The Wind Mage's Legacy: Chapter 26

Hi all,

Here’s the first chapter of the week.

Chapter 26

Harry surrendered to the Black Wind state. His vision sharpened as crimson flooded his irises, the world around him reduced to targets and obstacles. Wind whipped violently around his body, lifting nearby objects from the station floor orbiting him like miniature satellites in a violent storm.

The Balan twins exchanged a look before splitting up, using their lightning-enhanced speed to circle Harry from opposite directions. 

Cristina remained where she stood, observing the fight. Her fingers flexed, ready to intervene if necessary, but content to let her brothers test him.

Harry tracked the twin's movements without turning his head, the wind extending his awareness in all directions. He raised his hands as if conducting an orchestra and unleashed dozens of wind blades simultaneously. Unlike their usual translucence, these blades were black crescents, and released with such velocity, it surprised the twins into dodging frantically. Where they struck the platform, they gouged deep furrows into the stone.

"Harry, stop!” Ron shouted. "There are innocents everywhere! You'll hit someone!"

The words barely registered. Harry's focus narrowed to the lightning users. The twins closed the distance and launched compact balls of lightning from their fingertips. The electrical charges streaked through the air, converging on him from two directions.

Harry raised wind barriers in rapid succession, not bothering to dodge. Each lightning strike shattered a layer, forcing him to create more. The barriers trembled under the assault but held.

Several lightning balls went astray, careening toward the huddled Muggleborns. Ron and Hermione raised shields while Ginny levitated a bench to block a particularly powerful discharge.

Harry's rage intensified at the sight of his friends in danger. His arms rose, a conductor before an orchestra of destruction. The blades around him multiplied, their edges sharper, their speed greater. They shot outward in a deadly volley, too numerous to track.

One blade caught one twin across the shoulder. His momentum carried him forward even as his right arm separated from his body, falling to the ground with a sickening thud. His scream echoed through the station, blood spraying in an arc across the tiles.

The other twin howled with rage, electricity surging around his body. Lightning erupted from his fingertips in wild, uncontrolled bursts, striking walls, ceilings, and floors—anywhere but his intended target.

Kill them now, a cold voice whispered inside Harry's mind. Eliminate the threat completely. They wouldn't hesitate to slaughter everyone here.

The voice grew more insistent, offering tactical suggestions with increasing urgency. The girl is the real threat. Take her out first, then finish the brothers.

Harry’s head snapped in Cristina’s direction right as she blasted a support column, the concrete chunks raining down on the huddled Muggleborns. Harry diverted his attention momentarily, grabbing the debris with an updraft and launching it back at her in a single fluid motion.

The uninjured twin seized the opportunity, flanking Harry and unleashing a devastating lightning strike directly at his back.

Harry didn't even turn. His wind responded instinctively, a concussive blast repelling the attack and sending his attacker skidding across the platform. Before the twin could regain his footing, a wind blade sliced through the air.

His head separated from his shoulders, rolling several metres before coming to rest at the feet of a terrified bystander.

The other twin, still clutching the stump where his arm had been, launched himself at Harry. Lightning surrounded him like armour, his eyes wild with grief and rage.

Harry lifted him into the air with a casual gesture, wind currents wrapping around the man's throat. He squeezed his fist slowly, watching dispassionately as his face turned purple, legs kicking futilely.

Cracks of apparition punctuated the air as Aurors appeared throughout the station. They were joined by several adults, who rushed through the barrier, wands drawn as they assessed the situation.

Cristina glanced around, realising their position had become untenable. Electricity gathered beneath her feet, propelling her upward in a desperate escape attempt.

A ball of flame struck her mid-flight. Catherine McDonald appeared, riding her fiery construct, her expression fierce as she launched another attack.

Flames engulfed Cristina's body. She plummeted to the ground, electricity sputtering and dying as she screamed. Aurors swarmed her position, extinguishing the fire with jets of water from their wands before securing her with magical restraints.

