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GLH 8
🕑 Added 2024-09-04 19:37:03 +0000 UTCDisclaimer : This is a story based on Harry Potter, Marvel, DC and Image comics characters and all recognizable characters, plots belong to Jk Rowling,Marvel, DC and Image comics. I claim no ownership to it.
Chapter 8 : Viltrum War II
Gamora
She should have known that something like this would happen when there was no space defense on such an advanced planet. At the beginning, it seemed like sheer stupidity for this race to ignore the necessity of planetary shields or defenses. Her frustration grew as she observed only 15,000 Viltrumites standing on the plains outside the city without any visible shields or armor, their white robes shining so brightly that they made her eyes ache. There was no formation, just a vast spread across hundreds of miles.
The Chitauri flew overhead, firing their laser guns, but the Viltrumites didn’t even flinch. The lasers hit their bodies as if they couldn’t feel a thing. Gamora noticed Nebula gaping in disbelief at the durability of this race. Their father, Thanos, had modified the guns himself to increase their power, considering the toughness of various species. While she understood that exceptional individuals existed in every race, like Thanos himself, for an entire species to be so far above the standard, and for no one outside to know about them till now, was deeply concerning.
Gamora sighed and ordered into the comms, "Captain, retreat and fire on the city. Ignore the army on the land. I will rain fire from the ships."
There were two ships with her, each half the size of a small moon, carrying 10 million wardogs equipped with shields strong enough to withstand Supergiant’s punches. Gamora and the outriders were on another, smaller ship, easily captained by their crew.
"Captains, rain fire on that field. Their arrogance will be their undoing," Gamora commanded.
The laser fire from the ships was designed to annihilate armies. Each laser beam was almost 1,000 degrees Celsius, and the most devastating aspect was the speed of fire, raining down 100,000 lasers per minute. Gamora ordered the firing to continue non-stop until she commanded it to stop.
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As the ring predicted, the Chitauri laser fire had no effect on their bodies, only helping their smart atoms adapt to the abrupt increase in temperature. Nolan knew that, despite their heat resistance, even they couldn’t survive constant exposure to a sun’s surface. According to the ring, plasma at only 300 degrees Celsius was hot enough to kill most life forms in the universe, so it would take hundreds of such shots to even burn them. Just as he had informed the Grand Regent that this would be training and a method to cool their tempers.
Nolan watched as the Chitauri were recalled and saw the three master ships preparing their guns to fire.
"Warning!! Incoming fire from ship. Hot enough to damage Viltrumite bodies through continuous fire." The Ring informed him.
Nolan’s eyes widened in surprise. Even cannon fire wasn’t something that usually concerned them. Clearly, this universe had different rules.
"Viltrumites," Nolan’s voice echoed around the battlefield and through the comms. "Incoming plasma fire from ships. Do not tank it. Dodge and use your speed to move. Protect your vital areas."
The initial barrage was relentless. Plasma fire streaked through the air, each bolt leaving trails of superheated air in its wake. The Viltrumites moved with incredible speed, dodging many of the incoming shots. When they couldn't dodge, they protected their heads and hearts with their hands, their bodies absorbing the impact. Some grabbed massive rocks from the ground, hurling them with titanic force at the master ships, using the terrain to their advantage. But through continuous fire, the rocks never reached the ships, as the plasma fire broke them down. Since they were spread across miles, they could dodge and move faster without hitting each other.
Despite their resilience, the constant bombardment began to take its toll. The size of the ships and the volume of fire allowed them to cover the entire area where the Viltrumites were spread. Small burns and nosebleeds became common as they were struck repeatedly. Ten of their number fell, unlucky victims of plasma shots that pierced their hearts. Nolan, who had tanked many of the shots due to higher resistance, saw the deaths and felt a rage begin to build in his heart. He saw the superheated air and the ground turn to slag under the heat. He understood they would be cooked alive by the increasing temperature if not for the constant hurricane-level airflow created by their movements, dispersing the intense heat and preventing them from being cooked alive.
Gamora watched the scene unfold from the command center of the lead Chitauri ship, her face a mask of grim determination. She saw the Viltrumites' tenacity and realized that their mere survival under such fire was a testament to their power.
Nolan's eyes blazed with fury as he surveyed the battlefield. He knew that even they couldn't withstand the bombardment indefinitely. With a roar, he issued a new order.
