A ray of silver light shot from Moriarty's wand into the night sky, while a bright green beam burst from the tip of his other cedar wand. The two beams twisted midair, intertwining and fusing into a massive circular formation overhead. Magic surged within the circle—elemental water spells forming concentric patterns, runes spiraling like a celestial tide.
Moriarty hissed in Parseltongue, his voice slicing through the freezing air. The night froze, time seemingly suspended. Only the magical circle spun, glowing with icy runes etched by pure magical energy.
"Dance of the Ice Serpents!"
He swung both wands in an X-motion toward the ground. Bang! A thunderous crack echoed like an iceberg splitting. From the shimmering circle descended a colossal serpent.
The serpent's scales were an emerald hue, its body sheathed in frost-tipped blue crystals that shimmered under the moonlight.
"Hissssss!"
With an open maw, it lunged at the vampires below. Its fangs—glinting silver and slick with black venom—glinted ominously. The venom dripped like tar, sizzling as it scorched pits into the earth.
More followed. A second, then a third… until twelve serpents slithered from the heavens, colossal and divine, each one eclipsing the stars. The skies above Jewish Marquis Fortress grew pitch-dark beneath their shadows, blocking moonlight entirely.
Below, the vampire counts invoked blood curses. Waves of black ichor twisted into jagged swords that launched toward the snakes. But Moriarty didn't flinch. He cast an indifferent glance at the vampires, then turned his back and strolled toward Quinlan.
Behind him, the serpents began to coil and circle the battlefield. Their hissing grew like a storm. Entwined midair, their movements summoned a blizzard. Hail, icy rain, and snow slammed into the vampires. The earth turned crimson from splattered blood, but none of the foes froze—only suffered.
Their black blades shattered to dust beneath the icy storm. The vampire counts attempted retreat, but the serpents caught up within seconds.
"Sssssuck it!"
"Fuuuuck!"
Two of the serpents flicked out their tongues, licking the terrified counts like frozen treats. Their glossy fangs gleamed as they waited for Moriarty's next command.
"Kill them."
The Parseltongue hiss slithered out cold and merciless.
The serpents lunged. Crunch. Fangs pierced flesh. Blood burst and splattered, streaming down the serpents' mouths like crimson rain.
"The blood of vampire counts!" Leon's eyes lit up as he approached the pools of blood. "We should collect some for Sijiao. It could have incredible research value."
Charlie smirked. "You're flattering him now?"
Leon scoffed. "You think I got the Shadowless Severing Charm from Sijiao because of luck? You have to stay close to power, my friend."
Then, turning suspiciously toward Charlie: "Wait, you learned a new spell behind our backs? Sneaky! That's not very Weasley of you. Duel me when we get back?"
Charlie chuckled, "Sure, but let's return to Hogwarts first. Tonks? You in? I'm curious about that Hufflepuff hex we saw. I think it has some serious potential."
They spoke as if they'd routed a pack of mischievous goblins, not battled high-ranking vampires.
Tonks, meanwhile, was silent. Her eyes remained locked on Moriarty, a spring-like awe blossoming in her gaze.
Moriarty reached Quinlan. The system chimed:
"Ding dong~ Host has slain two vampire counts. Reward: 6000 points."
Points for kills. Efficient.
He turned to the battlefield and ordered: "Leave none."
Twelve serpents surged again.
"Ding dong~ Host has slain 27 Quinlan vampires. Reward: 3980 points."
Thirty-six vampires total. With Quinlan counted separately, that meant the Pureblood Army from Hogwarts had taken down eight—without a single miss.
An impressive feat for students.
Moriarty now stood at 10,600 points. Enough for another spell, but he wasn't in a rush. Instead, he used his cedar wand to adjust Quinlan's body, forcing his eyes open with a simple spell.
He focused, stared directly into Quinlan's pupils.
"Legilimens!"
White mist swirled. Moriarty stepped onto a blood-stained mental path. Ahead was a gate, ominous and locked tight.
"So this is Quinlan's mental realm?" Moriarty muttered, scanning the shadows. "Or perhaps… a spiritual sanctum? Either way, the secret of the Headless Vampire Ancestor must be here!"
He pushed open the gate.
Suddenly, a massive blood-colored bat screeched in his face!
"ZRAAAH!"
A jarring, skull-rattling scream shook his consciousness. Moriarty gritted his teeth, stumbling in mental pain.
"Moriarty," came a familiar voice, "You've actually come. Impressive."
"Quinlan? Trying to kill me now?"
"No, no. Death's too generous. When you murdered my grandson, I vowed to drain you dry and turn you into a starved thrall—unable to feed, enslaved for thirty years of suffering."
"So why wait?" Moriarty wheezed, trying to steady himself.
"Because you're going to meet Zu, our ancestor." Quinlan's words sent a chill through the psychic space.
"The Headless Ancestor?"
"Yes. And don't think your pain comes from me. It's not the bat-form that hurts—it's Zu's virus magic. It's already inside your mind, tampering with your thoughts, emotions, memories. And only Zu can undo it."
Moriarty clenched his fists. Was this virus magic truly invincible?
Quinlan circled overhead, voice smug. "You're a genius, true. Your reputation preceded you when you returned to England. But your power? It pales next to him."
"Who?" Moriarty demanded.
"The one you all idolize—Merlin. Even he couldn't crack this virus. That's why it's sealed with Zu. Now sleep, little wizard. Enjoy your final rest as a human. You'll either awaken a vampire or… become jerky."
Moriarty's vision dimmed, the pain unbearable. Quinlan descended, folding his wings toward Moriarty's head.
But Moriarty moved. His hands snapped up, gripping the bat's wings with force.
"How are you… resisting?!" Quinlan screeched, stunned.
"Look at my eyes!" Moriarty shouted. "Merlin may have failed… but I won't!"
"ALCHEMY MATRIX!"
A brilliant light shone in his eyes. The bat's form disintegrated into runes, symbols flaring in Moriarty's vision.
He recognized them.
He'd seen these runes before.
Where?
The Headless Horseman. The same markings etched into his body. It was all connected.
"You're exposed now," Moriarty whispered. "Let's see who you truly are."
Quinlan screamed, his essence flickering. Moriarty cast Frozen Touch, solidifying the bat, then gripped its head.
"LEGILIMENS!" he roared again.
This time, nothing blocked him.
He delved deep into Quinlan's thoughts—visions, memories, secrets unraveling like a scroll. What he saw made his heart race.
When he exited the mindscape, his expression was grave.
Without hesitation, he cast Shatter Body on Quinlan's mangled form. The vampire exploded into crimson mist.
Moriarty turned away, not sparing a glance. His voice echoed through the night.
"Marcus! Go back to England. Find Lockhart. Tell him to get here. He'll clean this up."
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