"Potter! Release him now!" An Auror Harry recognised approached cautiously, wand raised. "This is your only warning!"

Harry ignored him, continuing to tighten his grip on Andrei's throat. The man's struggles grew weaker by the second.

Finish him, the voice urged. He deserves no mercy. Complete what you started.

Kaze materialised beside Harry.

"Enough," the spirit said, wresting control of the wind currents around the struggling twin. "You've done enough."

Harry turned toward Kaze, rage building anew. How dare the spirit interfere? For a moment, violent impulses surged through him—the urge to turn his power against Kaze, to tear apart anything that stood in his way.

A small tug on his shirt disrupted his thoughts. Harry whirled, hand raised to strike, only to find Ellis Parker staring up at him, eyes wide but unafraid. "I think you should stop now."

The words cut through the fog of rage like nothing else had. Harry stared at Ellis—at the child who'd once accused him of not being there when needed—now standing beside him amidst the carnage, asking him to show restraint.

The crimson glow began to fade from Harry's eyes, the darkness receding from the winds around him. He slumped to his knees, gasping as the Black Wind state released its hold. His entire body trembled with exhaustion.

Ron and Hermione rushed over, Ginny close behind. They formed a protective circle around him as Aurors secured the scene and began the monumental task of modifying Muggle memories and cleaning up the mess.

"Regina was here,” Harry said, his voice raw. "She apparated away when I arrived. The woman is behind this incident."

"We'll get her, Harry," Hermione said.

"Won't help those here. How many died?" 

Ron grimaced. "Don't know yet, mate. Try not to think about it."

Harry nodded, too exhausted to feel anything beyond hollow disappointment. His emotions seemed to freeze over, the aftereffects of using the Black Wind state leaving him numb. It felt even worse after pushing his abilities so far. He made the fight look easier, but there was a price to pay. His control was slipping, and it didn’t help that he had a voice in his head, urging him towards violence.

He stared at the twins' remains, disturbed by his lack of reaction to killing them. Would he feel remorse once he recovered, or would this emptiness remain? He suspected the latter.

"Don't," Hermione said, incorrectly guessing his thoughts. "They were trying to kill children, Harry."

Catherine landed nearby, dismissing her construct with a wave of her hand.

"Are you hurt?" she asked, crouching beside Harry.

He shook his head. "Just tired."

"That was quite the show," Catherine said. "But dangerous. If the kid hadn’t come—"

"I know," Harry interrupted. "I lost control."

Catherine's expression softened slightly. "No. You maintained just enough control to avoid harming innocents."

The station grew quieter as Ministry personnel efficiently cleared civilians from the area. Hermione helped Harry to his feet, supporting him when he swayed.

"We need to get you home," Hermione said. "The Aurors can handle this mess. You've done more than enough."

Harry looked toward the barrier where Ellis stood, hesitating before stepping through to Platform 9¾. The boy glanced back, his expression unreadable—a mixture of fear, concern, and something else Harry couldn't quite place. Then he vanished through the barrier.

He owed Ellis. The boy had risked himself to pull Harry back from the edge. 

"She's right," Kaze said. "We should leave before the Ministry decides to detain you for questioning."

"I'll be fine," Harry said, gently disentangling himself from Hermione's grasp. "You lot need to catch the train. Look after the kids for me—they'll be properly frightened after all this."

Ron and Hermione exchanged worried glances.

"Are you sure?" Hermione asked, her brow furrowed. "We could stay—"

"Go," Harry insisted. "They need you more than I do right now."

Ginny didn't hesitate, already heading for the barrier, likely to find Neville. After a moment's further deliberation, Ron nodded reluctantly and took Hermione's hand.

"If you're sure, mate.” His friends left, shepherding the terrified Muggle-born students through the barrier.

"You need to get a grip on your power," Catherine said. 

Harry snorted. "Bloody brilliant observation, that. Never would have thought of it on my own."