"Run beyond the shadow of the ships and get out of the firing range! Turn back, run, jump, and bring the ships down."
The Viltrumites, understanding his plan instantly, sprinted at supersonic speeds. In moments, they were out of range of the Chitauri ships. Nolan didn't waste a second. He turned back, his muscles coiling like steel springs, and leaped. The ground shattered under the force of his takeoff as he soared towards the nearest warship, his body a blur.
The other Viltrumites followed Nolan's lead, leaping high into the sky. For Gamora, it seemed as if they were flying. As they closed in on the ships, they unleashed their full power. Nolan's fist collided with the ship's transparent energy shield with a resounding crash. The shield, designed to repel almost any attack, flickered and dimmed. A single punch had reduced its power by 3%.
Gamora's eyes widened in shock. "Impossible," she whispered. She watched as the other Viltrumites mimicked Nolan's strategy, jumping high and striking the ships with devastating force. Fortunately for her, other than the apparent commander, no other individual’s punches were powerful enough to cause significant damage to the shields.
Gamora saw the Viltrumites fall to the ground, cratering the landing point even while the rain of fire stopped due to the automatic activation of the shields. Knowing the danger, Gamora unleashed the Leviathans and Chitauri again.
The Leviathans emerged from space, where they had been waiting, and many Viltrumites hit them as they came around for a second volley. The armor of the Leviathans dented under the punches, and many Chitauri soldiers were thrown off by the sheer shockwave generated. The Chitauri ships also didn’t fare better, as Viltrumite bodies destroyed any in their path.
Gamora understood that flying opponents were nothing against these warriors, so she ordered the Chitauri to retreat higher and take potshots. Her next order was to cease the rain of fire and start regular fire—aimed shots by guns and cannons.
As the Viltrumites concentrated on dodging the cannon fire, she ordered three battalions of wardogs to descend. A single battalion consisted of one million wardogs, and she wanted to overwhelm these warriors. By the speed and strength their computers calculated, it would take almost their full number of wardogs to kill these Viltrumites.
Nolan saw three smaller ships coming down and landing. The bridge opened, and monstrous beings of untold number descended. He saw a fellow warrior, who was concentrating on the last of the laser fire, being surprised and falling down, with wardogs running over and biting and clawing him.
He scoffed, knowing that nothing would happen, and he was proven correct in seconds. The Viltrumite stood rapidly, and every wardog surrounding his body flew kilometers away to their deaths. He snarled and just punched the first one in front of him. The wardog was obliterated by the power as metal pieces flew backward, killing several others, and the airwave created by the punch picked hundreds and threw them to their deaths.
Gamora saw the devastation of a single punch, and the close-up camera made the bloodthirsty grin of the Viltrumite clear. This was nothing but a preliminary bloodbath to the oceans that would flow later.
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It had been 24 hours since the attack began, and Gamora looked at the despairing infographic showing the numbers: 7 million wardogs were dead for only 5 Viltrumites who had been injured by the rain of fire, repeatedly attacked in the same spot by countless wardogs. The cumulative damage made it possible for them to die, or they were foolish enough to ignore the battlefield and not switch with the other 15,000 warriors hidden throughout the planet.
For once, Nebula was afraid of the punishment she would face at the hands of Thanos for this defeat.
"Sister, it seems that we will lose here. Their strength is enormous, and their speed is something only a few beings can match. This species is clearly more dangerous than regular Asgardians and other creatures of the Nine Realms. Let's retreat and save the remaining wardogs. Father will at least be less wrathful at this point compared to the complete loss of wardogs."
"Daughters, it seems your arrogance has cost us much." Even through the hologram, Thanos’s voice sent chills down their spines.
"Father, it seems this species is too powerful for our soldiers. They have better physical prowess than Asgardian soldiers," Gamora said with utmost respect.
Thanos looked at his daughters in disappointment. "It seems to me you have many things yet to learn about how to destroy the fighting spirit of enemies."
"Father?" Gamora asked with hesitation and fear.
"Release every wardog. Let them tire the Viltrumites some more. When their numbers drop below one million, rain fire on their capital. Take your flagship and retreat to space immediately before that. Use the wardog ships only to attack using rain fire, and finally, charge the Destroyer cannons. Fire as long as the energy holds, then self-destruct the ship."
