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The floating "fortress of firepower" had nothing to do with being bulky, nor was it covered in an array of cannons, large and small. Lucian's Animagus transformation had merely clad him in full-body battle armor. The pistol he once held had elongated into a rifle—perhaps a designated marksman rifle?
But what truly made him a walking arsenal were the floating turrets suspended at his back and flanks. Linked to his body by invisible threads of magic, they flickered with the glow of seven distinct elements.
Lucian had mastered at least seven elemental affinities. Even the ice Harry had just wielded was among his proficiencies. No wonder he hadn't suffered frostbite—he had even used an ice sculpture as a decoy to escape unscathed from Harry's initial attack.
"This is starting to get interesting."
Harry was immensely grateful for joining this dueling tournament. Had it not been for this, he might have remained oblivious to the monumental changes sweeping the magical world. In England, where the MagiNet didn't even exist, how long would it have taken him to learn that the world outside had evolved so drastically? This new magical landscape fascinated him beyond measure—countless marvels that once seemed unimaginable were now tangible realities before his eyes.
"This... this is the kind of magical world worth devoting my life to—"
A searing energy beam grazed Harry's cheek, cutting off his excited murmur. It was the signal that the real battle was about to begin.
Until now, Harry had always been the one suppressing his opponents with relentless spell barrages. But now, for the first time, he was experiencing the panic of being on the receiving end of a bullet storm.
The "bullets" launched through elemental manipulation lacked the intricate, unpredictable effects of spells, but each carried passive elemental properties based on its nature.
The crimson fire-element bullets could ignite or explode on impact. White metal-element rounds pierced magic defenses with enhanced penetration and razor-sharp edges. Even the seemingly harmless water bullets had intense corrosive properties. While a single elemental bullet couldn't compare to a full-fledged spell in power, these rounds had no cooldown—so long as one had enough magic, they could be fired without end!
And amidst this downpour of firepower, some insidious attacks carried far more sinister effects. Magic and technique were two sides of the same coin—on their own, raw magic had limited effects, but when fused with spellcraft, it could be imbued with eerie, formidable abilities.
A bullet that had narrowly missed Harry detonated behind him, unleashing an immense gravitational pull that dragged him toward the center of the explosion. The scattered barrage of bullets instantly converged into a focused beam of light!
Barriers, bindings, immobilization, petrification—multiple spell effects erupted simultaneously. The anti-Apparition field expanded, sealing off all escape routes. The swirling, multicolored energy stream did not immediately blast Harry apart. Having witnessed Harry's use of black aura energy, Lucian had already classified him as a body-refining warrior. Though the barrage appeared overwhelming, it wouldn't necessarily work well against someone who could layer their body with armor-like defenses and withstand even the deadliest attacks.
In the blink of an eye, the swirling beams of light vanished into a single pitch-black vortex. The compressed mass of absorbed elemental energy swelled to the size of a fist before collapsing into a pinpoint—no larger than a green bean. The next instant, the violently compressed magic erupted in an explosion of raw, chaotic energy, capable of shredding anything caught within its grasp.
Flesh, steel—it didn't matter. Even the thick glacial armor of a Frost Tyrant wouldn't withstand more than a few seconds against this maelstrom of destruction.
This was an attack that could drain the magic reserves of an entire adult wizard in an instant. But Lucian, ten years Harry's senior, had cultivated an immense reservoir of magical energy—several times, if not tenfold, greater than the average wizard's. Wealth was power. Though not many people could afford to drink top-grade magical elixirs brewed by master alchemists every day, such individuals did exist.
All eyes locked onto the vortex's core, awaiting the inevitable burst of crimson—the telltale glow of a duelist's defeat.
But they were left disappointed.
There was no red light.
Instead, a shadow even darker than the swirling black void emerged, standing motionless amidst the chaos.
The jet-black aura had formed into armor—one of the most basic applications of aura manipulation. And when facing a storm of magical energy, the most effective defense was to construct a shell—a cocoon of pure magic to counteract the destructive turbulence within.
In this clash of raw magical force, the superior quality of Awakened Magic had withstood the brutal energy storm.
Harry's breathing grew heavier. His temporarily drained reserves refilled within seconds. His accelerating heartbeat further fueled the circulation of magic in his body. The Awakened Magic leaking from him gathered into an iron-gray mist, coiling around him like storm clouds.
It was as if he had stepped out from the abyss itself—shrouded in the black fog of death, striding forth from the gates of the underworld into this radiant world.
"Now…"
A sharp clicking sound echoed—the sound of joints locking into place.
"…It's my turn."
Once again, ebony and ivory were gripped tightly.
