0439 Their Duel (Part-3)

0439 Their Duel (Part-3)

Bryan descended towards the earth enveloped by a ring of blazing sunlight that turned night into day. Though his descent was gradual, each inch of his progress carried with it an unstoppable sense of pressure. The colossal vines, as thick as ancient tree trunks and deeply rooted in the earth, wriggled and twisted in futile resistance against the overwhelming heat emanating from Bryan's solar cocoon.

Starting from their uppermost tendrils, the vines began to wither and crack. The process was agonizingly slow yet persistent spreading downward inch by excruciating inch. Simultaneously, the earth itself seemed to recoil from the intense heat. Layers of soil and rock peeled away like the skin of an overripe fruit, exposing the source of the vines' formidable power—the ancestral grapevine Staff passed down through countless generations of Druids.

Bryan's gaze locked upon the peculiar emerald-green staff emanating mysterious power. His eyebrows twitched almost imperceptibly as his mind flashed back to his first encounter with Cliodna, recalling how even then, he had sensed something extraordinary about the Staff she wielded. Now, face to face with its shown power, he realized his initial judgment had been correct, perhaps even an underestimation.

The protective barrier surrounding Cliodna was now like a mirage in the desert heat. It could no longer withstand the all-pervasive heat that threatened to reduce everything to ash. Sweat rolled down Cliodna's face as she gritted her teeth in a grimace of pain and determination. Under the relentless onslaught of Bryan's overwhelming magical force, she finally began to feel overwhelmed.

The sun ring illuminating the night sky had approached a dangerously close distance. If left unchecked, Cliodna knew with certainty that she would be reduced to nothing more than wisps of smoke in a matter of heartbeats, sharing the fate of her decimated vines under the surging heat.

Cliodna's emerald eyes, usually brimming with confidence and power, now held a mixture of emotions as she gazed upon the young figure within the sun ring. Despite his youthful appearance, Bryan's contemptuous look spoke volumes about the vast gulf in their abilities.

A glimmer of regret flashed across Cliodna's face. Her mind raced, replaying not just the rash actions of this fateful night, but also her ill-fated journey to Avalon Island. If only she had been more tactful in requesting Bryan Watson's help then, perhaps she might have secured his aid without incurring the wrath of this immensely powerful wizard.

As these thoughts tumbled through her mind, a dangerous glint appeared in Cliodna's eyes. She realized, with a jolt of hope, that she still held a trump card - leverage over Bryan Watson that could potentially turn the tide of this confrontation.

Watson was the notorious bounty wizard of the underworld - Golden Viper. While a select few in the upper echelons of the Wizarding world might be aware of this information, it was far from common knowledge. Watson definitely wouldn't want his dark identity exposed. If his activities as the Golden Viper were to become public, his carefully cultivated reputation would crumble to dust in an instant.

For a breathless moment, Cliodna had the idea of using this information to blackmail Bryan Watson into letting her go free. However, after a brief yet intense internal struggle, she reluctantly abandoned the notion.

Unless she found herself with absolutely no other option, Cliodna knew she couldn't bring herself to make such a decision. To do so would be tantamount to pushing Bryan Watson into a position of complete opposition - not just against her personally, but potentially against the entire Druid Order. The consequences of such an action could be catastrophic, bringing down Watson's furious wrath upon them all.

Moreover, In the eyes of the Wizarding world, Bryan Watson was regarded as the greatest wizard of the current age, hand-picked by Albus Dumbledore himself as his chosen successor. If the shocking truth about Watson's identity as the Golden Viper were to be revealed, what stance would Albus Dumbledore take?

Would he sacrifice Watson for the greater good, or would he be furious at the embarrassment?

If Dumbledore chose the former path, Cliodna might indeed get a temporary reprieve. However, if the latter proved true, it would undoubtedly spell utter disaster for both her and her sect. Although the kidnapping of Harry Potter had equally offended these two powerful Wizards, Cliodna clung to a sliver of hope. As long as the Boy Who Lived was alive, there remained a possibility, however slim, of eventual reconciliation.

As these conflicting thoughts and strategies raced through her mind with dizzying speed, Cliodna made a decision. With a surge, she reached out with her magical senses, probing the depths of the earth beneath her feet. The hand she had concealed within the ground earlier swiftly returned to her waiting palm. As her fingers closed around the warm, living wood of the Staff, Cliodna felt a rush of comforting energy flow through her. In that moment, she could almost see her long-dead teacher, that kind and benevolent old man who had first set her upon this path, smiling at her with encouragement and pride.

With a sound like a rushing wind, the remaining vines below dissipated in the blink of an eye. The sudden disappearance caught Bryan slightly off guard, his eyes narrowing in surprise and wariness.

With the support of her Staff acting as a channel and amplifier, Cliodna still possessed an abundance of raw power at her disposal. However, the mental and physical strain of wielding such potent magic had pushed her to the very limits of her endurance. She no longer had the energy to spare even a moment's thought to whatever Bryan might be lamenting, focusing all her remaining strength on simply drawing breath.

"Let me go, Watson!" Cliodna managed to gasp out, her voice raw with desperation and fatigue.

"I'm sorry—" Bryan calmly shook his head, "I'm afraid I cannot agree to your request, Miss Cliodna—"

Before Bryan could finish his sentence, a thunderous boom shook the earth. The oak guardian, responding to some unspoken command from its creator, suddenly staggered into motion. Its massive fist, easily the size of a small mountain, swung forward with terrifying speed and power. Before the fist even landed, the strong wind pressure directly collapsed half of the already teetering Quidditch field.

"You're wasting your effort—"

Bryan lightly floated away, effortlessly dodging the punch.

Bryan's judgement was correct. While the giant wooden man Cliodna had conjured through her magical skill indeed possessed unparalleled destructive capability, its effectiveness was severely limited in the hands of its creator, who was now pushed beyond the limits of her endurance. It could no longer be controlled at will, only futilely draining her energy.

As Bryan had foreseen, after expending the last of her strength to command the oak guardian to launch that single, mighty punch, Cliodna had no strength left. Blood stained her lips as she collapsed powerlessly on top of the guardian, her expression one of utter despair.

Bryan dispelled the protective shroud of fiendfyre that had surrounded him throughout the battle. He stood in mid-air, pointing his wand at the now motionless oak guardian.

"Sectumsempra—"

The tip of the ebony wand erupted with a dazzling display of cold, gleaming magical energy. Arcs of silvery light, as sharp and deadly as the finest-honed blades, lashed out in every direction. Without the guiding will of its controller to direct its actions, the once-mighty oak guardian now stood as helpless as a lamb before the slaughter. In an instant, the colossal wooden structure was reduced to nothing more than a shower of wooden splinters by the relentless assault of Bryan's spell.

Cliodna's limp, powerless body began to plummet towards the scarred and pitted ground far below. With a sigh, Bryan flicked his wand, halting Cliodna's descent and slowly drawing her towards him.

Just as everything seemed about to settle, a new and terrifying phenomenon manifested in the misty air above the ruined Quidditch field. A darkness deeper and more absolute than the void between stars began to seep into existence. Like drops of concentrated ink falling into clear water, this malicious darkness spread with alarming speed. Those who gazed upon it felt their very souls recoil, as it radiated an aura of pure evil and violence that defied description.

A shrill, exasperated voice cut through the eerie silence, sending chills down the spines of all who heard it.

"I remember telling you that it would be unwise to act during the World Cup!"

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