Faced with these limitations, Alex had pivoted, designing the sphere as an advanced defensive system. It couldn’t attack, but it could intercept and nullify incoming spells with remarkable efficiency. Crafted from premium materials, including an ounce of Ulim steel, the Runesguard Sphere could withstand the Killing Curse and absorb magical energy to reinforce its defensive shields.
As Alex’s talismans and Spirit-Binding Snake continued to wreak havoc among the werewolves, the werewolf wizard grew increasingly desperate. He roared commands to his remaining pack, summoning them to regroup and charge together.
Alex saw the werewolves gathering, their snarls growing louder as their bloodlust intensified. With a flick of his wand, he adjusted the Tempest Orb’ formation, increasing their rotational speed. The arcs of electricity crackling between the spheres grew tighter and more erratic, creating a deadly web of current. But the werewolves, driven by the madness induced by the Dragon’s Fury Elixir, pressed on. The electricity from the circuit stunned and slowed them but couldn’t stop them entirely. One werewolf managed to push through, its muscles bulging grotesquely as it charged at Alex.
“Sectumsempra!” Alex’s slashing spell was dodged effortlessly by the enhanced werewolf, its reflexes far sharper than before. Another werewolf, though hit by the spell, tensed its muscles, halting the blade mid-cut and preventing the wound from deepening.
Alex had tested the durability of his Runesguard Sphere before. It could handle the breaking of three layers of Protego and still recharge one layer using its energy-absorbing runes. On top of that, it autonomously absorbed ambient magic to maintain its defenses.
With the sphere taking care of the werewolf wizard’s relentless attacks, Alex focused on eliminating the remaining werewolves. Initially, there were 11 werewolves, including the wizard, but four had already been eliminated, and one was incapacitated by the Spirit-Binding Snake. This left five werewolves, all blinded and disoriented by Alex’s talismans.
Two of the werewolves, driven by sheer determination, began advancing toward Alex, guided by their sense of smell. Their claws swiped aimlessly in front of them as they stumbled forward, refusing to retreat. Alex knew ordinary spells wouldn’t be enough to deal with them now. Even Sectumsempra, while effective at creating unhealable wounds, couldn’t deliver a swift kill against their heightened physical resilience. He needed something stronger—something decisive.
As Alex prepared, the elder centaur, still leaning heavily on his spear, felt an ominous shift in the air. A suffocating wave of magic emanated from the young wizard, pressing down like an immense weight. It was unlike anything the elder had felt before. The magic carried a pale, desolate energy, suffused with the crackling intensity of a storm. His chest felt heavy, his breath shallow.
Alex’s wand. began glowing with silver-white electric arcs that spread from its tip to his arm, then over his entire body. His hair stood on end, crackling with electricity. Sparks danced between the strands, illuminating his sharp, determined features. Even his pupils seemed to glow with a silver hue, swirling like the eye of a storm.
The werewolf wizard, standing some 20 meters away, sensed the mounting danger and felt a chill crawl down his spine. His instincts screamed at him to run. Desperately, he cast a Killing Curse at Alex. Avada Kedavra! But the Runesguard Sphere intercepted the green bolt mid-air, transforming into a metal shield that absorbed the deadly curse effortlessly. The sphere hovered back into place, its surface unmarred, continuing to guard Alex like a silent sentinel.
The werewolf wizard cursed under his breath, his unease growing. He instinctively took a few steps back, his sixth sense urging him to flee before it was too late.
Meanwhile, Alex finished charging his spell. His wand pulsed with compressed energy, the air around him crackling audibly. The werewolf wizard didn’t wait for the inevitable. With a frantic flick of his wand, he Disapparated, vanishing into the darkness. The remaining werewolves weren’t as fortunate. “Scissura Astralis!”
Five thunderous cracks echoed across the Forbidden Forest, each louder than the last. The sound wasn’t just loud—it was overwhelming, reverberating through the trees and silencing every creature within a several-kilometer radius. Each flash of light was blindingly bright, as though the sun itself had descended for a brief moment. The elder centaur, who had been watching Alex intently, found himself momentarily blinded. The flashes burned into his vision, leaving him reeling. ‘What kind of magic is this?’
When his sight returned, he saw Alex drenched in sweat, his chest heaving as he gulped down a potion. The young wizard looked utterly drained, his exhaustion palpable. The five werewolves that had stood moments before were gone. In their place were blackened, charred figures that resembled statues of ash. A gust of wind swept through the clearing, reducing them to fine dust that scattered into the air.
The elder centaur and his surviving kin stared in stunned silence. The sheer power and efficiency of Alex’s magic were unlike anything they had ever witnessed.
“Huff… Huff… I didn’t think compressing five consecutive strikes with Scissura Astralis would drain me this much,” Alex muttered to himself, wiping sweat from his brow. The spell had nearly exhausted his reserves. If the werewolf wizard hadn’t fled, Alex might not have had enough magic left to defend himself.
The elder centaur finally found his voice. “That… was no ordinary magic. Who are you, young wizard?”
Alex gave him a tired but confident smirk. “Just a passing Wizard.” Scissura Astralis was a spell Alex had been developing recently, inspired by his study of the Thundris Tempest rune. He had discovered that the rune’s lightning could be compressed almost infinitely, increasing both its voltage and power exponentially.
The technique was inspired by the natural abilities of the Thunderbird, a magical creature capable of absorbing and unleashing storms. Alex theorized that by compressing the rune’s magic, he could create an attack with unparalleled destructive power. The result was Scissura Astralis—a spell capable of concentrating nearly all of his magical energy into a single, devastating strike. It was raw, brutal, and almost overwhelming in its simplicity.
The output of magic power from Scissura Astralis was astonishingly fast—almost instantaneous from the moment Alex released the spell to the moment it struck. However, the sheer speed of output resulted in significant wastage. It was like using a cannon to kill a mosquito: the damage far exceeded what was necessary. The sound and light effects of the spell were equally overwhelming. Alex himself was momentarily disoriented, his eyes dazed from the blinding flashes, and his ears ringing from the explosive noise.
Controlling such compressed magic required immense precision, which relied heavily on sensitivity to magical flow. Most wizards couldn’t manage it, as focusing entirely on controlling the compressed magic left little mental capacity for regulating output. That was why Alex was now so drained. He had effectively discharged 90% of his magical reserves in a single second. If he wanted to master Scissura Astralis for regular use, he would need to improve his balance between compression and output.
After downing two bottles of restorative potion, Alex felt somewhat recovered. Surveying the battlefield, he saw the devastating effects of his spell. The five werewolves who had charged him were now nothing more than piles of ash scattered by the wind. Ten of the eleven enemies were down. The werewolf wizard had escaped with an Apparition, but Alex’s Spirit-Binding Snake had incapacitated the last werewolf. The creature now lay unconscious, its magical reserves depleted.