"Father!" Gamora gasped. "What about the resources you mentioned in the beginning?"
Thanos looked even more disappointed. "The most valuable resource is these Viltrumites, not their planet now. If they venture outside alone, we could capture them and learn the secrets of their powers to improve our own wardogs and the Chitauri."
Gamora and Nebula nodded in understanding.
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It had been a good day for the Viltrumite Empire. Even after five years, there were still weaklings who died in this assault, but overall, it was good for the empire. The rest of them, even the Grand Regent, had increased their powers through this extensive workout. Nolan looked on as hundreds of wardogs died with a single punch, feeling their claws and teeth all over his body. Usually, their strength was too low to ever feel, but continuous exposure to the lasers and bites from these beasts had made his body aware of itself. He had not taken a single moment of rest, unlike others who recuperated over time. There was something in his blood that couldn’t rest until he personally vanquished this threat to their race. He had personally searched for the green-coloured alien they saw in the holo, but she never once appeared on the battlefield.
Nolan saw Anissa, Thragg, and Conquest all killing wardogs with grins and signs of pleasure on their faces. For some reason, their bloodthirsty pleasure made him feel unease which he had never felt in his thousands of years of service. He quickly dismissed that line of thought as he groaned when a foolish beast tried to claw his eyes, only to break its claws, irritating his eyes with blood and grime. Irritated beyond anything, Nolan, who was covered by wardogs for at least a mile in front of him, leaned almost parallel to ground and moved forward so fast that the sound barrier broke again and again, all the while wardogs flew away, and blood and gore splattered outward like a sea parting around rocks. He actually flew forward, confident that no cameras of the enemy would see his body clearly as it was buried by the wardogs at that moment.
After the slaughter of hundreds of thousands by that single move, Nolan looked around and he came to the realization that the battle was coming to an end.
"Alert! Alert! The command ship has retreated towards space, and there is a buildup of energy in the other two ships. Self-destruct is activated. Energy levels are similar to continent and planet-buster bombs." The insistent warning rang from his Ring.
Nolan’s eyes widened for a second. He knew the majority of their soldiers would not survive a direct attack of such caliber, and the only method was to flee, but a Viltrumite never runs from a battle.
"Regent!" he yelled into the comms. "The main ship has retreated towards space, and the other two ships are building up a planet-buster attack and self-destruct."
Thragg snarled upon hearing that they intended to destroy their home.
"Training is over!" Thragg yelled. "Nolan, Conquest, Kregg, come with me. We will fly through their ships and destroy those power sources. We are the only ones who will be fast enough to survive such an explosion. Drag the ships back to space or the upper atmosphere with their shields, then break them. Kregg, you are with me on the right ship. Nolan, Conquest, on the other one. Viltrumites, it is time. Finish every one of these filthy bugs."
Thragg finished the order and flew upwards, breaking the sound barrier a hundred times before even reaching the descending ship, ignoring any shots fired at him. Thragg hit the ship's shield, and the momentum he had built up caused the engine to stall and the ship to stop mid-air. For a moment, it moved upwards before stopping and started overpowering Thragg's upward push. At that moment, Kregg reached the other side, and their combined strength started making it move upwards.
Gamora gaped at the strength of the Viltrumite leaders and their ability to fly unaided, which they had not used until now.
"Interesting, very interesting," Thanos’s chilling voice echoed. "They can fly and survive in space. This species is blessed with abilities I would like to incorporate into my children and wardogs."
"Gamora, they will reach the upper atmosphere and space within minutes. Do not let them reach space. Fire the planet-buster as it is; we have no time to power it up fully. They will head towards the engine or power source to destroy the ship. Destroy it when they are near. Not all four of them will be able to escape the blast range. Try to pick up one of their bodies if they get blasted upwards."
"Yes, Father," Gamora replied obediently.
All four of them were surprised for a moment as the shield they were pushing vanished, and they saw a laser shot made from the center of the ship towards their home from their side of the eye as all four of them broke through the ship's various levels before they could stop their upwards flight.
Their experience allowed them to know that the ship would self-destruct shortly, and they would have only moments to find the power source or engine to destroy them, disconnect them, or throw them into space. All four of them ignored the multitudes of wardogs and Chitauri attacking them and started moving. The ship's structure began shaking as sonic booms echoed from their increasing speed in the search for their target.