"No need to get snarky," Catherine replied, unfazed by his tone. "I need you to be fully functioning. We have bigger fish to fry."

"So you mentioned."

"You still haven't given me an answer about the Spirit Alliance."

"You'll have to wait a bit longer," Harry said, spotting Kingsley's tall figure moving through the crowd. "There's someone I need to speak with first."

Kaze's form darkened. "I doubt that flaming chicken knows anything useful."

"No harm in asking," Harry said, using the wind to turn himself invisible. 

He made his way to the exit. The last thing he wanted was an interrogation from Kingsley. 

It was time to leave England for a while, until things died down. Visiting Hou-oo was the perfect excuse. The Flame Spirit King might have some answers to some of his questions.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-==-=-=-=-=

Harry stood beside Ayano in the Kannagi shrine, facing the burning form of Hou-oo. The Flame Spirit King's massive phoenix shape dominated the chamber.

Kaze hovered nearby, looking like he wanted to be anywhere else but here.

"So," Hou-oo's voice resonated through the chamber, "you have learned about your family's history."

Harry crossed his arms. "Were you ever going to tell me about my family? About vessels and their abilities?"

The phoenix's head tilted. "Certainly. After Ayano conceived a child with spiritual powers."

"You manipulative old fart," Ayano snapped.

Hou-oo's form rippled with what might have been amusement. "How so? It's not like I forced the two of you together. You did that on your own. I just took advantage of the fact to help the clan."

Harry stepped forward. "You haven't answered my question. What happened back then? What caused the decline of both my family and the elemental spirits?"

"It's not something I speak of lightly. Instead of telling you about it, I will send you to a place where you can learn the truth for yourself."

"I don't have time for your games," Harry replied. "Just tell me what you know."

Kaze's form darkened. "I bet he doesn't know anything. We're wasting our time."

"Of course," Hou-oo continued as if Kaze hadn't spoken, "there's another benefit for going. You need help with the Black Wind state, correct? The spirit who resides at this place may be able to help you."

Harry's posture straightened. "Okay, now you have my attention."

"Really?" Kaze's form flickered with irritation. "You believed him that easily?"

"At least hear him out first,” Ayano said. "Where is this place, Hou-oo?"

"It's located at Mount Kailash in western Tibet. It’s a place where spiritual energy gathers in abundance," Hou-oo replied. "There is a temple there, where a very old spirit resides. The oldest living spirit existing today."

"What kind of spirit?" Kaze asked.

"Why ruin the surprise?" Hou-oo's flames brightened. "You're going to have a hard time getting it to help you. Although the spirit is wise, with an endless amount of knowledge, it is also very stubborn. But if you manage to get its help, you won't regret it."

Ayano glanced at Harry. "Should we check it out?"

Harry shrugged. "We've got nothing to lose.”

"I recommend you don't delay." Hou-oo's tone grew serious. "You're getting close to the edge, boy. If you don't mind, can you get Ayano with child quick smart before you succumb?"

"You won't let it go, will you?" Harry snapped. "Ayano will have a child when she's good and ready."

"You haven't told him yet, have you, Ayano?"

Harry turned to see Ayano avoiding his eyes, her cheeks flushed.

"Ayano?" he asked.

Hou-oo's fiery form shifted. "The reason Jugo was so insistent on penning a betrothal agreement is because spirit practitioners are fertile and get pregnant very easily. Well, at least with the first child. It goes doubly so for powerful practitioners. Normal means of protection don't usually work. It's not a matter of if, but when it happens."

Harry stared at Ayano, realisation dawning. "Is this why you're always having me pull out? You could have explained it to me."

"It's embarrassing," Ayano muttered, still not meeting his eyes.

"You find that embarrassing, but not everything else we get up to in bed?" Harry asked incredulously. "You have some strange hang-ups."

"Shut it," Ayano hissed, her face now completely red. "Let's discuss this another time."

