"How do you..."
"Truly, it's been a long time, hasn't it... how many years?"
William pinched his fingers and counted, "Ah, it's been nearly one hundred and six years, three months, and seven days since I last killed you, Victor Rookwood. Which grave did you crawl out of this time?" Seeing the reaction of the other, William knew that reality was probably not far from his guess.
Old acquaintances, those he once dealt with, the recognizable bosses were just a few, most were beasts or trolls—
With the scope narrowing down again and again, he almost effortlessly locked onto the other's identity.
As for how he resurrected... to be honest, after witnessing so many life-extending methods, William wasn't really surprised by his old enemy crawling out of the grave, though not surprised, curiosity was inevitable, thus he decided to capture him alive.
The "Prophet," or Victor Rookwood, the figure cloaked under a cape, visibly stiffened for a moment, though unable to see his expression, the sudden chaotic magical power fluctuation completely exposed his inner unease—
He knew this guy in front of him too well, the other had once, at the age of fifteen, single-handedly and overwhelmingly defeated the elite Ashwinder team led by him...
Even back then, he had only gone through brief training with a few old paintings and had yet to truly access the Secret Vault—
Thinking of this made the man's heart uncontrollably clawed in panic, his voice showing noticeable falter for the first time, "In such circumstances, how, how will you struggle?!" He instinctively retorted, "The Secret Vault is mine!! If it weren't for that damned old man Charles, it should've been my inherent right!!"
Speaking thus, the man forcefully flicked the magic wand in his hand, this time casting the Killing Curse, William's relaxed demeanor making him completely abandon the thought of tormenting the other—
He knew that villains die from too much talking, heavy blows were necessary now—
"Roar—"
But this time, faster than William's action was the fire dragon behind him, as Norbert roared angrily, the crimson-gold light shield instantly coalesced into form, albeit the deadly green lightning did not possess the same overwhelming capacity as the earlier red charm, it struck the layer of defense, creating ripples but unable to penetrate.
"So, I say, you made a mistake."
And behind the light screen, William leisurely flicked his magic wand before putting it away, glancing down at the golden rune beneath his feet, his lips subtly curled, "So, do you think disconnecting my link to the Secret Vault, transferring that energy to yourself would make it safe and secure?"
This time, Rookwood didn't answer but instead increased the output of magical power in his hand—
Sweat slowly dripped down the man's forehead, theoretically, the Iron Armor Spell couldn't withstand the Killing Curse, but the Iron Armor cast by that fire dragon appeared inexplicably peculiar... no, not right, the mere fact that a fire dragon could cast the Iron Armor Spell was peculiar enough!
Seeing the other choose silence, William shook his head, a hint of pity in his tone, "Isadora Morgana extracted emotions from nearly half of Hogwarts and the surrounding people, and those emotions converted into magical energy created the Secret Vault—guess, can I do the same?"
As he spoke, he raised his left hand, fingers slightly spread, seemingly grappling something in the air.
Watching this, alarm bells rang wildly in Rookwood's heart, a singular thought filled his mind instantly—escape!
But the next moment, his gaze met a pair of amber vertical pupils, and somehow, Norbert seemed to sense the opponent's retreat, roaring to the sky once more, the crimson-gold shield cast upon itself by a faint purple glow—
In the next moment, Rookwood felt a tremendous suction coming from the magic wand he tightly gripped, almost instantaneously draining all his magical power.
Almost simultaneously, the energy he transferred to himself from the Secret Vault filled his body again, making the previously panicked man unexpectedly calm—indeed, he now possessed the Secret Vault! This was the key to the invincibility of that demon across, how could he possibly lose!
Here, he was the home team—
"...It won't be for long."
William seemed to hear the man's inner cry, a faint smile graced his lips, a deep blue orb appeared in his slightly open palm, and then he flipped his palm, the orb fell, shattered, slowly... no, rapidly flowed along the pale golden magic runes, occupying nearly half the altar in the blink of an eye—
"I actually lack creativity, barely have few of my own spells—"
Speaking such, William lifted his right hand and gently flicked, in the next instant, blue completely substituted the surrounding golden light, the circuits of magic patterns changed at this moment, "but my learning ability in magic is quite decent, as long as it comes to spells, everything is learned at a glance, including—the conversion of emotional energy."
Precisely at the moment when William's words fell, transformation ensued.
The anomaly didn't stem from William nor Victor Rookwood, but from those encircling the altar, fervently maintaining the altar, chanting spells—the members of the Ashwinder party.
"Ugh—"
A short yet extremely painful scream erupted from the mouth of the first, directly halting the chant in their mouth, as if struck by an invisible sledgehammer hitting the brain, they abruptly knelt down, clutching their head tightly, body convulsing violently—
Following this, like triggering a chain reaction, the second, third... in just a few seconds, almost all Ashwinder underlings were caught, briefly shrieking in agony, then their eyes grew vacant, clearly not dead but—
"What did you do!!"
The Prophet turned to look at his surroundings plunged in chaos, from the shadow under the hood, a gaze of disbelief seemed palpable.
"...Didn't I explain just now?"
William squinted his eyes, "Not listening properly during lessons, now you don't understand and come asking." Speaking thus, he raised his hand, in the next instant, a milky white energy cluster rose gently from his palm like the morning sun, "Indeed, Isadora's methods were somewhat conservative, extracting merely the painful emotions, efficiency too low, how much energy can one garner alone?"
"You..."
"Joy, anger, anticipation, surprise, sadness..."
William brought that cluster of pure magic energy refined from various emotions to his lips, "Clearly humans possess so many emotions..." Speaking such, he gently inhaled, the pure energy traversing down his throat, a hint of unusual blush streaked across William's face, "Ah, it's only this way that's truly robust enough..."