Thragg reached the power source first, his eyes widening at the realization of the trap. Kregg also entered the room from another direction, breaking through the walls. The moment Thragg entered the room, he saw the power source activating, and a white blast began making its way toward him. Thragg saw Kregg’s eyes widen in panic, knowing that Kregg was not fast enough to outrun the blast of such magnitude in his face, even when Kregg reacted within less than a second flying backward, eyes widened in panic, both hands formed into fists to punch through anything in his way.
Thragg didn’t hesitate for a moment, even before Kregg moved a meter away, his body was over Kregg. Thragg's suit was destroyed in seconds as he passed through the blast to reach Kregg, his body covering Kregg before the blast reached him. Thragg grabbed onto Kregg’s hands and accelerated, increasing Kregg’s speed and outrunning the blast's major power. They were almost 25 miles away before the blast caught up to them and enveloped them making them grit their teeths as hotness started to cook their flesh, but it was survivable at that distance.
One minute ago.
On the other ship, it was Conquest who reached the power source first. His speed, combined with his zeal, made him punch the source even before he saw the first spark of the world-ending blast. The first thing that clued him in to something being wrong was the immense numbness he felt as his right fist vanished in an instant, and entire flesh towards his elbow disappeared while the bone blackened.
Even before the blast reached his elbow he understood and he moved upwards breaking every wall in his way. Unfortunately he was not fast enough and he could only breach the upper side of the ship when the blast engulfed him and he lost consciousness as he was flung towards the mother ship in space.
The only warning Nolan got was his ring activating automatically and a green light enveloping him as the blast reached him. He moved sideways to escape, but even before he could get halfway, the green around his body was overpowered, and seconds later, his own durability was overwhelmed as his flesh started heating up. He was suffering from third-degree burns over his entire body when he finally escaped the blast. Nolan was thankful for the heat resistance they had gained in the last few days from all the laser fire, as he was sure he would have suffered more damage if not for that.
"Ring, scan for others."
"Scanning… scanning… All three of them are alive. Thragg and Kregg are on the other side of the planet, and Conquest is in space inside the enemy mother ship. Conquest and the ship are moving away, and now lost as they enter hyperspace."
Nolan cursed at the implication of one of them being captured alive by the Mad Titan, who is famous for his bioengineering of these beasts and himself to increase power.
Minutes ago..
"This is something else," Nebula said as the sensors and cameras zoomed in on the escaping Viltrumites from their trap. "They survived blasts capable of obliterating planets."
"No, daughter, as always, you are in the wrong," Thanos said with a sadistic grin at the image of Conquest flying towards space. "They were fast enough to fly away from the blast and durable enough to only suffer from being cooked alive by the heat. The shockwave did little to no damage."
"Gamora, fire on the old man in space. He is near his limits, and his stupidity in punching the energy source has cost him his fist, and maybe his entire arm up to the elbow by the looks of it. Shoot him down and capture him."
Gamora readied the cannons, increasing their power beyond what was used on the planet in the first phase of the plan, and shot at Conquest.
Conquest, who was only worried about the blast, didn’t see the laser coming. Ten instant holes appeared in his body, exposing bones. The kinetic force caused him to slow down, and the blast caught up to him, enveloping him in light and pain.
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1999
London
Harry Potter.
Venturing into the Chamber of Secrets without a wand was a fool's errand. Harry knew that better than anyone. The memory of facing the basilisk many times was still etched in his mind, a reminder of how close he had come to death at that time. This time, however, things were different. He was mentally older, wiser, and stronger than ever before.
The decision was made quickly: before stepping into the Chamber again, he needed to secure his wand. And there was only one place he could trust to provide him with the tool that had served him so well across several lives—Ollivanders.
Three days before his planned return to Hogwarts, Harry found himself in the familiar, narrow streets of Diagon Alley. The bustling witches and wizards around him felt strangely distant as he approached the small, dusty shop where he had first acquired his wand countless times. The sign above the door, "Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C.," swayed slightly in the breeze. As Harry pushed open the door, a soft chime echoed within the shop.
