Harry Potter: I am the Legend

"Choose—ascend with me or perish with the school."

Hoffa stared into Sylby's eyes. They were devoid of emotion, harboring only the madness concealed beneath their ancient, icy depths.

His last shred of hope shattered. He saw the truth clearly.

The opponent was thoroughly prepared, an exceptional actor, with a meticulous, flawless plan. Ruthless yet methodical, patient in solitude, resistant to temptation, and always with a backup—Sylby was the embodiment of a cunning protagonist from an intellect-driven thriller.

And himself? Hoffa was merely a second-year student. Even with the advantage of having lived a few extra years, he was no match for this millennia-old monster.

Hoffa understood now. Sylby's ambition wasn't just limited to a school, a nation, or even a continent. His desires, his aspirations, and his ideologies would never allow him to stop.

Perhaps Hoffa was just one of countless obstacles Sylby intended to trample over.

At this moment, the scene of carnage and mountains of corpses Hoffa had witnessed in Barcelona resurfaced in his mind. He saw ruins and countless lives obliterated in a calculated scheme.

It was his heart's demon, his deepest fear.

For a year, he had awakened from nightmares countless times, acutely aware of his own insignificance and powerlessness. And now, a similar scene was about to unfold again.

He lowered his gaze to the orb and then looked up at the mirrored lake surface, where more constructs fell, and more explosives were placed in the school.

In that moment, Hoffa finally grasped the weight of the phrase etched on the coin.

"Seek the light within the darkness."

It was more than just a simple phrase. It was a torment to the soul, a challenge to the essence of life itself.

Who am I? Why am I here?

Standing at the center of the Black Lake, beneath the oppressive black clouds of 1940, Hoffa once again tried to understand himself, to comprehend life. But the results were far from satisfactory.

A whirlwind of thoughts flashed through his mind.

Hoffa exhaled deeply and finally calmed down.

"Do you want to know what I think?"

"Let's hear it," Sylby replied, tilting his head.

"For the past six months, I've spent three minutes every day repenting for my past.

Once, there was someone who faced life and adventure with optimism, despite being physically disabled. But I couldn't protect him. I watched him die right in front of me—that was my failure.

Countless times, I've wondered—if I had another chance, could I have done better?

That person was my friend. I would have helped him, faced adventures alongside him."

Hoffa paused, then continued, "But that person isn't you.

The coin of Rowena Ravenclaw must have been with you for a long time. Yet it seems you never truly understood its meaning. Or perhaps you did, but you've long since dismissed it."

Looking at Sylby's impassive face, Hoffa smiled faintly and said calmly:

"I think you're a conspirator, a murderer, a coward who resorts to any means to achieve his goals—a spider thriving in the darkness. I have no desire to align myself with you.

Unlimited power, endless wealth, and authority? Ha, those things are as laughable to me as a pile of filth.

I often ask myself what I truly want—what my life's goal is. And after much thought, I've realized I seek happiness. I still don't fully understand what happiness means, but one thing I know for sure: what I want, you can't give me."

He placed the Hogwarts Orb on the ground and added, "Killing others to prove one's strength? That's not something I can do. Give up."

Sylby silently stared at him for a long time.

Then, a faint smile appeared on his lips as his hand transformed, revealing the dark barrel of a gun. Pointing it at Hoffa's head, he said, "It's been nice seeing you again, little brother."

Hoffa raised his middle finger and smiled faintly.

"Go **** yourself."

Bang!

The gun fired, and the muzzle flash illuminated Hoffa's face.

The bullet was just a meter away from him.

Oddly enough, in the final 0.01 seconds of his life, Hoffa wasn't afraid. Instead, he felt a sense of relief—a pure, unreserved clarity in facing himself. The demon that had plagued him for a year crumbled in that moment.

But the anticipated splatter of blood and brain matter didn't occur.

The bullet spun and halted a mere centimeter above his head.

Hoffa saw a translucent figure standing before him, her hand outstretched, stopping the bullet.

Her body shimmered with a faint blue light, rippling like water. She seemed like a magical apparition, ethereal and ghostly.

Turning his head, he saw three more figures standing beside him—one glowing green and frail, another with an earthy yellow aura, plump and kind, and a third radiating red light, tall and strong.

And somehow, the Hogwarts Orb was now floating beside him.

"Help us," said the female figure who had stopped the bullet. Her voice was soft. "Help this school."

Hoffa stared blankly at the four apparitions. He didn't recognize three of them, but the gentle, elegant woman standing before him was unmistakable. He knew her; her statue stood in his common room.

