The next moment, a staff appeared in my hand, and the air around it began to tremble as well, and the soft glow of the sun seemed to instantly warm these creepy dungeons. The melodious sound of the rings echoed off the stone surfaces many times, and if the people were indifferent to the sound, the old woman was literally twisted with rage.
— Kaminohikari! — Golden sparks scattered where the staff had struck the stone, and a wave of light spread out.
Soft, warm, caressing light that could warm any heart... almost any heart. The old woman screamed wildly, gathering unimaginable amounts of magic that she had barely structured, creating a cocoon of foul, dark smoke around her. She was trying to ward off the "Divine Light", a familiar spell of every priest or omyouji, used to detect and destroy or significantly weaken various dark entities, mostly undead.
Despite her best efforts, the "Light" destroyed the veil of aggressive, evil, and nasty magic faster than the old woman could assemble her cocoon, and eventually caught up with her. The old lich was literally sealed into the stone wall, scorching the wizards standing behind her with grace. The men's skin was badly burned on the exposed parts of their bodies, so none of them even thought to help the old undead, they were busy with themselves, hissing and cursing.
But the old woman was not so simple, the "light" had weakened her, yes, it had caused serious damage, but it had not destroyed her completely. She wasted no time in getting to her feet and activating a few artifacts, the amulets burned out by the Light. Around the small figure, emanations of black magic literally swirled, and I felt a flash of strong negative emotions, with fear and pain dominating.
Lich was shrouded in a black cloud, so the residual glow of the staff had no effect on her. She rose slowly and heavily, the cloaking spell no longer hiding her missing nose, the hideous shade of dead skin, the missing fragments of flesh and hair on her head, revealing a yellow skull in places. Long, dry fingers revealed curved dark claws and many thin spikes at the joints. It was unlike anything I'd ever seen before. I'd like to keep it that way.
— Priest! — spat out a creature that continues to poison the world with its presence thanks only to evil magic.
— Seirennoraykiri!
The staff in my hand turned into an unruly, burrowing snake trying to escape, golden lightning danced across my arm, sparks scattering, low rumbling and crackling without harming me. A short swing and a powerful projectile came from the staff: the lightning spear collided with the black cocoon of the old undead, causing a blinding flash and a deafening roar of thunder.
When I opened my eyes, I saw that the cocoon created by the "evil" artifact, the accumulator of negative energy from torture, was gone, and the undead had been incinerated. A twisted grimace of malice and hatred hissed menacingly, baring its needle teeth. A crooked, jagged dagger appears in the creepy old woman's hand, which, when exposed, begins to gather an ominous aura of brown and red flashes.
— Izanagikotoba: Yumiosageru! — The dagger began to crack as it stared at the undead.
The dagger began to crack, to shatter, and then it shattered and turned to dust as the old woman kneeled down, howling horribly, and the streams of magic around her began to dissipate. She grinned and howled and hissed, but it was no use — how could she, a lich of not the highest level, fight the word of one of the two senior gods of the Japanese pantheon?
No, if I had my own gods here in Britain, alive and strong, I probably wouldn't have been able to use this spell at all, but as it was, the undead bowed as the word of the Father God Izanagi demanded.
Yaxley and Foley, seeing that they were in no danger at all, raised their wands, but my shikigami swooped down from above and caught them in a tight embrace. The others met the same fate. Wasting no time while the spell was still in effect, I returned the staff to the bracelet.
The Whip of Seventy Sins, a trophy weapon against evil and wickedness that looks like a monk's rosary beads, unraveled from my hand and obeyed the command. Golden hieroglyphics blaze on the red beads, as if anticipating the fun to come.
One stroke, and the whip stretched sharply, reaching the undead, braiding them in several rings of secure and very painful captivity. Smoke rose above the beads, and the old woman let out another shrill scream, now literally deafening. Everyone but her and me fainted.
Staggering from the wasted energy, as well as the mandatory fee for using such high-level spells, I slowly walked over to Lich and began covering her with suppressive, restraining, restraining, and so on. I had to spend a lot of time until I was sure that the old woman wouldn't be able to free herself.
I waved my hand without turning around, because I couldn't speak now, my throat was badly damaged, and even the elixirs wouldn't do it right away. After a few moments of silence, a group of strong magos materialized behind me, literally burning with power and emotion. A hand rested on my shoulder.
— I'm proud of you, son. — In the voice of Junko, who together with the Chinese had been ready to help all this time, I heard much more than just four words, and I had managed to block out my emotions.
I turned and looked first at the proud mother and then at the Chinese, who looked at me with the same pride, but also with real respect. I nodded at them, then pointed to my throat and spat out a lump of blood.
— What's wrong with you? — The woman frowned and looked at my face.
How am I supposed to tell her what's wrong with me if I can't talk? I don't know any gestures, but every clan worth its salt has its own set of gestures, as well as an impressive list of cipher codes for writing. He spat again, pointed to his mouth and shook his head, then unsealed a chest like the one Schizo-Eye was sitting in. The bronze plates clinked on the stone floor.
With a simple gesture, I pointed to the immobilized bodies and then to the chest. The Chinese did the right thing and immediately began to pack up my prisoners, but not all of them; no one touched the second group, the ones with the suppression seals.
Substitutes and mercenaries will make excellent replacements for the main characters. When the chest is back in the bracelet, I make a negative gesture — a diagonal swing of the folded hand with the index and middle fingers exposed, and the Earth Spirit releases the doors and then disappears.
With a weak push spell, I swung the doors open and walked through to where Hermione, shocked and frightened, now stood, along with several other souls. With a simple gesture of my wand, the door swung open and three silver orbs flew in, casting a soft light on the filthy room full of women, girls and young women of all ages.
They huddled against the walls, trying to cover the children. Hermione and another girl, who was being hugged by another girl, were covered by a thin woman in rags who was watching my every move with fear and determination. I was followed inside by Junko and a strange Chinese woman who looked a lot like Bellatrix from the movie.
Hermione didn't even look at the entrance, hugging the little girl tightly, hiding her face and lowering her eyes herself. I didn't have to remove my empathy lock to sense the background of fear and desperation here. Another sweep of the brush, and a silvery, glowing cloud spilled from the ring, transforming a second later into a large, silvery tiger with blue eyes and small blue sparks around it.
The beast stepped smoothly onto the stone and moved toward the girl, literally burning away all the negativity present, tearing away the shackles of lingering fear and incoming madness. As he approached the girl, the tiger nudged her gently on the shoulder, and the Gryffindor looked up at him with a look that was a thick mixture of disbelief and hope.
Gently, as if afraid to dispel the illusion, she touched the palm of her hand to the beast's snout, which stared back at her with its mystical glowing eyes, holding the attention of all the prisoners by its very existence. After stroking the pseudo-material fur, the girl turned her tear-stained face to me.
I didn't smile, there was simply no reason to be happy about the changes that had happened to the Found One. I'm not talking about the physical body, I'm talking about her energy. Not that it was all bad, but there was no reason to be happy.