Chapter 1178 376: God of Perfection (2)

Ian seized the chance to raise a Magic Barrier, cutting the mummy horde into smaller chunks. His fighting style carried a distinct Hogwarts flavor—none of that elaborate ritualistic posing Egyptians Wizards liked, just clean, efficient rapid Casting, every Spell flowing neatly into the next.

"Engorgio!"

The Magic usually used as an Engorgement Charm he instead cast on the ground. Stone slabs suddenly bulged upward, launching a dozen mummies into the air.

"Levicorpus!"

The Priori Incantatem sent them flailing, losing balance in mid‑fall.

"Sectemsempra!"

Invisible blades sliced the airborne targets with surgical precision. And then—

"Aquamenti!" followed by "Three Feet of Ice!"

The torrent erupted and froze in an instant, sealing the mummy fragments inside a massive block of ice. The whole motion was fluid and continuous, like a cruel ballet.

Ian's side was still completely relaxed.

The Mummy Archbishop had already regrouped. It floated at the highest point of the ruins, from beneath its rotting Magic Robe spilling out countless golden tendrils, each one linked to an enhanced Mummy Priest. These newly spawned monsters had a metallic sheen crawling across their skin—obviously buffed by some kind of Protective Magic.

"Petty tricks…" the archbishop's voice carried a blasphemous harmony, "before the True God…"

"Oh, shut up." Ian cut it off impatiently. "Expelliarmus!"

A bolt of red light shot straight at the archbishop, only to be deflected at the last instant by a suddenly appearing golden barrier. Ian raised an eyebrow—he hadn't expected the Disarming Spell to even register on something like this, even if it was blocked.

"Well then… how about this?"

He suddenly pointed his Magic Wand straight at the sky, the tip's glow shifting from blue to red. This was a Compound Magic he'd invented in fifth year, never before used in live combat.

"Rain of Fierce Fire!"

The sky went dark in a heartbeat. Not from clouds, but because countless burning meteors had popped into existence, dragging long tails of flame as they plunged down! Every "meteor" was in truth a condensed Fiendfyre; on impact it didn't just explode—it ignited into Magic Flames that kept on burning.

The mummy horde finally fell into chaos. Those metal‑bodied forms twisted and warped in the Fiery Fire, golden fleshy nodules shrieking at a piercing frequency. The archbishop was forced to reel its tendrils back for self‑preservation, roaring in fury, its voice shattering the few stained‑glass windows still clinging to the walls.

Ian grabbed the opening, casting a Bubble Head Charm and Super Sensing Spell on himself, then dove straight into the sea of fire! The Fiery Fire didn't affect him at all; on the contrary, it became his perfect cover. In the choking smoke and blazing light, his Magic Wand stabbed out with the precision of a Swordsman's blade:

"Stupefy!"—a mummy in the middle of reassembling its body collapsed into total ruin.

"Severing Charm!"—three monsters guarding each other back‑to‑back were sliced in half at the waist simultaneously.

"Avada Kedavra!"

The moment that last Spell slipped out, Ian himself froze for a split second. The green light struck the archbishop's chest, only managing to stagger it a few steps—the Unforgivable Curses clearly had limited effect on something like this.

"Ha!" The archbishop spread its arms arrogantly. "Death Curse? That's it?"

But Ian's lips curled into a sly grin. "Who told you that was meant to attack?" He snapped his fingers. "Flashback Spell!"

Green light suddenly flared out from within the archbishop's body, but not in the form of a Killing Curse—instead it unraveled into countless filaments that lashed around all those golden tendrils! Avada Kedavra here had been repurposed as a Marking Spell; the real finisher was—

"Thousands of Bullets Firing Simultaneously!"

Every tendril marked by the green light began convulsing violently, because every mummy they were connected to exploded! The chain reaction raced along them like a string of firecrackers, all the way back to the archbishop's core body, finally blowing open a horrifying cavity in its chest.

"This… impossible…" The archbishop lowered its gaze to its mutilated form. "Mere Mortal Magic…"

"Mortals are the true creators of miracles. You've already lost your chance." Ian walked toward it at an unhurried pace, Magic Wand steady, pointing at its forehead. "Now, tell me where the embryo is."

"You think you've won? No. All we needed was to stall you. Once the True God descends, we will be reborn, and you and all creation will join us."

The archbishop suddenly twisted its face into a grotesque grin.

There were still plenty of mummies spawning in succession.

This time they no longer chanted Spells, but leapt straight into Flesh Fusion—dozens of Mummy Priests slammed together, bones reknitting, flesh regenerating, in a heartbeat forming a towering flesh colossus ten meters tall. The colossus had no face; its entire body was composed of endlessly writhing muscle and blood vessels, and in its hand it clutched a massive scythe pieced together from ribs.

With every step it took, the ground caved in, and a thick stench of blood flooded the air.

It swung the giant scythe; the blade didn't even have to land—the pressure wave alone planed the sand flat.

Ian looked up, his eyes still calm.

"Size doesn't equal strength," he said softly. "You forget—I'm a writer who uses paradox as my pen. As part of the Evil God's will, you know exactly what I can do."

He closed his eyes and began to write.

Not with a pen, but with his mind.

"Short Story: The Colossus's Collapse"

The flesh colossus swung its scythe, its momentum overwhelming.

But at its core lay a Mummy Priest's head.

That head had once been the Evil God's most faithful servant.

It dreamed of sitting on the Divine Throne, gazing down upon all beings.

But on waking, it found it was nothing more than a piece of the colossus.

It refused.

It struggled.

Its consciousness began to bite back against the colossus's structure.

Muscles tore, blood vessels burst, bones came apart.

The colossus crumbled—from within.

...

The five‑hundred‑word short piece was completed in an instant.

Reality locked into place.

The flesh colossus's movement cut off mid‑arc.

A crack split open across its chest—the core head's eyes snapped wide, filled with resentment and unwillingness. It began thrashing madly, trying to tear free of the colossus's restraints. With that one motion, the entire body was dragged along; the colossus's flesh turned on itself, muscle ripping muscle, blood vessels strangling blood vessels, and in the end—