Rowena Ravenclaw.

As for the other three?

"You..."

Sylby's eyes filled with nostalgia, and his voice grew ancient. "You old relics, dead for a thousand years. You've finally decided to show up?"

The four apparitions ignored him and stood protectively in front of Hoffa.

A handsome and tall male apparition pushed Hoffa's back, helping him up, and whispered softly in his ear:

"I truly wish you could wield my sword."

The slightly plump Hufflepuff bent down, placed the orb into Hoffa's hand, and said, "Hold on to your resolve."

Meanwhile, Slytherin simply said curtly, "Be careful."

Sylby, standing alone in the distance and leaning on his wheelchair, looked at the five of them with arrogance and sneered:

"Using choices as a password, using death to filter out those unfit to be pawns—classic Ravenclaw, Ronai."

The apparition of Rowena Ravenclaw turned to him, her tone indifferent, and uttered a single sentence:

"How pitiful, seeing only darkness in everything."

"Isn't it?" Sylby roared in response.

Ravenclaw shook her head, released the bullet she had stopped, and placed her hand on Hoffa's forehead.

"I am proud of you," she said.

An endless torrent of magical power surged from her hand into Hoffa's body. The orb in his hand dimmed completely, and the four apparitions vanished at the same time.

Power coursed wildly within him. Hoffa glanced at his watch, its needle spinning rapidly:

1X, 2X, 3X, 4X, 5X!

It maxed out!

What a boundless surge of magic. He turned to face Sylby.

Sylby flexed his neck, smirking coldly.

"A pack of jackals clinging together, dreaming of challenging the power of a lion? Utter foolishness!"

In an instant, he vanished from his spot. Hoffa vanished as well.

The next moment—

Boom!

The two reappeared in the center of the lake island, their fists colliding with explosive force.

The sheer sonic boom sent massive waves rippling across the lake, and the white stone ground cracked and shattered.

Steel met flesh. Hoffa's left arm shattered piece by piece, flesh tearing apart, as he saw the cold smile on Sylby's face and the indifferent gray pupils beneath his windswept gray hair.

Sylby held off Hoffa's powerful punch, the immense force driving him into the stone slabs and forcing him to bend forward.

Magic frenziedly transformed into life energy within Hoffa. As Sylby's tremendous strength shattered his bones inch by inch, they repaired themselves instantly—each time stronger than before.

Watching Hoffa's body slowly mend itself, Sylby remained unfazed. Holding Hoffa at bay with one hand, he pressed against his thigh with the other and slowly straightened up, trembling and smirking coldly.

"Everything is going according to my plan, little brother."

As he spoke, he raised his leg. Joints across his blackened body opened, revealing hidden purple magical crystals.

Boom!

His leg slammed into Hoffa's chest.

Hoffa was sent flying through a pile of books, crashing heavily into Salazar Slytherin's statue, which collapsed in a thunderous crash.

Slamming his hand on the ground, Hoffa twisted midair, performing a 720-degree flip to evade the falling debris.

Then, crouching low, he launched himself back. With no flashy moves, he delivered a straightforward punch to Sylby's abdomen.

Boom!

Sylby was sent flying into the towering Gryffindor statue, which split cleanly in half, crashing down upon his steel frame. He kicked aside the rubble, leapt forward, and landed firmly on the ground.

Calmly, he said, "Is that all you've got?"

With those words, he bent his body, purple magical light flaring from every mechanical joint. Like a cannonball, he shot forward, appearing abruptly behind Hoffa.

"A true wizard learns to watch his back."

Hoffa's eyes widened, and he instinctively activated Ghost Walk, but he was a second too late.

Boom!

A blackened fist struck Hoffa's cheek, shattering his cheekbone and sending a tooth flying. The impact sent him hurtling over fifty meters, crashing through a train parked on the lake's surface. The train swayed and groaned as it teetered.

Hoffa tumbled onto the tracks.

His spine was broken in three places, and nearly half his ribs were shattered. Lying on the tracks, he coughed up a mouthful of blood.

Inside him, magic transformed into a torrent of life energy, tirelessly repairing his injuries. His chest inflated like a balloon being filled with air, returning to its original form.

In the distance, Sylby gave him no time to recover.

Fixing his gaze on Hoffa's fallen position, Sylby raised his arm. The arm split apart, revealing the gaping barrel of a cannon. Dozens of shells launched from his arm.

The moment Hoffa phased into Ghost Walk, he floated onto the lake surface. Turning his head, he saw his face illuminated by the oncoming barrage.