“Sure, how about we save it for the next time I’m between your—”

Harry dodged to the side as Ayano launched a fireball at his head.

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence!”

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

The wind whipped around Harry as he soared through the air, Ayano held securely in his arms. Kaze streaked ahead of them, a translucent arrow pointing the way. Mount Kailash loomed before them, its snow-capped peak piercing the clouds like a sentinel guarding the roof of the world.

Harry had never seen a mountain quite like it. Its distinctive shape—almost too symmetrical to be natural—dominated the stark Tibetan landscape. Four sheer faces, nearly identical, aligned precisely with the cardinal directions. Ancient glaciers clung to its flanks, their blue-white surfaces catching the sunlight.

As they approached, Harry felt a weight lifting from his shoulders. The constant tension that had plagued him since King's Cross eased, replaced by an unexpected lightness. Even the voice that had haunted his thoughts remained mercifully silent.

"You feel it too?" Ayano asked, noticing his expression.

Harry nodded. "It's like all my worries are melting away."

"It's the spirit energy affecting you," Kaze called back to them. "This place is practically bursting at the seams with it."

Ayano surveyed the landscape as they circled lower. "Clans usually settle down in locations that are rich with spiritual energy. But the Kannagi residence can't compare to this. Why hasn't anyone settled down here?"

"Someone has," Harry replied. "This mysterious spirit Hou-oo mentioned. It probably frightens anyone who dares to get close."

Kaze snorted. "Hmph. I doubt he's stronger than me in my prime."

"You used to reside in China, right?" Harry asked as they began a slow descent. "Surely, you would have heard stories about this spirit."

"China is a big country," Kaze replied. "I lived far away from here. Even if I had heard of him, I doubted I would have wanted to visit."

They began searching for the temple, flying in widening circles around the mountain's peak. Hou-oo hadn't specified the temple's location or appearance, leaving them to scour both the mountainside and the surrounding valley.

Harry extended his wind senses, sending invisible tendrils across the landscape to search for any man-made structures. As his awareness expanded, a prickling sensation crawled up his spine. He felt watched—observed by something.

He glanced around, searching for the source of the feeling, but found nothing. Was it his imagination?

After another ten minutes of fruitless searching, they descended to land on the peak, the thin air no obstacle with Harry's wind abilities protecting both him and Ayano from the biting cold.

"There's something here," Kaze said, turning in a slow circle.

"Is it concealed?" Harry asked. "Like the village on Mount Fuji?"

Ayano frowned. "For what reason? I find it hard to believe someone can climb this mountain."

"They don’t need to. Ever heard of cameras? Satellites? Helicopters? Aeroplanes?" Harry countered.

"Alright, I get your point," Ayano conceded.

"The temple is here," Kaze insisted, drifting toward the centre of the summit.

A strong breeze swept across the peak, as if responding to Kaze's words. The air shimmered, revealing a structure that hadn't been visible moments before. A simple, run-down stone temple materialised on the mountain's summit, its weathered walls bearing the scars of centuries.

"Do you think this spirit knows we're here?" Harry asked, recalling the earlier sensation of being watched. "Is it inviting us inside?"

"Only one way to find out," Kaze replied, drifting toward the entrance.

They approached cautiously, pushing open the heavy wooden door. The interior was sparse, almost empty—stone walls, a dirt floor, and a single shaft of light penetrating the gloom from an open window above.

As Harry's eyes adjusted to the dim lighting, he spotted a silhouette perched in the window's frame, peering down at them with unblinking intensity.

The figure leapt down suddenly, landing on the dirt floor. Harry and Ayano recoiled in surprise.

Harry blinked, confusion washing over him. Wasn't this supposed to be a spirit? The figure before them appeared entirely human—an elderly asian man with weathered skin and piercing eyes, dressed in simple robes.

"You're not a spirit," Harry said. “What are you?”

The old man's lips curled upward. "Boy, don't believe everything you see with your eyes."

