Harry Potter: I am the Legend

If a beautiful foreign woman resolutely tells you, "Hold me," most men would likely embrace her without hesitation—it's a reflex buried in human DNA.

But in the next instant, if that same woman takes you leaping off a 300-meter-high building without a second's pause, such a thrilling twist of events would leave most people reeling in terror rather than awe.

Aosivia's sudden jump caught Hoffa completely off guard. He clung tightly to her back, his legs wrapping around her waist like roots clinging to an ancient tree. The freezing Christmas night wind lashed his face, nearly paralyzing it.

"Did you bring a parachute!?" Hoffa bellowed.

"What did you say?"

"Are you expecting me to fly us down!?"

Stunned, he yelled, "I can't turn into a bird yet!"

"Scared?" Aosivia turned her head, a smirk playing on her lips.

"Don't tell me you don't have a plan!"

Hoffa felt like strangling her. Three hundred meters—a fall from that height would turn even the strongest man into a smear on the pavement.

Sure enough, moments later, a loud crash came from the ground below. A man in a suit had landed with a force akin to an artillery shell, scattering snow everywhere. He was buried over a meter deep in the ground but climbed out as though nothing had happened.

Without hesitation, the man sprinted in the direction of the school infirmary at a speed that would make Bolt envious.

Meanwhile, as they descended further down the tower, Aosivia still showed no sign of deploying a parachute. Desperate and out of options, Hoffa could no longer hold back. His eyes widened, and golden patterns streaked from his arms to his back. His shoulder blades jutted outward, and massive skeletal wings began to unfold.

But just as the transformation started, Aosivia waved her wand. From a distant tower came the sound of shattering glass.

The noise startled Hoffa, causing him to momentarily halt his Animagus transformation.

A slim black object zipped through the air toward them.

In seconds, it reached Hoffa—a flying broom! Aosivia swung her long leg over it, mounting it with practiced ease and looking utterly composed as if everything had gone according to plan.

Hoffa, on the other hand, slammed awkwardly onto the broom, pain shooting through him as he straddled it. He clung to Aosivia's waist, groaning, and wondered if one of his "precious assets" had just been shattered.

Retracting his wings, he howled in frustration, "Have you read Harry Potter or something!?"

"What are you talking about? You're choking me!"

But Hoffa didn't let go.

Aosivia raised her wand, pointing it toward the suited man fleeing below. She roared, "Ground Spikes!"

From the snowy ground, dozens of meter-long spikes shot upward at a 45-degree angle, forming a barrier resembling a spear formation in front of the man.

Yet the fleeing man barreled straight through the spikes like a bulldozer, snapping them apart with ease.

"Damn it!" Aosivia growled through clenched teeth.

"Don't lose it just yet!" Hoffa yelled into her ear, gripping her hair. "Call the Aurors! Get back-up here!"

"Don't pull my hair—I know!"

She shook her head fiercely and quickly traced a green circular rune in the air. With a press of her hand, the rune spun and vanished.

With that done, she pressed the broom into a steep dive, accelerating toward the suited man below.

The broom skidded to a halt on the snow-covered ground outside the infirmary. Aosivia leapt off gracefully and strode forward, stopping about five meters from the suited man.

Hoffa stumbled off the broom, still clutching his aching groin. He hobbled over to Aosivia, panting.

The suited man halted, glancing back at the flying broom.

"Interesting," he muttered.

"You're truly audacious, showing up anywhere you please," Aosivia said, her voice trembling with suppressed anger.

The man paid no attention to her words. Instead, he gestured lazily for them to come closer before turning and walking toward the infirmary.

Aosivia didn't move but smirked coldly.

The moment the man reached the infirmary door, two black-robed Aurors stepped out from the shadows of the Roman columns nearby, their expressions icy.

Within seconds, another dozen Aurors emerged from rooftops, windowsills, and other vantage points.

Without a word, they flicked their wands, sending a barrage of red spells that coiled around the man's arms like chains.

Only then did Aosivia step forward, her smirk deepening. "You killed my brother. Then you killed my father. Did you think that after all this time, I wouldn't improve at all?"

The man glanced at his bound arms and gave a small nod. "Hatred does spur growth."

With that, his arms—wrapped in countless spells—suddenly snapped off, falling to the ground.

The Aurors gasped, some stumbling back in shock.

Now free, the man bolted toward the infirmary at lightning speed, disappearing into the hall in the blink of an eye.

"Find him and cut off his legs," Aosivia ordered coldly.