Boom, boom, boom!

The next second, the shells struck Hoffa.

Shards of rock flew, thick smoke rolled, water sprayed wildly, and the train tracks twisted like a pretzel, rising high into the air.

Sylby leapt forward, crossing dozens of meters in a single bound, slamming down onto the lake. The warped tracks buckled beneath him, sending waves surging several meters high.

Landing, he cracked his joints and strode purposefully forward, his steps steady and resolute.

Through the rising mist, the smoke from the explosions cleared, revealing a massive silhouette.

Sylby's lips curled into a smirk.

"As expected, you never disappoint me, Hoffa Bach."

As the mist dispersed, the silhouette grew clearer.

It was a creature cloaked in metallic wings, each feather a cold, unyielding piece of steel. The explosions had been completely deflected by this metallic armor.

The immense, gleaming metal wings spread open, ten meters in length, revealing Hoffa behind them.

Sylby nodded slightly.

"Interesting."

Hoffa stood tall. With the immense magic surging through him, he began attempting the most advanced human transformation spell he had learned that year.

At this moment, the injuries within his body were fully healed with the aid of life transformation. He gazed at Sylby standing on the white lake in the distance. Lifting his head, he tensed his legs, and with a mighty flap of his fully metallic wings, he shot into the air at incredible speed.

At a height of thirty meters, the metallic wings on his back swiftly dissolved into shimmering blue light, scattering like stardust as they floated around him.

This was pure magic.

With a simple raise of his hand and a point of his finger, the floating magic gathered at Hoffa's fingertip, transforming into a surge of tens of thousands of volts of electricity.

Boom!!

A high-energy beam engulfed the man on the tracks in an instant.

The entire white lake was illuminated by flashing arcs of electricity, the ambient electric charge making the hairs on one's body stand on end.

This very attack had incapacitated the dark wizard Schmidt Lutroff last year. Yet as he used it again now, Hoffa's expression turned grave, his focus unyielding.

Sure enough, as the mist cleared, Sylby stood calmly amidst the swirling blue currents, his head tilted. The electricity that lashed against his body charred his skin, but his expression remained unchanged.

He glanced at the electricity crackling in his palm, shook his head, and sighed.

"Too scattered. All these flashy abilities are futile against me, Hoffa. You still don't understand the essence of magic."

"Alright."

Hoffa wasn't discouraged. He plummeted from the sky, biting his finger. The immense magical power of the Thunderbird surged within him, transforming and flowing.

Activation Mode!

His entire form shifted again, growing taller by a head's height. His bones split and reshaped inside him, turning him into a more complex being. His tendons elongated, each muscle strand resembling steel threads, and every joint sprouted sharp bone spurs. His fingers became pure black, curved, and razor-sharp, and his entire physique radiated a lean and deadly aura.

Amidst the flickering arcs of lightning, he lifted his head slightly.

"Come on!"

With a single step, he bent the rails beneath his feet and skimmed along the lake's surface like a streaking shadow.

Crack! Crack! Crack!

Sylby's back arched, and every joint in his body erupted with powerful propulsion forces.

The two clashed once more.

This time, the impact overturned a train on the tracks, and the lake erupted with massive waves.

Sylby's forearm was dislocated from the collision, and black metal protruded from his elbow, connecting to his upper arm. Purple lightning crackled, while the leaking magical energy created a palpable tension in the air.

Immediately, Hoffa landed a kick on Sylby's chest while gripping his shoulder blade tightly.

Bang!!

With a resounding crack, Hoffa lifted his leg and delivered a powerful strike.

An arm was torn off with sheer force, and Sylby was sent hurtling over a hundred meters, crashing into White Rock Island. The tremendous impact shattered the entire island into pieces.

Rubble buried him completely.

Hoffa tossed aside the severed mechanical arm and strode forward with increasing speed. The strain of this state bore down on him heavily, akin to performing anaerobic exercises at full intensity.

Boom!

Sylby climbed out from the rubble, casually brushing the debris off his body with one hand. He looked up at Hoffa, whose body glimmered with flashing arcs of electricity, and spoke with calm composure.

"To think you can achieve this level against my fully activated state. Impressive. You're indeed someone I've taken an interest in."

Hoffa, charging forward, remained on full alert.

Sylby stood, bent his knees, and activated the joints in his legs. The magical power within crystalline cores flowed into the joints, unleashing an explosive force that nearly obliterated the remnants of White Rock Island.