The shop was exactly as he remembered it—a narrow space filled with shelves that reached up to the ceiling, each crammed with long, narrow boxes. The air was thick with the scent of ancient wood and dust, a scent that carried memories of a time when magic was still new and exciting to him.
"Ah, Mr. Potter," came a soft, rasping voice from the shadows. Garrick Ollivander emerged from behind a stack of wand boxes, his pale eyes gleaming with the same mysterious light Harry had seen in them so many times before. "I had not been expecting you for another year."
Harry wasn't surprised. Ollivander had always seemed to know more than he let on, his understanding of the magical world far deeper than most. "I need my wand," Harry said simply, his voice steady.
Ollivander nodded slowly, his gaze never leaving Harry's face. "Of course, of course. The wand chooses the wizard, as you know well. But I fear that you must wait one more year to acquire a wand. I cannot sell one without your guardian’s approval, which I assume you don’t have."
Harry grimaced, and that was all the answer Ollivander needed. "I have another proposal for you. You will ignore the law and sell me the wand, and I will provide you with some ingredients you could experiment with."
Ollivander’s eyes gleamed with curiosity. "What ingredients would that be?"
Harry hesitated, knowing he had to disclose his knowledge of the basilisk. "How about a thousand-year-old basilisk’s fang and skin?"
Ollivander’s eyes widened for a second, but he schooled his expression so quickly that Harry might have thought he imagined it if not for his psychic abilities sensing Ollivander's surprise.
"I will not ask for proof or anything, as I can see with my own eyes that you are not an ordinary 10-year-old wizard. Three fangs and 20 meters of skin, and we have an agreement."
Harry grimaced for a moment but agreed, knowing that haggling for a wand was just not done.
"Very well," Harry agreed. "Let’s not waste time. I can feel a connection to many wands with phoenix feather cores and yew wands, but the most powerful connection is with that one."
Harry pointed towards where the holly and Fawkes feather wand is —the brother wand to Voldemort’s.
Ollivander looked more intrigued than ever but brought the requested wand. Harry reached out and took the wand in his hand. The moment his fingers closed around the wood, he felt a surge of warmth rush through him, a sensation so powerful it almost made him gasp. The wand hummed with energy, as if it were alive and Harry was happy that his most trusted and used companion of countless lives was not because of the horcrux in his head, but because of himself.
"Thank you," Harry said, his voice thick with emotion.
"Thank you," Harry said, his voice thick with emotion.
Ollivander inclined his head slightly. "Remember our deal, Mr. Potter. This wand will serve you well. I somehow feel that you know the history of that wand and its brother. The moment you entered, I knew we could expect great things from you, but now I think whatever you do will be legendary. Let me pray to Lady Magic that it is on the side of good and not evil, as Lord Voldemort chose."
Harry didn’t reply, just shrugged indifferently and left the shop. The Chamber of Secrets awaited him, and with it, the basilisk.
The days following his visit to Ollivanders were spent in a haze of preparation and rest. Harry knew he had to be at his best when he entered the Chamber, and that meant not only being physically prepared but mentally as well. He spent hours meditating, honing his magical senses, and practicing with his new wand.
With a deep breath, he closed his eyes, focused on his destination, and Disapparated. The world around him twisted and blurred, and when he opened his eyes again, he was standing at the edge of the Forbidden Forest.
The dense trees loomed above him, their branches swaying gently in the wind. The air was cool and filled with the scent of earth and leaves. Harry took a moment to steady himself before he began walking towards Honeydukes, the sweet shop in Hogsmeade that hid a secret entrance to Hogwarts.
The entrance to Honeydukes was just as he remembered it, hidden behind a stack of crates in the cellar. With a quick flick of his wand, Harry revealed the passageway that led into Hogwarts. He stepped inside, the walls of the tunnel closing in around him as he descended into the darkness.
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"Open," he hissed, and the sink in the second-floor bathroom opened.
He jumped in and used his telekinesis to hold himself steady as he bounced off the walls of the tunnel due to lack of practice. He sighed in relief as he flew downwards, feeling the pressure around him lift. Harry used his various senses to analyze the pressure, leading to a perplexing answer—the pressure he felt from the moment he stepped into the castle proper wasn’t the magic of the wards, but the castle itself. It identified him as an intruder, even when he was using the magic of the cloak, just a step below the actual Invisibility Cloak, all the while his own telepathy created a Notice-Me-Not effect along with a Confundus-like effect. Hogwarts, or the magic of the castle, observed him, and he sensed confusion and curiosity as it could see he was only 10 and not supposed to be there. The moment he entered the tunnel, the pressure eased, as if he was a lost cause, but still, he could feel a glimmer of interest and magic watching him.
