Boom!
The power of the alchemical bomb was immense. The explosion tore through the street, reducing two nearby houses to rubble.
Anna, who was at the market not far from the blast, felt the shockwave rattle her bones.
"Dana!"
She tried to Apparate at once—but realized, with growing panic, that the entire town of Livingston was sealed under an Anti-Apparition charm.
Dropping the bag of potatoes she had just bought, Anna sprinted toward home.
Two witches in green robes and white masks appeared at the roadside, wands raised.
"Stupefy!"
Twin scarlet bolts of light shot toward her.
Anna ducked one, flicked her wand to deflect the other, and retaliated without hesitation.
"Diffindo!"
The slicing curse cut through the air with deadly precision.
She recognized the masked attackers instantly—the green-robed witches of the Avar Coven. That name alone filled her with rage. The coven had hunted her family for generations, coveting the Merlin's Secret Treasure left by their ancestor. Because of them, she was the last surviving heir of the Emrys line.
There would be no mercy today.
Her curse hit home. The witch tried to raise a Shield Charm, but Anna's enhanced Cutting Curse shattered it like glass, flinging her several meters away.
The second witch continued her assault, firing more Stupefy spells while closing the distance.
Anna gritted her teeth. She had no time for this. Her infant son, Dana, was home alone. Though their house was protected by a Fidelius Charm, she knew even that could not endure endless bombardment. If the Avar Coven continued their alchemical attack, sooner or later, the Emrys Residence would be exposed.
"Avis!"
A flock of magical birds burst from her wand, diving at the masked witch and forcing her to retreat. In the brief window that followed, Anna turned and ran, her boots pounding the cobblestone streets.
But as she rounded the corner, four more green-robed witches appeared, blocking her path.
Anna's pulse quickened. So the Avar Coven truly meant to seize the Emrys Tapestry tonight.
And that meant Dana was in greater danger than ever.
The witch she'd left behind was catching up. Anna clenched her jaw. If it's a fight to the death they want—so be it.
"Whoosh!"
Suddenly, a tall man appeared before her. His presence was commanding, his eyes burning like twin yellow flames.
The witches froze under his gaze. Their bodies stiffened—then dropped lifelessly to the ground.
"Mr. Strange!" Anna gasped.
"How—how can you Apparate here?"
The man, Dana's godfather Mr. Strange, didn't answer immediately. He flicked his wrist, dispelling a Stupefy curse fired from behind Anna, then snapped his fingers. Two green bolts of light shot from his hand, striking down the witches in pursuit.
Only then did he speak, voice steady and cold.
"I've broken the Anti-Apparition array. Go—get home and protect little Dana."
Anna nodded, vanished with a pop, and reappeared outside Livingston No. 5.
In the brief seconds she had been gone, the battle had escalated. Green-robed witches poured from alleys and rooftops, encircling the area.
"This man must be an Emrys too!" one of them shouted. "His eyes—they're Basilisk eyes! Don't meet his gaze! Take him down—the master will be pleased!"
Inside the Emrys Residence, Anna burst through the door and raced upstairs.
Baby Dana was awake, staring wide-eyed through the crib rails at the flashes of light outside. He didn't cry—Merlin's blood ran strong in him—but his small hands gripped the blanket tightly.
Anna scooped him up, cradling him close.
"Don't be afraid, my little one. Sleep now."
Her hand glowed faintly as she cast a gentle charm. Dana's breathing slowed, and he drifted into magical slumber.
Holding her son protectively, Anna hurried to the basement. The explosions outside were moving eastward—directly toward them. She had to activate the Emrys defensive array.
It was the reason she had chosen this hidden home: a fortress wrapped in layers of protective magic, strong enough to hold out until the Aurors from the Ministry arrived.
Outside, at the edge of the street, stood a woman so striking that even amid chaos, her presence commanded attention.
Unlike the others, she wore no mask. Her long black robes shimmered faintly with runic embroidery, and her eyes glimmered with old, dangerous wisdom.