Without warning, his form shifted. Where the old man had stood moments before, a mountain pheasant now flapped its wings. The bird circled the chamber once before it transformed again, becoming a flaming arrow that streaked through the air directly toward Harry's chest. 

Harry raised his hands instinctively, wind gathering to deflect the attack—but the arrow dissolved into water before it reached him, splashing harmlessly to the ground.The puddle trembled, reshaping itself into a tiny stone golem no taller than Harry's boot. The miniature figure shook its fist at Harry in comical outrage.

"Bloody wind," Harry muttered, lowering his hands.

Ayano stepped closer to him. "What the hell is going on?"

"He's a Trickster spirit," Kaze explained. "Unlike typical elemental spirits, they create elaborate illusions that deceive the senses. We haven't actually seen his real form yet."

The golem twisted, stretching upward until the old man stood before them once more, looking thoroughly amused.

"You will never see my true form," he said. "The last time someone did was over a millennium ago."

Harry glanced around the dilapidated temple. "Are we standing in an illusion as well?"

The old man tilted his head. "Are you asking me or stating it as fact?"

"Fact," Harry replied confidently.

The old man waved his hand. The surroundings dissolved, revealing the same interior structure but transformed—clean stone walls, polished floors, and simple but elegant furnishings where before there had been only dirt and decay.

"I won't give you credit for a mere guess," the old man said, settling onto a cushioned seat.

Ayano ran her fingers along a nearby table. "I couldn't even detect the illusion."

"It's all a matter of perspective." The old man's eyes glittered. "Now, what do you want?"

"Hou-oo sent me," Harry said. "He says you could help me with some matters. Says you're the oldest spirit in the world."

"That's debatable." The old man turned to Kaze. "It's not often I get a visit from a Spirit King. Although you feel somewhat diminished."

Kaze's form rippled indignantly. "I formed a contract with the human. Greedy bugger took most of my power for himself."

The old man nodded before turning back to Harry. "I don't like trespassers. What is your name?"

"Harry Potter."

"Ah, yes. The family of vessels." The old man's eyes narrowed. "I'm surprised the family is still alive to this day."

"What do I call you?" Harry asked.

"Call me Baxi. Though you won't be here long enough to call me by my name." The old man—Baxi—leaned forward. "What is it that you want?"

"First, I'd like to learn about major events around the twelfth and thirteenth centuries that affected the spirits and my family."

"A turbulent time," Baxi said.

Harry waited for him to elaborate, but Baxi remained silent. He pressed on.

"I'm also having trouble with the Black Wind state. Hou-oo said that you could help me control it."

Baxi snorted. "That bird says a lot of things. Doesn't mean they're true."

"So, you can't help me.”

"It's not a question of if I can," Baxi replied. "It's a question of why should I? What's in it for me?"

"What do you want?" Harry asked.

"To be entertained. I will give you three challenges. Complete them to my satisfaction, and I will help you."

Baxi rose from his cushion. The old man—or whatever he truly was—circled Harry with measured steps.

"Three challenges, three elements," Baxi announced. "Wind you already command, so your trials will test earth, water, and fire."

Harry exchanged glances with Ayano. "What exactly do these challenges involve?"

"Impatient, aren't we?" Baxi clicked his tongue. "Your first challenge begins now."

The temple walls dissolved around them. Harry found himself standing alone on a narrow stone ledge halfway up the mountain, bitter wind whipping his clothes. Below him stretched a sheer drop of several hundred meters. Above loomed a vertical rock face, smooth and seemingly unclimbable.

"Earth challenge," Baxi's voice echoed from nowhere and everywhere. "Reach the summit without using your wind abilities or magic."

Harry surveyed his predicament. The ledge extended barely a foot from the cliff face, affording him minimal space to manoeuvre. He felt for his wand in his pocket, only to discover that it was missing. 

"What’s the point of this?" Harry muttered, pressing his back against the cliff.