Aurors swiftly obeyed the order and followed Aosivia into the school infirmary.

Hoffa, however, lingered, slowly approaching the discarded arms left behind by the man. Crouching down, he inspected them closely.

The arms appeared to be made of flesh on the outside, but within, black metallic components—resembling door bolts—glimmered faintly with traces of magical light.

Construct Wizard?

Those peculiar individuals obsessed with Muggle technology.

Hoffa narrowed his eyes.

Standing up, he felt a gnawing sense that something was amiss. The man's intent had been unwavering—landing and running straight for the infirmary with almost single-minded determination. What was he after?

Still consumed by doubt, Hoffa trailed behind the Aurors and stepped into the infirmary.

At two in the morning, the hospital was shrouded in darkness.

The Aurors moved swiftly with their wands alight, faint glimmers illuminating their path.

Hoffa followed them through the empty infirmary lobby and down into the underground level. Here, a long, seemingly endless corridor stretched before them. Dim purple lights dotted the walls every few meters, casting an eerie glow over the place.

In the distance, the flickering figure of the armless man could be seen, still running ahead.

Aosivia cautiously halted at the entrance to the corridor, refraining from rushing forward recklessly.

Hoffa stepped beside her. "Be careful. Something's off about this place."

"I know," she replied curtly.

Reaching for her necklace, she pulled it free. In her hand, the necklace transformed into a massive serpent-shaped bow that radiated a sharp, chilling green glow, exuding intricate magical energy.

Aosivia rested her wand on the bowstring.

The moment the wand touched the bow, it morphed into a glowing green arrow. With a flick of her fingers, the arrow split into two; another flick, and they became four. The sheer magical energy emanating from the bow made Hoffa's scalp tingle.

She released the string.

Four arrows streaked through the air with blinding speed.

The armless man ahead turned his head just in time and launched himself into the air. His body twisted in a seemingly impossible arc, his shoulders and hips bending into a full 360-degree rotation as he dodged the incoming arrows mid-flight.

Aosivia smirked coldly. As the arrows missed their mark, she hurled the bow itself into the air. The serpent-shaped bow spun and transformed mid-flight into a chain adorned with spiked metal balls on either end.

Caught mid-leap, the man hadn't anticipated the follow-up. Dodging was no longer an option.

The spiked chain struck him dead-on, coiling tightly around his body and pinning his arms and torso together.

He crashed heavily to the ground, and the four green arrows embedded in the floor around him discharged a burst of electricity. Energy chains erupted from the arrows, binding him firmly to the spot.

The entire sequence unfolded in less than two seconds.

Aosivia glanced around. The Aurors nodded in understanding, cautiously raising their wands as they approached. Soon, they had the man surrounded at the end of the corridor.

"Let's go," Aosivia said to Hoffa. "Let's see who this guy really is."

"You're much calmer than you were during the summer," Hoffa remarked, offering her a rare compliment.

"Hmm." Aosivia gave no reaction.

The two of them advanced to the end of the underground corridor.

There, Hoffa was surprised to see a massive, pitch-black iron door. The man now stood before it, his entire body crackling with green electricity.

Aosivia stood motionless, her gaze fixed on him like a serpent watching its prey.

The bindings grew tighter around the man, but he raised his head and smiled faintly.

"Summoning Charms, Transfiguration, and chains designed specifically to counter me. Miss Romanov, I must admit, your growth in just half a year is remarkable."

Aosivia raised her hand, and one of the arrows on the ground transformed back into her wand, flying neatly into her grasp. She pointed it at the man, saying nothing.

"You've grown much more composed," the man chuckled. "Has time dulled your fury?"

"Who are you?" Aosivia demanded coldly.

The man shook his head. "It's often said that people only truly understand themselves when they're on the verge of death.

"In some ways, I know your family better than you do. Would you like to know how your father begged me before he died?"

In an instant, Aosivia's wand transformed into a curved blade.

Hoffa noticed her eyes beginning to redden, then glanced at the mocking smirk on the face of the man on the ground. Instantly, he realized his senior might once again be losing herself to the overwhelming desire for revenge.

"Stop."

He grabbed Aosivia's arm firmly.

"Keep him alive. We still need to interrogate him."

Aosivia took a deep breath, steadying herself, and stepped back.

The man, however, smirked and continued, "When your brother was about to die, he begged me not to kill him, crying like a coward. But I still blew his brains out. To be honest, he was weak at heart. Even if he had lived longer, he wouldn't have amounted to much."

