposing forces began their deadly battle in the underground station.
It's truly unbelievable. Are all members of the Dumbledore family so naturally gifted? Aiden complained mentally while dodging another surge of dark energy.
You Prewetts aren't exactly lacking in talent either, the system retorted with dry amusement.
The silver dragon reformed, and Aiden unleashed Mental Breath mixed with concentrated magical power.
The breath, tinted with silvery-white light, dispersed the black fog with supernatural force. The dual pain of spirit and mind finally caused Credence to collapse unconscious.
With a spatial flicker, Newt arrived at the chaotic scene.
"Phew, let me tell you, I really haven't had such an exhilarating fight in ages," Aiden joked, though sweat beaded on his brow.
"What should we do now?" Newt asked, his expression grave with concern.
"Separation." After hesitating, Aiden still wanted to try changing Credence's tragic fate.
"He might die from the process," Newt warned, looking at Aiden with worry.
"Without separation, he's definitely doomed," Aiden shook his head firmly.
"Alright, I'll perform the separation. You assist me," Newt said, drawing his wand with steady hands.
Aiden grasped the empty air, and his staff materialized with practiced ease.
The tip of the staff touched the ground, and flames began carving intricate runes on the concrete floor automatically.
"Outsider who does not belong to this world, great ruler of the sea of consciousness, gray-white dragon who controls the mind, please cast your gaze down and build me walls of spirituality."
After Aiden finished reciting the ancient prayer, he felt his magical power being drawn away, and it seemed like ethereal material from the collective unconscious sea flowed out to combine with his magic, constructing protective barriers around them.
"What is that?" Newt asked while working, his voice strained with concentration.
"My prayer. You can call upon it if needed in the future," Aiden said, his mouth curving into a mischievous smile.
"I'll respectfully pass on that," Newt declined politely.
As the light at the tip of Newt's wand intensified, white threads extended from the magical focus like delicate spider silk.
They slowly penetrated Credence's unconscious body, and as the white threads continued to expand across his form, some black particles gradually attached to the magical threads and were slowly pulled out by Newt's careful extraction.
The most dangerous first step was completed, and both Newt and Aiden breathed sighs of relief.
But suddenly, Aiden's magical senses sent him an urgent warning.
Looking in the direction of the disturbance, Aiden's enhanced perception penetrated the collective unconscious sea, and a huge Othala (ᛟ) rune flickered within Credence's consciousness like a cosmic beacon.
However, the left side of the rune emitted pure silver light, while the right side had been dyed pitch black with accumulated malice.
"My god, those madmen of the Dumbledore family!" Aiden immediately understood the terrible truth.
As masters of ancient runic script, the Dumbledore family's skilled use of Othala (ᛟ) allowed them to easily continue their phoenix bloodline through generations.
But how could the use of such power come without a price? As family members who gave Othala (ᛟ) its meaning of continuity and inheritance, while gaining the family's mystical power through the rune, they also inherited hatred accumulated from the distant past.
Hatred, humanity's most primitive and intense emotion, had accumulated through the rune generation after generation, finally erupting in concentrated form on Credence three generations later.
The result was devastating. "Damn it, these people are natural vessels for the Deep Realm King's descent."
Aiden could no longer care about maintaining his usual elegant language.
"Newt, run!" Aiden rushed forward, grabbed Newt, dissolved the spiritual walls and began sprinting toward the exit.
Just as Aiden was desperately racing outward, 'Graves' and Picquery arrived with a squadron of MACUSA Aurors.
These Aurors really have terrible timing, the system observed dryly.
"Prewett, it's you again. End this madness," Picquery ordered, and the Aurors raised their wands, pointing them directly at Aiden.
"Run, run quickly! You don't understand what's happening!" Aiden shouted desperately.
But no one paid attention to his warning, and the methodical Aurors even sealed off the surroundings with a protective barrier, trapping everyone inside.
"Oh boy, welcome to hell," Aiden said, standing before the silver barrier and shaking his head in resignation.
On Credence's side, the Othala (ᛟ) rune had been completely consumed by black radiance.
From the Deep Realm Fourth Layer, the Throne of Hatred, the rotting giant sitting on the cosmic throne stretched his massive hand toward the mortal sky.
The power of the Deep Realm King descended into reality through the boundary between the illusory and real, and simultaneously, six Silent Slabs in six locations around the world began to resonate with otherworldly energy.
The black fog exploded outward with tremendous force. The surrounding environment was twisted beyond recognition, and black gel continuously flowed from Credence's convulsing body.
Finally condensing around him, a miniaturized version of the rotting giant materialized before the horrified witnesses.
The oppressive feeling from a high-level being spread outward like a psychic tsunami, and the weaker Aurors directly collapsed to their knees.
"What in Merlin's name is this?" Newt asked, his voice barely a whisper.
"Deep Realm King called Hatred, our wizards' greatest enemy for thousands of years. According to the World Wizarding Alliance Treaty, I now conscript all of you!" Aiden announced, turning back to look at MACUSA's terrified Aurors.
"By what right do you..." someone began to object, but ancient memories surfaced in their heart, and they trembled into silence.
Aiden waved his wand, and all his virtual personalities flew out, taking control of over a dozen Aurors with supernatural efficiency.
"Listen carefully, I need you to buy me time at any cost, or all of New York will be destroyed," Aiden declared, having already transformed into his dragon-man form, his staff pointing at the ground.
The other Aurors he controlled also stepped forward and began carving complex runes on the concrete floor.
Picquery finally understood the critical urgency of the situation and stepped forward to lead the attack. "You heard him, gentlemen. Buy them the time they need."
The rotting giant noticed the wizards around him and began acting on pure destructive instinct.
With each step forward, the distortion of the surrounding environment deepened exponentially. The wizards continuously fired spell after spell at the entity with their wands.
But the magical attacks disappeared before touching the giant's corrupted body, and among the dense barrage of spells, those that did manage to contact the creature would rebound and injure their own casters.
"What kind of monster is this really? How are we supposed to deal with something like that?" Picquery stared at the giant and murmured in despair.
"To the beings on earth, this is essentially a god. Where divine might reaches, all beings submit. Where divine will extends, reality itself is modified," Aiden explained grimly from behind.
Then Aiden raised his staff high. The runes carved into the weapon lit up with ethereal fire. Forged from goblin metal and engraved with Perthro (ᛈ) runes as a mystical pathway, it was able to connect to the collective unconscious sea like an otherworldly antenna.
From six locations across the globe—Eastern lands, Britain, Egypt, India, deep South America, and Jerusalem—six Silent Slabs simultaneously projected their accumulated power to this single point.
Using the alchemical matrix on the ground as an anchor point, combined with the psychic storm Aiden stirred up in the collective unconscious sea, the passage was finally opened.
The entire New York City Hall subway station was pulled into dimensional flux, sinking toward the Deep Realm and falling all the way into the Misty Illusion between worlds.
"Success!" Aiden clenched his fist in triumph.
"What succeeded? Isn't this thing still not dead?" Picquery asked in complete confusion.
"Being able to banish it from the present world is already an incredible achievement. What's left is just dragging out the fight until reinforcements arrive," Aiden said, waving his hand dismissively.
Picquery, Newt, and the remaining Aurors stared at him in stunned silence.