And as the fortress of firepower unleashed another magnificent storm of glowing bullets—
"The Same Move Won't Work Twice!"
The ivory gun's trigger was pulled. At that moment, waves of resonating energy rippled through the battlefield—
"End of All Spells!"
The spell-shattering waves tore through the air like relentless tides. The structure of spells bore a striking resemblance to the 'magic' within techniques and sorcery, and those hidden traps embedded in the energy bullets were instantly obliterated. While elemental bullets formed purely through energy manipulation were not particularly susceptible to End of All Spells, they were nevertheless thrown into a hostile environment where their stability was severely compromised.
Originally capable of traveling hundreds of meters, the bullets shattered prematurely within just a dozen meters of leaving the barrel. Even the magical threads linking Lucian's floating turrets began flickering unsteadily.
"There may not be a bullet storm anymore… but now, the real shooting game begins."
Harry raised the ebony gun, smiling as he squeezed the trigger.
"Get down!"
Lucian's magical shield offered no resistance against the spell fired from the ebony gun. The floating field that kept him aloft collided with a force of opposite nature—his body abruptly sank, plummeting toward the ground against his will.
"Tear Asunder!"
Harry had long been curious—could a spell forcibly strip away the armor in a second-stage Animagus transformation? This fusion of three separate entities—the wizard, the first-stage Animagus form, and the alchemical armor—was it truly a seamless whole? If it could be removed, would it be just the alchemical armor? Or would it be something akin to skinning?
Of course, there was nothing perverse about this line of thought. Harry was simply… scientifically curious.
However, his second spell was blocked by Lucian's layered magical barriers. The moment the first spell struck, Lucian immediately realized something was wrong—this spell didn't collide with his defenses; it ignored them entirely. A cold sweat broke out on his back.
Only now did he truly understand why Anna, who had previously fought Harry, had been instantly cleaved in two despite her armor. For someone like him—a frail spellcaster specializing in sorcery—an attack that bypassed defenses to strike directly at the body was utterly terrifying. Forget being bisected; even losing a single arm would render him nearly powerless in battle.
Unlike body-refining warriors, spellcasters weren't known for their resilience. Those who honed their physical bodies had far greater mental fortitude. One couldn't expect a mage to max out endurance or pain tolerance—they only needed their bodies to be functional enough to cast spells.
Lucian landed heavily, heart pounding from the ebony gun's devastating properties, but he did not panic. With a brief moment of analysis, he found a way to break free from this seemingly inescapable predicament.
No one among his peers had a deeper reservoir of magic than him.
The Lucian family was a titan in the Great Celestial Empire's magical livestock industry. They controlled 3% of the domestic market and 5% of the export market, slaughtering countless magical beasts daily for their highly potent meat. While farm-raised magical creatures had weaker magic cores than their wild counterparts, they more than made up for it with sheer quantity—an unlimited supply.
And potions? His second uncle was a seasoned Master Alchemist, specializing in healing potions and magical supplements. If Harry ever found out that Lucian drank high-grade mana-replenishing elixirs that actually tasted good, he would never have complained about Snape's potions tasting awful. Well… maybe just a little.
Thanks to this practically cost-free (well, almost cost-free) upbringing, Lucian had spent twenty years drinking premium mana boosters, resulting in a magic pool surpassing every peer in his generation. Only someone like him could sustain seven floating turrets simultaneously. Even if he had mastered ten or twenty elemental affinities, without this absurd mana reserve, unleashing such an overwhelming bullet storm would have been impossible.
Shield upon shield. Layer upon layer.
If magic shields collapsed under End of All Spells, then he would construct elemental shields instead. If one layer wasn't enough, he'd stack ten. If ten were too thin, he'd raise a hundred!
His colossal mana reserves—enough to make Harry green with envy—allowed him to recklessly burn through his energy. There was no way Harry's relentless 'anti-magic' barrage could outlast him. The moment Harry ran out of power, Lucian would turn the tides.
Both had already seen through each other's strategy. Neither spoke. They simply engaged in silent, relentless combat.
Minute by minute, second by second, the battle waged on.
Harry's grip on the ivory gun's trigger gradually loosened. The vast expenditure of magic was reaching the limits of what simple breathing could restore. While it only took him three to five seconds to refill his depleted mana reserves, this kind of prolonged battle…
"It's annoying as hell."
Harry let go of the ivory gun's trigger, sliding the "noob-slayer special" back into its holster at his waist.
"Well, at least I got a nice, sturdy target dummy to practice on—definitely worth it."
He took a deep breath. His nearly depleted mana pool surged back up.
Black aura coiled around his hands, solidifying into a suit of jet-black armor.
(End of Chapter)