"A Fidelius Charm?" she murmured, smiling faintly. "No wonder I couldn't find it. A fine piece of magic… but there is no spell in this world that cannot be broken."
She lifted her hand. A black box appeared out of thin air. With a casual flick, she hurled it toward the ruins of Livingston No. 4.
"Boom!"
The blast ripped through the air. The shockwave tore her robe, but she didn't flinch.
Before her eyes, space shimmered and twisted. Between the shattered remains of Nos. 4 and 6, a house slowly revealed itself—its light-blue barrier shimmering like glass in sunlight.
"So there you are," she whispered. "Hidden behind a veil of secrets. The work of an Emrys, indeed."
Though her face looked no older than twenty, her voice carried the rasp of age and timelessness.
"It would take me time to dismantle such a defense… but why should I bother?"
She smiled again and drew forth a cluster of alchemical bombs—dozens of them.
From inside the protected house, Anna saw the scene through the bay window and felt a chill of dread. Could the barrier withstand that much power?
Then—
A green flash streaked across the night.
The witch's eyes widened. She dissolved into smoke and shifted several meters aside just as the beam struck the lamppost behind her, splitting it clean in two.
Dana descended from the sky, his wand blazing, unleashing a rapid-fire storm of curses.
"Emrys!" the witch gasped, narrowly dodging each spell. "It's you!"
Dana didn't answer, his attacks relentless, his eyes cold as death.
When he finally paused, he said one word: "Morgan."
The witch straightened and smiled faintly. "It's been a long time, Emrys."
Her greeting was met with a new barrage of magic.
The street erupted in explosions of color and sound as spells collided—green, red, silver. Morgan's shields shattered one after another. Within seconds, she was barely holding on.
At last she conjured a powerful shield—enough to buy a single heartbeat. But that heartbeat was all she needed.
She vanished.
Dana sneered. "Run, then. Let's see where you flee to."
He studied the air where she had disappeared, tracing the faint magical resonance left behind. Within seconds, he deciphered her Apparition signature and followed.
He reappeared in a damp underground passage. The smell of earth and decay filled the air. For a moment, Dana thought of the tunnels before the Chamber of Secrets.
A faint green light glowed from around a bend. He advanced cautiously, wand at the ready.
The tunnel opened into a stone chamber. In the center stood a crystal coffin.
And in front of it lay Morgan's body, motionless on the floor.
Then came a sound—dry and wheezing, like air escaping a broken bellows.
"Tempus sine vestigio, fatum est inordinatum…"
(Time without trace, fate disordered…)
The voice came from within the coffin.
Dana's heart tightened. Divination magic… again.
The coffin lid creaked open. Inside, wrapped in layers of ancient bandages, Morgan sat up slowly. Her pale eyes glowed faintly.
She had performed another Divination of Fate.
Dana cursed under his breath, but he remained calm. The last time she'd used this spell, it had almost killed her. Its effects on him would be minimal—he was sure of that.
But he quickly realized the truth: this time, the spell was not cast on him.
Morgan raised her head and spoke softly.
"Emrys. Your appearance here means I have failed. I didn't reach the Eternal Heart in time. So I will no longer trouble your bloodline. Let this end here."
Her tone held neither fear nor defiance—only resignation.
"And you," she continued, "should stop chasing me. We share no hatred. Yet you've forced me to use Divination twice… I hope our paths never cross again."
As she spoke, her body began to fade, dissolving into mist.
"Morgan!" Dana called, but she didn't answer.
Her outline grew fainter, until only the faint shimmer of her magic remained. Then even that vanished, and the chamber fell silent.
Dana approached the coffin and examined it carefully. Empty. No magical echo, no lingering trace—not even with his heightened senses could he find a thread of her presence.
He frowned.
So this time, Morgan had changed her own fate—the fate that said she would die at the hands of Merlin Emrys.
Perhaps she had escaped death itself.
Dana stood silently for a long time, the air around him heavy with the echoes of vanished magic.
Finally, he turned and disappeared, leaving behind only the cold glow of the crystal coffin.
Chapter 151 — End
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