Capítulo 512: Chapter 421: Slash Slash Slash Slash Slash Slash! (3k)

"Ha ha, it's me... who ignited it, you little peeping mouse?"

Voldemort's voice carried a cruel glee, and his crimson vertical pupils seemed to pierce through Harry's flesh and gaze directly at the boy's soul. "Your pathetic defenses are nothing more than a sheer veil to me, Potter. Just a tiny, tiny 'flame' can throw your emotions into turmoil, like a kettle about to explode..."

So... at the moment "Percy" grabbed him, the sudden and intense surge of emotions that almost burned away Harry's rationality wasn't his own. It was Voldemort at work behind the scenes—Harry's face turned deathly pale—

He had abandoned Occlumency himself, attempting to sneak another peek into Voldemort's soul through this means.

And this attempt became the string the opponent used to turn him into a puppet—

The humiliating sense of being controlled and the extreme shame made Harry tremble slightly. This mental anguish was even more piercing than physical coldness. "You... you..."

Suddenly, just at that moment—

"Put him down!!!"

A thunderous roar exploded from the darkness at an angle from them! Blue light burst forth, and a massive figure clad in heavy, black magical armor charged out like a roaring chariot, tearing through the thick fog shrouding this graveyard with a screech that accompanied the tearing air!

The deep blue magical patterns on the armor flashed with unprecedented brightness, the heavy boot armor shattering the ground beneath it, and the giant sword raised in hand carried a world-destroying might. Without any preamble or segment of threat, it was judgment—all at once, cleaving towards Barty Crouch Jr., who had just pushed Harry to the ground and was grinning ferociously.

Too fast! Too close! Cedric's sudden appearance caught everyone off guard!

Barty Crouch Jr., who had just revealed his true self before Harry, with his expression frozen in a mixture of wild joy and servile humility towards Voldemort, had no time to react. He only managed to turn his left eye before the same death-infused blue light of the great sword slammed onto his face.

"Thud!"

Thus came the muffled sound of flesh being cleaved open.

The giant sword sliced down unhindered, and Barty's sneer hadn't even turned into shock before it was permanently frozen.

Most of his body—from the left shoulder to the right waist—was brutally cleaved into two pieces by the terrifying blue light, his spine and organs forcefully blown open by the giant strength, exposed to the air. The thick, nauseating stench of blood filled the entire graveyard.

At this moment, time seemed to freeze.

Harry sat fallen on the ground, watching helplessly as the two halves of the corpse weakly flew to either side in the spray of blood fountains, an eye of light brown still futilely glanced around.

The boy could even see the blurred, still twitching, and squirming chunks of flesh at the severed point. The overwhelming visual impact and physiological response caused his stomach to contract violently, and he vomited directly.

Voldemort, the tumor parasitizing on Karkaroff's neck, seemed to convulse violently, the crimson vertical pupils abruptly constricting into a mass, reflecting incredulous rage and a hint of awe that even he refused to acknowledge.

"You damn still exist!"

Cedric's roar lacked any trace of the gentle demeanor of his usual self. He moved without pause, the blood-stained great sword emitting a shrill buzz as magic patterns flowed over it. His true target was never Barty Jr.—this bastard was merely an obstacle to be eliminated. The boy had one goal from beginning to end—

The black armor enveloped in deep blue magic patterns moved without hesitation. Heavy footsteps trod through Crouch's splattered blood and entrails, the massive sword's edge swept with the breeze of blood and flesh towards the stone platform, where the writhing source of desecration—Voldemort—lay in ambush!

At that moment, Cedric was like a dragon slayer knight from the Middle Ages, concentrating all his strength and will in that single strike.

The great sword rose high, the deep blue magic pattern's light flashed brighter than before, rivaling a physical flashbang in its intensity. He locked onto the still-throbbing tumor-like head and swung down with relentless force!

Simultaneously, the crimson vertical pupil on Voldemort's tumor burst into bright light. A thick, malevolent, death-mixed dark magic power barrier began to solidify before him!

However, the heavy sword that seemed destined to end everything in destruction never fell.

For it was not part of the script.

Just as Cedric's massive sword was about to strike the Iron Armor Spell—

A silver-gray arm, like a withered claw soaked in water for years, silently emerged from a more profound shadow behind Voldemort.