A sudden crack beneath his feet sent his heart racing. The ledge began crumbling, forcing him to scramble sideways. His fingers dug into tiny crevices as he clung to the rock face.

Harry took a deep breath, assessing his options. He couldn't fly—that would use his wind abilities. He couldn't apparate either, as that was considered magic. That left climbing.

Despite the temptation to summon wind, Harry forced himself to rely solely on physical strength. His fingers found purchase in near-invisible cracks as he began inching upward. Years of Quidditch had built unexpected stamina, but climbing taxed different muscles entirely.

Halfway up, his arms burned with fatigue. Sweat trickled down his back despite the freezing air. A handhold crumbled beneath his grip, sending him sliding several feet before his fingers caught a protruding stone.

The summit appeared tantalizingly close yet impossibly far. Each meter required careful planning—test the hold, shift weight, secure position, repeat. His progress slowed as exhaustion set in, fingers bleeding from sharp edges.

When he finally hauled himself over the edge onto level ground, Harry collapsed onto his back, chest heaving.

Baxi stood above him. "Not entirely graceful, but you completed the challenge."

Before Harry could respond, the mountain dissolved. He plunged into frigid water, pressure crushing against his eardrums. His lungs seized in shock, precious air bubbles escaping from his nose as he flailed.

"Water challenge," Baxi's voice penetrated the liquid depths. "Find what's hidden at the bottom."

Harry thrashed, disoriented, before forcing himself to stillness. He floated in what appeared to be a mountain lake. Weak sunlight filtered from above, creating wavering patterns through the water. The cold bit into his skin like knives, numbing his fingers and toes within seconds.

He twisted his body downward, kicking hard against the resistance. His eyes stung as he peered into the murky depths. The lake bottom remained invisible, an impenetrable darkness swallowing all light. Harry's chest tightened, lungs burning for oxygen already.

Harry jackknifed his body, diving deeper with powerful kicks. Each metre increased the pressure against his skull. The Dursleys had never bothered with swimming lessons, and Dudley had regularly tried to drown him during their few trips to the local pool. His technique was rough but effective, born from necessity rather than training.

Thirty seconds had passed since his submersion. His heartbeat thundered in his ears. The cold numbed his face now, a blessing against the growing pain in his chest.

Spots danced across his vision as he forced himself deeper. Forty-five seconds. His body screamed for air. The Triwizard Tournament task in the Black Lake had given him gillyweed. This time, he had nothing but determination.

Something glinted far below—a small object half-buried in silt. Harry kicked harder, fighting against his body's growing lethargy. The water pressure squeezed his ribs, making each movement increasingly difficult. A minute underwater now. The edges of his vision darkened.

The glint grew clearer—circular, metallic. Harry stretched his arm, fingers straining toward it. His fingers brushed against cold metal. A medallion. Harry dug his fingers into the silt, wrenching it free with the last of his strength. His hand closed around it just as his body reached its limit.

Black spots consumed most of his vision now. Harry kicked upward, muscles burning with lactic acid. Each stroke felt weaker than the last. The surface shimmered impossibly far above him.

His chest spasmed, demanding he breathe regardless of consequences. Water rushed into his mouth as consciousness began slipping away. The medallion clutched in his fist seemed to pulse with warmth—the only heat in this freezing tomb.

Harry's legs stopped responding. His free arm waved feebly. The surface receded as he began sinking back into darkness. So this was how it ended—not by Voldemort's hand or the Black Wind's corruption, but drowned in some mystical lake.

Then blackness.

Harry erupted from the water with a violent gasp, his body convulsing as air rushed into oxygen-starved lungs. He found himself on his hands and knees on solid ground, water streaming from his hair and clothes, the medallion clutched in his white-knuckled grip. 

Somehow, he found himself back on the surface. He could have sworn he had blacked out.

"Cutting it close," Baxi observed. 