Hoffa immediately clasped his hands together, trying to seal the man's mouth with a Shattering Grasp spell. But before he could act, Aosivia pushed him forcefully against the wall.

"Wait!" Hoffa shouted in alarm.

The man on the ground smiled faintly. "Too late."

As he spoke, he hurled himself backward, slamming into the massive iron door behind him.

The moment the door burst open, Aosivia's blade sliced cleanly through his neck.

The man's head tumbled to the ground, rolling a few times before coming to a stop. The red light in his eyes flickered briefly and then went out, as if someone had unplugged a television. His body became lifeless, like an inanimate object.

The surrounding Aurors froze, exchanging uneasy glances.

"Madwoman," Hoffa muttered under his breath, quickly crouching to examine the decapitated head.

What he found shocked him—where the head had been severed, there was no flesh or bone, only an intricate array of gears and axles.

Hoffa reached out to inspect it further.

There was no muscle twitching, no blood, only cold, lifeless metal—like a corpse that had been dead for years.

His thoughts turned to what Tom Riddle had said.

This man... wasn't human.

He was nothing more than a controlled construct. No wonder the spells cast on him had little effect.

Hoffa, still crouching, looked up at Aosivia. "He was being controlled."

Aosivia stared pale-faced at the severed neck, remaining silent.

Hoffa turned away, swallowing hard. He searched the man's body thoroughly but found only a spent revolver and a commemorative Ravenclaw coin.

He stood up slowly, turning his attention to the dark chamber beyond the iron door.

This man had gone to such great lengths to bring them here.

Could he have set a trap inside?

Despite his doubts, Hoffa couldn't resist stepping into the mysterious room at the end of the corridor.

Uncertainty, confusion, and suspicion churned in his mind. Yet, as he rounded the corner, the sight before him left him utterly stunned.

The walls were covered in dense networks of purple circuits, glowing faintly. At regular intervals, magical crystals shimmered along the walls, illuminating the space. Around the room, nearly a dozen towering glass tanks stood in eerie rows.

Inside each tank floated mutilated bodies, their missing limbs suspended in the transparent liquid. The sight was both grotesque and horrifying.

Moving further in, Hoffa noticed a surgical table in front of the tanks.

A lifeless male corpse lay flat on the table. His arms and legs had been removed, replaced with metallic bolts and constructs that exuded an ancient technological aura.

Next to the surgical table, a tray held discarded magical crystals, a human heart, and several sharp surgical blades.

Suddenly, Aosivia grabbed Hoffa's shoulder.

"Hoffa, look," she said, her voice trembling.

Hoffa turned his head and immediately froze in shock.

In an inconspicuous corner of the chamber stood a black coffin, upright against the wall.

The black coffin was intricately carved with elaborate patterns. At its top, surrounding a goat-head sculpture, were three circular engravings.

The outermost ring held an embedded crown.

The middle ring displayed a bracelet.

The innermost ring depicted an eye with a coin-sized indentation at its center.

Power. Prestige. Wealth.

In exchange for infinite knowledge.

At the sight of the coffin, every hair on Hoffa's body stood on end. His mind raced back to last year, when he had studied Shattering Grasp in the Book of Spells. He remembered seeing Headmaster Armando Dippet making a trade with Grindelwald—for a black coffin.

A distant thud echoed from the far corner of the room, followed by faint voices growing closer.

"Reiner, are you sure this thing will work for my body?"

"Armando, I've said this before, but I'll repeat it again. I really don't recommend using this technology. While it may temporarily solve your problem, it will irreparably harm your body's integrity."

"Enough. I've endured this for nearly ten years. At this point, I can't afford to falter. Just tell me—how long will the full transformation take?"

"Six months. In six months, you'll make a complete recovery. Wait a moment—something's off!"

"What is it, Reiner?"

"One of the test subjects is missing."

A voice in the room exclaimed in alarm, "Impossible! That's not possible!"

Hoffa staggered, reaching out to steady himself against the wall, barely able to remain upright.

He exchanged a horrified glance with Aosivia, their pale faces reflecting the shock in each other's eyes.

Slowly, they crept around the corner.

There, they saw Headmaster Armando Dippet emerging from a hidden chamber with Reiner, the school's healer, who was clad in a white coat.

Dippet was bare-chested, his wrinkled torso gleaming with the black sheen of metal. His chest cavity and entire right arm had been replaced with mechanical components, their dark metallic surfaces glinting ominously.

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