great-warnovel Chapter 170 The Battle of the Cowards
Chapter 170 The Battle of the Cowards
Chapter 170 The Battle of the Cowards
As Hermione rose into the sky without looking back and disappeared into the smoke, Dumbledore withdrew his oppressive gaze. The basilisk also finally turned around and looked at the only person left behind.
Lockhart almost felt a shiver run through his soul. Even before he made eye contact with the basilisk, the deathly aura seemed to have already seeped into his very being.
Without even thinking much, he instinctively darted to the right, and the next second, the terrifying giant snake head crashed into the spot where he had just been standing.
The basilisk launched its attack without warning, and Lockhart would probably have been smashed to pieces if it weren't for his body's instinctive reaction.
"Has this body been trained to have this kind of combat reflex?" Lockhart thought bitterly.
During the ten years he was asleep, his perfect personality faithfully carried out everything he planned. He possessed powerful combat abilities and a persona of being knowledgeable and righteous. He didn't know how many books he had read or how many battles he had experienced. These things not only existed in his memory but were also engraved into his body's instincts.
He knew he couldn't look the basilisk in the eye, and the battle tactics he had used against the basilisk in his previous personality battles were still in his mind.
But the real him now lacks that kind of unwavering will and composure in the face of danger. The thought of the basilisk's gaping maw makes him tremble involuntarily. He touches the wooden wand on his back and pulls his hand back as if he's been electrocuted.
Ten years later, he touched his mother's hand again—almost a physiological nausea, he felt a spasm in his esophagus, and a sudden surge of inexplicable sadness and bitterness welled up.
"Damn it! Forget all that!" He shook his head vigorously.
With a flick of his cloak, the eagle-horse appeared before him. The perceptive creature immediately sensed something was wrong with its master. The once brave and fearless master, radiating confidence like a blazing sun, now seemed filled with unease.
Hesitation and cowardice, a sadness etched into the scent.
It snorted in confusion, but the familiar body temperature and touch made it resistant.
Lockhart skillfully mounted the horse, tightening and loosening the reins as if he were a complete stranger, adjusting to the feel of the Hippogriff, and finally spurred the horse forward like an arrow.
The basilisk followed closely behind, relentlessly pursuing him. Its massive body crushed and shattered the rocks and protruding cliffs at the bottom of the valley. Perhaps because of Voldemort's previous orders, it harbored extremely strong malice towards Lockhart, seemingly determined to kill him.
Lockhart couldn't fly upwards. Although the smoke wasn't fatal to wizards—they could just hold their breath and rush through—the hippopotamus had a large lung capacity, and flying at high speed would cause it to inhale large amounts of fiery black smoke, which would lead to its rapid death.
These thoughts flashed through his mind; without the harpy, his own flying magic would hardly be able to shake off the basilisk.
It seems we'll be stopped halfway up, and with Apparition forbidden, it appears we can only contend with this behemoth at the bottom of the valley.
He drew his longsword from his waist, but it was no match for the basilisk. He looked at the weapon in his hand, but really didn't want to touch the wand on his back, so he reluctantly cast a spell without a wand, creating thick fog on both sides of the cliff and disappearing into it, trying to cover his tracks.
But the basilisk also possessed the characteristics of a snake, and it easily locked onto him using only heat. If the hippo hadn't reacted quickly, they would have both been stuck to the cliff face.
Lockhart gasped for breath, still shaken as he looked at the shattered cliff behind him. If it were another Lockhart, he would probably have retaliated without fear. But now, even with so much magic and skill, his will was too fragile. The basilisk's powerful body and roar made him tremble slightly and his heart race.
"Hiss~ Roar!"
With a sharp hiss, the basilisk seized the opportunity when the harpy turned and sprayed deadly venom at them.
Lockhart had no choice but to endure the discomfort and finally pulled the short cane from his back.
A tough iron armor curse protected him from the side. The harpy dodged urgently and narrowly avoided most of the venom. The remaining small amount only made the iron armor curse sizzle as it corroded.
"No, we're no match for the Basilisk!" Lockhart shouted, grabbing the hippo and trying to fly as high as possible so the Basilisk would have to climb the cliff to attack him.
The Hippogriff was puzzled. Why was its master avoiding the fight? Why wasn't he retaliating? They had fought back and forth outside Malfoy Castle before.
At this moment, the basilisk that had been coiled at the bottom of the valley raised its head, looked at Lockhart who had already flown under the smoke, and suddenly opened its mouth and began to twist and turn strangely.
The green light in its eyes grew stronger and stronger, and an invisible sound wave spread from its mouth as it twisted.
Hippowdon couldn't hear the voice, but Lockhart could; it seemed to be some kind of curse, or perhaps the call of the dead to the living.
The basilisk had previously swallowed the remains of Lockhart's sisters, and now, using that last remaining connection, it cast a curse on Lockhart once more!
A magical creature bred by a wizard, but under Voldemort's modification, it gained the ability to curse others!
Lockhart stared at the serpent's gaping maw, where two dark green figures seemed to appear. The figures softly called Lockhart's name, and as his vision blurred, the figures became clearer.
"Little brother~"
"Come here, little brother!"
"Your sisters miss you so much~"
A mournful sound came from the bottom of the valley, echoing in the empty space, gradually amplifying in Lockhart's ears.
"I can't listen anymore!"
"Close your ears!" Lockhart immediately cast a spell on himself, but it seemed that simply blocking his hearing was not enough to completely block out the effects.
His balance was deteriorating, and he felt dizzy and lightheaded. He knew that if he lost consciousness and fell, he would surely die. Even though he was cowardly, he still had the will to survive.
He took a deep breath, gripped his wand tightly, and then raised it towards the basilisk's gaping maw, firing several blasting spells in quick succession.
"Thunderous explosion!"
"Thunderous explosion!"
"Thunderous explosion!"
The deafening explosion echoed throughout the canyon, breaking the basilisk's curse. But from the billowing smoke and dust, its enormous head emerged unharmed.
A wave of despair washed over Lockhart; his spells couldn't possibly harm the basilisk, whose thick skin seemed to possess some kind of magical power.
But I do remember a spell that could harm the basilisk!
It was Hermione who gave him the Great Bow of Loretta!
The magic is named after someone I've never heard of, but its power is truly astonishing.
However, Lockhart had only thoroughly studied this magic before, but had never actually used it even once.
Given his current personality and state, is he capable of unleashing this magic?
Moreover, if the snake monster catches up to them after such a long period of charging up, the outcome will likely be even worse.
A host of unfavorable factors surfaced in his mind, as if every nerve in his brain was urging him to give up.
"If I stall a little longer, perhaps Dumbledore will see that I am no match for him and then he will take action to eliminate the Basilisk?" A thought lingered in my mind.
At that moment, the black smoke in the sky seemed to be suddenly blown away by a strong wind.
He and the basilisk looked up and saw a group of people standing on the edge of the cliff, watching them.
Lockhart saw Dumbledore, McGonagall, Flitwick, and his familiar students Hermione, Draco, Harry, Ron, and Neville.
They all looked at him with concern, and the children looked at him with a self-respecting gaze of worship and trust.