He reached the bottom and saw a huge amount of waste, deciding to fly until he reached the door to the main chamber. After another round of Parseltongue, the tunnel opened up into a vast, dimly lit chamber. The stone walls were slick with moisture, and the air was thick with the scent of decay. Harry's breath caught in his throat as he stepped into the room, his wand held tightly in his hand.
But it wasn’t the state of the Chamber that made Harry's blood run cold—it was the presence he could feel in the air, a dark and malevolent force that seemed to be waiting for him.
The basilisk.
He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, reaching out with his mind to the serpent. He had to try to communicate with it, to calm it before things escalated. He focused on Parseltongue, the words flowing from his lips in a soothing tone.
"Be still," Harry whispered, his voice echoing in the chamber. "I mean you no harm."
For a moment, there was silence. Then, from the shadows, came a low, menacing hiss. The basilisk's voice was filled with fury—a fury that Harry could feel deep in his bones.
The serpent hissed back, but there were no intelligible words, just gibberish. Harry understood that the basilisk had lost its mind because of killing a Hogwarts student, even under the control of Tom Riddle, then the Heir of Slytherin. It had gone against its fundamental purpose, and the magic had punished it.
The basilisk surged forward from the shadows, its massive form coiling around the chamber like a living nightmare. Its yellow eyes glowed with a terrifying light, a death sentence for anyone other than Harry. Harry was already reinforcing his body with magic to withstand the approaching death. The basilisk’s eyes worked by two methods of attack: a Legilimency attack that destroyed the mind and a petrifying wave of magic that stopped magic itself, making the body stop functioning. His mind and Occlumency skills, honed by millennia of practice and stolen techniques, made him immune to the first attack. The second wave of attack was one he could deflect by making his magic durable enough to withstand the gaze. Only a magical lord who has magic a mere thought away could do what he has done to withstand the gaze of the basilisk.
He succeeded, and the basilisk hissed in anger as its prey did not fall dead as usual. It moved fast—so fast that it was a blur—and its fangs, almost as tall as Harry, approached him to devour him entirely. Harry waved his wand, and a thick rubber sheet was conjured, enveloping both eyes of the basilisk. Even though it was not entirely effective, defending against the magical attack while fighting the basilisk was a huge drain on his powers. Harry thanked his lucky stars that he was born as the Lord of Magic in this life. It would have been much harder if he weren’t, making his journey more difficult and forcing him to change his plans entirely.
The blur was almost on him when he raised his hand, and a telekinetic force impacted the basilisk, deflecting its approaching head. Harry cursed as he had to throw himself with his magic to another side to avoid the basilisk, as his power almost failed to deflect the head.
Harry grimaced as he realized he had nearly used his entire telekinetic might, but the force of the basilisk was far more than its size—80 feet long and 5 feet thick—suggested. He understood that magic itself was empowering the basilisk beyond its already powerful physique.
Harry decided to apply his thought process Fight Mode to finish it quickly.
Target: kill the basilisk
Analysing memories bank... Fought against basilisks countless times.Survival due to sheer dumb luck and Fawkes: 99% of times.
Harry felt shame at his old self for always trying to fight a basilisk and always needing Fawkes’s help.
Danger to self: Basilsik’s gaze neutralised, venom: effective on self as healing factor is almost non-existent. Suggestion: avoid at all costs. Physical attack: neutral- will survive if telekinetic and magical empowerment is used fully, but dodging is better.
Attack : use telekinesis to slow down basilik and attack with magic. Start from cutting curse to killing curse.
Harry sighed as he confirmed the attack plan.
Harry watched in amazement as his left hand raised without conscious control, using his telekinetic and magical might to slow the basilisk. It slowed tremendously. His right hand raised and began firing spells. It started with normal Diffindo and cutting curses and ended with Sectumsempra. All the while, he moved around the chamber, dodging any attempts by the basilisk to physically crush him.