Amidst a deafening explosion, he vanished from sight once more.

Hoffa entered a ghostly walking state, but Sylby's hand plunged into his abdomen, gripping his spine.

With a cruel smile, he forcibly dragged Hoffa out of the shadow realm.

He withdrew his hand and clenched it into a fist, driving it into Hoffa's face. The blow shattered Hoffa's nose and teeth in a single strike.

In the following ten seconds, Sylby pinned Hoffa onto the rails. His metal foot split apart, clamping Hoffa's throat, while his free hand rained down fifty punches like a relentless pile driver.

Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!!!

Hoffa's body caved in like broken clay, only to regenerate rapidly under the vast magical energy, his form akin to memory metal. Hoffa glared fiercely at his opponent, as a metallic sheen began to envelop his body bit by bit.

This was Osivia's human transformation technique.

Gradually, the dents left on his body by Sylby's heavy punches grew shallower, until the sound of flesh tearing transformed into the clanging of metal.

"Good punching bag," Sylby praised, then swung Hoffa by the leg and slammed him into the desolate island at the lake's center.

Hoffa plummeted at supersonic speed, crashing into the island with a thunderous boom.

White stones scattered in all directions, and the statues of the four founders were completely obliterated. The pile of ancient forbidden books was torn to shreds, with pages soaring high into the air.

For a moment, the lake water surged and flooded the scene, leaving the mirrored world in utter chaos. It took a long while for the turbulent waters to calm again.

The pages of forbidden texts drifted down from the sky, mixing with raindrops like a torrential downpour, landing one by one at Sylby's feet. Standing single-armed on the lake's surface, he gazed at the completely destroyed White Island ahead, shaking his head as he muttered:

"Come on, come on, come on, brother. Is that all you've got? Don't give up. Don't give up. Don't give up."

As if in response to his murmurs—

Boom!!

An explosive roar erupted, scattering the thick mist again in a storm of lightning and lake water.

The one-armed Sylby let out a wild, fervent laugh. "Bring it on!!"

His laughter abruptly stopped as Hoffa, now with wings on his back, appeared before him in an instant, gripping Sylby's neck. Hoffa's eyes were completely filled with blinding golden light, and his entire body gleamed as if forged from steel.

As he staggered backward, the one-armed Sylby lifted his leg to kick at Hoffa's face, only for his kick to be caught mid-air with a single hand.

"It ends here, Sylby," Hoffa said coldly.

Sylby froze as Hoffa's grip tightened, and with a crushing sound, Sylby's leg, pressed against Hoffa's face, was shattered in Hoffa's iron grip.

Without hesitation, Hoffa exerted his strength, tearing off Sylby's lower leg entirely.

Then, grabbing Sylby by the pelvis and ribs, Hoffa hoisted him into the air. Veins bulged across his metallic arms as he pushed his activated state to its absolute limit.

Life 5.

Life 6.

Life 7.

Life 8.

Life 9.

"Rahhhh!"

With a roar, Hoffa ripped Sylby clean in half at the waist.

He hurled Sylby's lower half away and held his upper half aloft by the neck, raising him over the lake's surface. Purple lightning crackled and sparked, green machine oil dripping from Sylby's abdomen into the water below.

"You've lost," Hoffa declared. "I'll tear off all your limbs and mail your head to the Wizengamot in a box via owl."

"Lost?"

Even with only one arm left, Sylby sneered mockingly as he hovered mid-air. "Brother, surely you don't think I'd stake my Hogwarts soul on just some punches and kicks, do you?"

Hoffa paused mid-motion, just as he was about to rip off Sylby's remaining arm.

"What do you mean?" Hoffa demanded.

"Oh," Sylby grinned, baring his teeth. "You can use the power gifted by the four founders to box with me—or you can save the world."

As he finished speaking, Sylby snapped his fingers with his only hand.

Snap.

It was as though a switch had been flipped. A rumbling noise began to echo around them, and sparks of fire appeared across the mirrored surface beneath their feet. Those sparks quickly grew into blazing flames, engulfing the entire expanse of the mirrored world.

Explosions erupted all around them. The railroad tracks shattered section by section, the statues of the four founders were consumed by flames, and White Island disintegrated into ash.

Hoffa's heart sank completely. He gripped Sylby tightly, pulling him close.

"What have you done!?" Hoffa demanded.

"Oh, nothing much," Sylby shrugged nonchalantly. "I just detonated ten thousand tons of TNT. You know, I've always been curious—can ancient magic withstand the power of modern technology?"

(End of Chapter)

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