Chapter 278 "Skyler's Resolution"

"You still dare to bluff, child!" Morgan bellowed with fury. "No more stalling with your honeyed words! You're but a mortal, and your demise is imminent!"

"The Shadow Dragon, heed my command and form the Trapped Dragon Full Moon Formation! Even at the cost of your lives, do not allow this individual to escape!"

"Form up! Now!" The collective cries of hundreds resonated simultaneously. Dark energy surged from within their beings, spreading outward in all directions, intertwining their forms into a unified whole—a sight to behold. Their silhouettes vanished into the black haze, yet the faint sound of footsteps betrayed their movements as they meticulously arranged themselves, encircling Skyler with a meticulously crafted formation.

"Tsk, tsk," Skyler's eyes sparkled with fascination, as if beholding a rare treasure. "War magic, truly a sight to behold after so long. Today's encounter proves most enlightening."

"Barbarossa, Voldemort, pay no heed to this brat's prattle. Let us proceed!" With that command, the trio formed a triangle, effectively hemming Skyler in, leaving him with no room to evade or maneuver.

"Hehehehe," Skyler's laughter dripped with smugness. "If you insist... Since you claim I am but a mere mortal, perhaps you'd care to enlighten me as to why I am one!"

In an instant, Skyler's form seemed to waver, multiplying into a hundred replicas in the blink of an eye!

Skyler had executed his signature magical transfiguration spell—the skies filled with myriad gods and Buddhas!

Each duplicate of Skyler bore an exact likeness to the original, from attire to the wand grasped in hand, exuding an ancient aura.

As expected of a millennia-old sorceress, Morgan, though momentarily stunned, swiftly regained her composure, retorting with icy disdain, "Merely a transfiguration spell! I concede, your mastery over illusions is formidable, making it arduous to discern truth from fiction. Yet, these soulless doppelgangers serve no purpose beyond intimidation."

Though not Skyler's first time employing this illusion, it marked its debut before an audience.

Previously showcased solely to Draco, Eleanor, and his captives, it now unfolded as a fresh tactic for Morgan and her cohorts.

Despite Morgan's dismissive words, a sense of unease crept over her as Skyler unveiled yet another hidden stratagem.

Skyler's mastery of the transfiguration spell had reached such heights that even without formidable combat skills, he posed a formidable challenge.

Morgana was consider this, "I couldn't discern the true Skyler amidst the multitude of clones. I could only bide my time, waiting for him to inadvertently reveal his true self. But in doing so, weren't we relinquishing the initiative in combat?"

Moreover, should Skyler choose to flee and scatter his clones in all directions, apprehending him would prove no easy feat. After all, the three of us lacked the confidence to confront Skyler individually—we had to maintain close proximity to each other to avoid being picked off one by one.

"Barbarossa!" Morgan's voice rang out with a soft command.

"Allow me to handle this—Furor Maris!" Barbarossa swept his wand downward, conjuring forth a spectacular surge of water. With a swift motion, the torrent transformed into a colossal wave, towering like a miniature mountain, hurtling toward the hundred Skyler clones with the force of a tsunami.

Indeed, when facing multiple adversaries, area-of-effect magic stood as the most effective countermeasure. But could it be that Skyler hadn't anticipated this?

Morgan ground her teeth, her eyes ablaze with intensity. In many ways, she and Xuelin shared a common archetype of combat—strategic wizards.

Both were adept at formulating plans before engaging, crafting intricate tactics tailored to exploit the weaknesses and strengths of their adversaries.

Unlike Voldemort and Barbarossa, who relied predominantly on combat instinct and intuition, Morgan's approach was characterized by meticulous calculation and foresight.

At this moment, a thousand thoughts raced through her mind in an instant. Yet, amidst the flurry of considerations, an ominous premonition lingered, unshakeable. She couldn't shake the sense that they had stumbled into Skyler's meticulously laid trap—a realization that sent a chill down her spine.

"Damn it, why was this happening—"

Despite their meticulous preparations, comprehensive intelligence gathering, and apparent strategic advantage, why were they still forced into such a strenuous confrontation?

In the blink of an eye, amidst the tumultuous onslaught, a dark figure materialized amidst the towering waves. Morgan's narrowed gaze discerned a shape resembling a bird in flight, sparking a flicker of familiarity...

The towering wave seemed to part, creating a void through which a black shadow surged, transforming into an imperceptible white light that barreled toward them. Morgan, positioned at the forefront, bore the brunt of the onslaught.

Unable to discern the nature of the attack, Morgan hesitated to employ spatial magic for evasion, nor did she dare to erect defensive barriers.

Instead, she sidestepped and retreated a few paces, swiftly flinging forth the golden ring adorning her left wrist.

As the ring resonated with a metallic hum, the sound elongated, splitting into two, then four, and multiplying until thirty-two golden rings materialized, intercepting the incoming white light.

Click, click, click—the white light emitted a shrill, piercing chirp akin to a cacophony of a thousand birds in unison.

It struck the first golden ring, then swiftly traversed to the next, accelerating with each successive strike. In an instant, it surged from ring to ring, closing in on Morgan with alarming speed.

"It's you!" A spark of recognition ignited within Morgan as she identified the entity. It was none other than Aquila, the familiar of Ravenclaw.

Among the four esteemed founders, Ravenclaw stood as a figure of noble lineage, renowned for her aloof demeanor and aristocratic bearing.

Rarely seen in public, let alone engaged in combat, the notoriety of her demonic companion persisted through the ages, a testament to its formidable prowess.

Empowered by a levitation charm, Morgan hastened her retreat. With a flourish of her wand, over a dozen iron ropes infused with a crimson aura erupted from the ground, coiling into a net poised to ensnare Aquila.

Little did she anticipate the astonishing piercing capabilities of the white light emanating from Aquila. Ordinarily, these iron ropes, blessed with magical enhancement, rivaled the hardness of the Fairy Ancestor's Wujin.

Yet, before Aquila's onslaught, they crumbled like brittle twine.

Such piercing power... a rarity among elemental magics, lightning magic!

Drawing upon her millennia of combat experience, Morgan swiftly devised a countermeasure. Dropping to a crouch, she plunged her wand into the earth, murmuring softly, "Solidus Petra!"

A sudden rumble echoed forth from where she plunged her wand, and a wall of earth, bathed in a faint golden halo, surged rapidly before her. In the face of all-encompassing thunder and lightning, the steadfast stability of earth proved the most effective defense.

Voldemort and Barbarossa wasted no time. Seizing the opportunity, they darted past Morgan and the fortified barrier, flanking the colossal waves on either side, and directed their most potent magic towards the breach.

"Avada Kedavra!"

"Sagitta Corrosiva!"

Two thunderous reports reverberated, signaling the impact of their curses hitting their mark. Simultaneously, expressions of triumph graced the faces of Voldemort and Barbarossa.

"It's done!" Barbarossa's lips curled into a slight smirk as he spoke with chilling indifference. "No more than expected."

"Not necessarily..." Morgan's countenance remained taut, her gaze fixed solemnly on the dark void within the towering waves.

At that moment, the mountainous tsunami crashed upon the earth with immense force.

What followed?

The ground, now drenched from the onslaught, bore witness to the aftermath. Yet, amidst the chaos, Skyler remained unscathed—standing resolute. And his proclamation?

A hundred Skylers.