Even Sectumsempra, powerful enough to cause a slight scratch, did little more than that. The dark magic flowed, and spells Harry didn’t even consciously remember leapt from his wand with point casting, his own mind and experience of casting these spells countless times allowing him to cast spells without any wand movements. The spells landed on the basilisk with the speed similar to gunshots from a semi-automatic, but there was no significant result. Any damage was negligible, and later he could see there were several layers of scales beneath the damaged ones. He could feel magic trying to weave into the basilisk’s body, but nothing was able to overcome the creature’s own inherent magic.
He ended the round with a Killing Curse.
As expected, even that only stunned the basilisk for several seconds before it overcame the effects of the curse. The magic of the Killing Curse was lesser than the basilisk’s own magic.
Primary Attack failed. Starting Esosteric magical attacks.
Fiendfyre.
Hell decended on earth and fire poured out of nothingness. It was demonic and with ahunger to consume anything even air and magic. It turned to thestrala nd tried to attack himself but flrx of will careened it back to basilik. The fire hit basilisk head on and started eating through its scales after couple of seconds of resistance.
The basilisk withdrew in pain, the rubber sheet reduced to ash by the fire, the conjuration losing its form to the magic-consuming flames. The basilisk opened its eyes and looked at the approaching fire. To Harry’s immense surprise, it began to petrify the flames. Knowing this plan had failed, Harry relinquished control, causing the fire to flare up instantly, but the basilisk was faster, successfully petrifying the fire into statues.
Tertiary Plan: Use the tried and tested method of Gryffindor’s sword.
Harry grimaced at that and called out, "Fawkes, now would be a good time to have the Sorting Hat with me."
The bird's song filled the chamber, its notes clear and pure, cutting through the darkness like a blade. The basilisk recoiled, its rage momentarily overshadowed by confusion.
A bright orange flame appeared in the air, and the baggy old hat fell onto his head.
He could feel the hat’s mind trying to enter his, and Harry indulged it, providing memories that would make him seem like the old, naive Harry, but from the future.
"You called for the sword, and Hogwarts has delivered. Here is the sword," the hat said, releasing it inside the hat, trying to drop the hilt as always on Harry’s head.
Anticipating this, Harry grabbed the sword immediately with telekinesis. It was a beautiful weapon, and he could feel many enchantments, while the goblin steel hungered for more power. He floated the sword out and stabbed the basilisk in its face. The goblin steel clanged as it met its match, unable to pierce the scales even with Harry’s telekinetic might.
Harry immediately understood that the original method of stabbing it inside the mouth to the brain was necessary. The basilisk lunged, and he dodged. He cast another Killing Curse, stunning the creature for several seconds longer than before.
Harry yelled in strain as he used his entire telekinetic might to hold the basilisk down and used it to pry open its mouth. He couldn’t use his magic or telekinesis to stab because it was entirely focused on holding and keeping the basilisk’s mouth open.
He looked at Fawkes in inquiry.
Fawkes trilled softly, assuring him.
Harry took hold of the sword with both hands and stabbed it into the roof of the basilisk’s mouth. A putrid smell and sound hit his body as the creature’s fang pierced his left hand near the middle. He felt his combat mode deactivate with a mission accomplished and Body Scan started fighting rapidly. It immediately used magic to stop the tainted blood from spreading from the wound in his hand to other areas, but the basilisk venom was consuming his very magic, trying to destroy him. But just as he felt himself slipping away, a soft, warm light filled the chamber. Fawkes had landed beside him, the phoenix's gentle eyes full of concern as it bent its head and let its tears fall onto Harry's wound.
The effect was immediate. The venom's burning pain began to subside as the phoenix tears worked their magic, neutralising the poison in his system. Harry could feel his strength returning, the darkness lifting as his body healed.
But Fawkes did more than just heal the wound. The phoenix's tears had a special property, one that Harry had only recently begun to understand. They not only healed physical wounds but also enhanced the body's natural defenses against disease and poisons.
As the last of the venom was neutralized, Harry could feel his body's immune system reacting, growing stronger. The phoenix tears and the venom had triggered a response within him, his magic already attuned to healing itself more than anything already working to bolster his defenses against future threats of poisons and harmful substances.
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Authors Note: Looking forward to comments!!!
First war scene and fight scene in same chapter!!! GLH is a fic in which there will be many more to come!!!
