Chapter 328

The Isle of Purbeck was collapsing.

Muggle tourists could only see the sky-filling thunderstorms from afar, but in areas they couldn't notice, hurricanes and thunder plowed trenches several meters deep into the earth, and raging flames surged and rolled, baking the earth into scorched soil.

In the crackling electric light, small crow antennas were constantly emitting death rays, and they would soon be scattered by the tornadoes formed by the sea water.

Stone walls shaped by spells and blown up by spells stood between the two sides of the battle, countless magic crossed in the air, flashes and electric sparks reflected each other, and the explosions were deafening.

It was clearly just a battle of four people, but it seemed to have erupted into a war.

The battle had started for more than ten minutes. The Shaman's magic limited the effect of ordinary spells in this environment, weakening Dumbledore and Grindelwald's power, but Dumbledore's fighting style didn't need much magic support. He would turn the ground into stone walls and stone shields with Transfiguration, and could also turn them into sharp swords and spears, and even turn them into whips that could entangle enemies and cages that could trap enemies.

Sea water was also ever-changing in his hands, which could be used to disperse crow antennas, block Murphy's advance, and shield Murphy's thunder and Grindelwald's Fiendfyre.

Compared to Dumbledore's defensive and auxiliary fighting style, Grindelwald was much more direct. Fiendfyre was played to perfection by him, forcing Murphy's crow antennas to turn into electric light and flee several times. At the same time, he seemed to always be able to foresee Murphy's attack direction at critical moments, thereby avoiding several life-and-death crises for himself and Dumbledore.

But even so, their magic consumption had already reached its limit. If it weren't for the tacit cooperation between the two, they would have probably died on the spot long ago.

Murphy was not having a good time either.

This configuration of his was originally prepared to kill Dumbledore two-on-one. Now with the addition of Grindelwald, the strength gap between the two sides was erased, but Grindelwald had just been released not long ago and was not in his prime. With the help of the Shamans' strange magic, he didn't have no chance of winning.

It's a pity that this Maxim was already the last Grand Shaman left in Arkaim—the other two were killed by Murphy.

And another powerhouse at this level in the Soviet Union—Lady Yaga—because she felt that Arkaim without the Wall of Saint Peter was no longer so safe, refused to leave the Empress's side no matter what. Otherwise, three against two, this battle would be much easier.

But even so, this was the best opportunity to kill Dumbledore at present.

The next instant, Murphy turned into a demon form, his whole body wreathed in lightning, black energy rising.

Exactly the same as the one seen by the believer controlled by the Holy Mother's statue.

And countless Lightning Crows flew out from behind him, constructing seven or eight small antenna arrays in the air. He would use these to modulate magic power, so as to get rid of Grand Shaman Maxim's magic blockade and increase his side's advantage.

After doing all this, he looked at Dumbledore.

"Professor, the scenery here is good. Stay."

And just at the moment when the Wall of Saint Peter unfolded on the white cliffs.

Underground in a certain place, in a dilapidated confessional, the priest wearing a crown of thorns rose from the high-backed chair.

He pushed open the door and came to a huge underground hall.

The hall was as wide as a football field and extended extremely far like a tunnel. In the center of the front part of the hall, a marble statue of the Holy Mother nearly five meters high was covered in dust. She lowered her eyebrows and drooped her eyes, with her hands spread out, overlooking the entire space like a loving mother.

On the ground, countless stone coffins were arranged neatly, with as many as a hundred.

The thorn priest knelt before the statue of the Holy Mother. "May the loving spirit guide the lost lambs, and let the holy knights be reborn through this."

Just as he finished speaking, another priest wearing a black robe walked over from the other end of the hall holding a censer. Rolling white smoke surged from the small censer in his hand, and behind him followed a hundred people walking shakily, like walking corpses, yet they were uniformly chanting scriptures.

The black-robed priest brought them to the stone coffins. Following that, the stone coffins vibrated one after another, and white bone arms stretched out from them. Those bone hands pushed open the coffin lids, and immediately, a black smoke diffused from the stone coffins, wrapping the people standing woodenly beside them, and suddenly pulling them into the coffins.

The next moment, countless screams rang out in the hall, and along with them were extremely terrifying roars and chewing sounds.

Blood seeped from the bottom of the stone coffins, and the hall was filled with a pungent fishy smell.

Before long, the sounds gradually disappeared, and the stone coffins opened again, and knights wearing pitch-black armor crawled out from them.

The thorn priest looked at all this excitedly. "The Mass of Resurrection has been completed. The great spirit, the holy knights have returned again, and will sweep away the oath-breakers for you, just like three hundred years ago."

After he finished speaking, he knelt before the statue of the Holy Mother again. "Please guide them in their direction."

The huge statue of the Holy Mother vibrated, and then her loving and peaceful voice filled the entire hall. "Arkaim. Kill the 'Prophet'!"

Arkaim, Spring Palace.

"What is the commandment after entering the mausoleum, Your Majesty?" Lady Yaga sat at the table, with several ancient books spread out in front of her.

"Do not see, do not speak, do not listen," the Empress said.

"How many steps are there from the opening of the Gate of Rebirth to the place of kneeling?"

"..." Sophia's gaze looked at a crow by the window.

It was walking proudly, and it seemed there was no problem.

Suddenly, the crow flapped its wings and flew to another tower tip.

Her gaze followed its direction and shifted to the horizon, where there was a cloud like a feather.

She frowned, looking at the cloud in a daze.

"Your Majesty!"

"What?" The Empress was startled.

"How many steps are there from the opening of the Gate of Rebirth to the place of kneeling?" Lady Yaga repeated.

"Uh... six steps? Or eight steps?" The Empress said uncertainly.

"It's seven steps, then take one step back," Lady Yaga said. "Your Majesty, you are distracted."

"This ancestor festival is the first grand festival since you succeeded to the throne. All the wizards in Arkaim will be watching you. No step can be wrong," Lady Yaga said in a deep voice. "You'd better engrave all the steps in your mind... especially the steps after entering the mausoleum. That place is both the most sacred place and extremely dangerous. Any mistake could lead to you being trapped there forever!"

"Sorry, Lady Yaga." The Empress still looked a bit absent-minded.

Lady Yaga stared at her, and after a long while, sighed. "Fine, we'll review it later. Until those little birds turn into lightning and disappear or turn into a man, you probably won't be able to listen to anything. Your Majesty?"

"Your Majesty?"

The Empress seemed not to have heard her words. She stared blankly at the horizon. "Lady Yaga, is there any bonfire party today?"

"What?" Lady Yaga didn't understand.

"Smoke," the Empress looked at the horizon, and she stood up abruptly, came to the window, and looked out. "It's on fire! There is a fire in the city... no, that direction is... the ancestor mausoleum, the Sacred Forest! The Sacred Forest is on fire!"

Just at this moment, a scream came from outside.