It was a Dementor's arm, and though no one had ever seen the face beneath the Dementor's hood, the black cloak following the appearance of the "arm" made this clear. On the arm was a layer of decaying skin that seemed ready to peel off at any moment, the tattered black cloak swaying gently as it moved.

It didn't attack but caught the great sword, then used a pale, withered finger to tap Cedric's chest—at the very heart of the black armor adorned with flashing deep blue magic patterns—ever so lightly.

The fingertip tapped the cold metal breastplate, making a faint sound—zz...

Then, the intricate "machinery" of magic seemed to have suddenly short-circuited!

The deep blue light on Cedric's chest, which was swirling wildly like Iron Man's arc reactor, went out the moment it was touched by that finger.

A moment ago, the magic pattern armor that shone brightly and granted Cedric strength now became the final, crushing weight on the camel's back.

Cedric tried to struggle, but the heavy, cold black armor had already reverted to its icy, lifeless state. Though the boy maintained a striking posture, the giant sword was even less than two centimeters away from the temporary Iron Armor Spell in front of Voldemort!

But, he could no longer swing it down.

Devoid of the magic patterns' support, the heavy magic metal armor instantly turned from a personal power amplifier into an immovable iron coffin, and more terrifyingly, the extinguished magic pattern light seemed to drain what little strength the boy had left.

His body suddenly stiffened, and he staggered to his knees.

"Ugh—"

A painful groan squeezed out with difficulty from under his helmet's visor, and after the magic patterns vanished, fear swept in like a tide.

Cedric felt as if countless needles pierced his body and started twisting, cold and bone-chilling. It was only then that the boy unbelievingly lowered his gaze to the extinguished magic pattern circuit on his chest.

Then, in less than a second of stagnation—

That withered Dementor's arm moved again, this time not lightly touching but lunging forward like an iron clamp, five fingers spread open, the pallid hand accurately clutching Cedric's throat. The emaciated arm burst out with strength completely disproportionate to its appearance, lifting Cedric into the air, armor and all, as easily as if he were a chick.

"Mm! Mmm..."

Cedric's throat was constricted, the asphyxiating pain jolted him awake, but he had already lost all power to move, the armor's weight pressing him down mercilessly. He attempted to struggle, but the enclosing iron armor only emitted futile metallic friction noises.

On his chest, the deep blue magic pattern tried to reignite, only to flicker weakly like a dying firefly in the armor's crevice—

Beside him, Harry's mind was blank, eyes bulging wide in shock—

It all happened too fast, from Cedric striking down Barty like a god descending to redirecting his target to Voldemort, to the Dementor's appearance, the magic pattern's extinguishing, and the boy's throat being clutched... the entire process occurred almost in a blink.

Harry hadn't even fully processed the shock of Voldemort revealing his emotional manipulation, nor the bloody impact from Cedric cutting Barty down.

"Ce… no…" the boy's throat felt blocked, only able to emit a hoarse breath.

Then, he witnessed an even more terrifying sight—

The Dementor clutching Cedric's throat was slowly, solemnly—pulling back its massive, tattered black hood, which seemed at first glance to contain nothing, but upon closer inspection revealed a vague, silver-grey face.

Next, an indescribable sound, not "heard" physically, arose on everyone's soul level—

A deep, agonized, despairing hollow sucking noise, not a physical sound, but directly acting on the soul, extracting all that was good and all emotions.

That was, the Dementor's Kiss.

"Buzz—"

Cedric's ironclad body, with its completely extinguished deep blue magic patterns, as if re-ignited by this despairing suction, suddenly burst with a final, dazzling glimmer.

Through helmet slits, the pair of eyes hidden in darkness, belonging to Cedric, seemed to flash with an extremely faint yet distinctly clear... ghostly blue light, existing for just a moment, like a candle in the wind, struggling fervently before being snuffed out.

In the instant that light shone—

Cedric's body, which wanted to struggle fiercely and escape the iron grip on his throat, abruptly froze.

All motions seized, the heavy armor no longer made any noise.

Then, the Dementor's fingers released, and the armor fell to the ground with a dull thud.

The armor hit the ground...

And also landed heavily on Harry's heart.

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