Harry couldn't speak yet, still hacking water from his lungs, each breath rasping painfully through his throat. His entire body trembled from cold and exertion, muscles twitching involuntarily.

Harry finally raised his head. "Are you trying to kill me?"

"You need to remember," Baxi replied. “It’s all in your head.”

Before Harry could ponder this cryptic response, flames erupted around him, forming a perfect circle. Heat seared his skin, the intensity forcing him backwards until he stood at the circle's centre.

"Fire challenge," Baxi announced. "Navigate through the burning labyrinth."

The circle of flames transformed, walls of fire stretching upward and outward, forming a complex maze that surrounded Harry completely. The narrow pathways between infernos offered barely enough space for him to squeeze through. Heat pressed against him from all sides, scorching his lungs with each breath.

Harry shielded his face with his arm, scanning for a path forward. Sweat poured down his back, instantly evaporating in the intense heat. His instinct screamed to summon wind to protect himself, but he resisted, knowing it would mean immediate failure.

The medallion in his hand grew uncomfortably hot. Harry examined it, noticing intricate engravings across its surface—a labyrinth pattern that seemed to shift and change as he turned it.

"A map," he muttered, studying the engravings more closely.

The pattern on the medallion showed his position within the burning maze. Harry squinted through the haze of heat, matching the medallion's paths to the flaming corridors surrounding him.

He took his first steps forward, edging sideways between two roaring walls of fire. The heat intensified with each movement, his clothes beginning to smoke at the edges. A wrong turn would mean certain failure—or worse.

Consulting the medallion, Harry worked his way deeper into the labyrinth. The paths narrowed further, forcing him to press his back against one wall of flame to avoid touching another. His skin blistered from proximity despite never directly contacting the fire.

The medallion grew hotter in his palm, nearly unbearable to hold, but he clutched it tighter. Its pattern continued shifting, revealing new pathways as others sealed off behind him.

Halfway through, a wall of flame suddenly surged forward, blocking his planned route. The fire roared like a living thing, hungry and impatient. Harry frantically checked the medallion, finding a new path had appeared—a detour requiring him to backtrack through an even narrower corridor.

His hair singed as he squeezed through, the smell of burning fabric filling his nostrils. The medallion's pattern twisted again, revealing the maze's centre—not an exit, but a chamber where all paths converged.

Harry pushed forward, each step more agonising than the last. His lungs burned, his vision wavering from heat and dehydration. The medallion's surface blistered his palm, but he refused to release it.

When he reached the central chamber, fire surrounded him completely, closing in from all sides. The medallion's pattern vanished entirely, leaving only a blank, glowing surface.

"There's no exit," Harry realised, turning in a complete circle. The fire advanced steadily, leaving him less than a metre of safe space.

In desperation, he studied the medallion once more. Its blank surface reflected the surrounding flames, and something clicked in his mind.

Harry thrust the medallion into the nearest wall of fire. Instead of melting or burning, it absorbed the flames around it, creating a temporary gap. Without hesitation, Harry lunged through the opening, tumbling out of the labyrinth entirely.

He landed hard on the stone floor of Baxi's temple, coughing and wheezing, the medallion still clutched in his scorched hand.

Ayano rushed to him, checking him for injuries. "You're okay! I've been watching everything—it was terrifying!"

Kaze hovered nearby, his form agitated. "Those were unnecessarily dangerous trials."

"On the contrary,” Baxi said. “The dangers were entirely fabricated."

"Felt real enough," Harry growled.

"Illusions can kill if you believe in them strongly enough," Baxi shrugged. "But you survived all three challenges, which tells me something important.”

“What is that?”

“That you're ready to face the Black Wind head-on,” Baxi replied. “You have already reached a stage where it's beginning to take over. Resolving it isn’t going to be easy. It may even kill you.”

Harry frowned. “I think I would prefer becoming a homicidal maniac.”

So, what do you think? In the next chapter, Harry has a history lesson, and he tries to gain control of the Black Wind.

Thanks for reading.