MM Racing Chapter 464-463: The Revival of the Past 7
Chapter 464-463: The Revival of the Past 7
Chapter 464-463: The Revival of the Past 7
The man in the black robe was going up the stairs.
He had already pulled out his wand, which was stained with countless killings.
Meanwhile, at the junction of the seventh level of the underground prison and the ground passage, five prisoners were anxiously huddled around a heavy bronze door.
These places were already filled with a strong stench of blood and the burnt smell of magic remnants because of the black-robed man's silent but efficient "cleaning".
At this moment, this buffer zone where the underground meets the surface is as if it has been swept by a storm. This is the final barrier, a massive metal gate inscribed with powerful ancient magical runes, blocking the path to freedom. The gate shimmers with light.
It was clearly protected by extremely strong protective magic.
Seven or eight figures gathered in front of the door. They were ragged, most of them were injured, and their faces showed a mixture of extreme fear, a desire to escape, and frustration at their failure.
They were the few criminals who had slipped through the net earlier—those skilled in concealment magic or who happened to be hiding in corners with strong magical shielding effects when the black-robed men went on their killing spree. During the massacre, they successfully hid themselves, relying on their instinctive intuition of danger or some kind of survival trump card, holding their breath until they sensed that the suffocatingly terrifying aura had left the prison levels and gone deeper, only then daring to cautiously reveal themselves.
Seizing this fleeting opportunity, they ran frantically to this spot. They thought they could escape, but this door became an insurmountable barrier for them.
"Quick! Find a way to open this damn door!" a scarred sorcerer with fierce eyes roared. He kept shooting out breaking and unlocking spells with his wand, but the light only splashed out ripples when it hit the metal door and disappeared without a trace. The door did not budge.
"It's no use! This is a gate of rejection enhanced by ancient fairy craftsmanship. Without a specific key or sufficiently powerful authorization magic, it simply cannot be opened!" Another elderly prisoner with gray hair and a somewhat learned appearance cried out in despair. He tried several more complex ancient spells, but to no avail.
"Smash it! All of you, charge!" roared a burly prisoner who appeared to have giant blood, wielding a huge wooden club inlaid with sharp stones and smashing it against the door.
"Bang!"
With a loud crash, the wooden stick bounced back, making his arm go numb, and leaving only a faint white mark on the door.
"Fool! What good is brute force!" the scarred wizard roared.
"Then what do you suggest we do?! Wait for that monster to catch up?!" the giant-blooded prisoner retorted.
Fear and despair quickly turned into infighting. Several people began blaming and arguing with each other, and the scene became chaotic.
They tried every method imaginable—jointly casting blast spells, attempting to find magical nodes on the door to interfere, and some even tried to use polymorph to squeeze through the crack in the door—all their efforts were in vain.
This door is just like the stone door in Saruman's memory.
It was cold and absolute, blocking their path to survival.
after all.
Even as a replica, it is still quite remarkable.
"What should we do?"
The criminals looked at each other in bewilderment.
They are all "special containment subjects"—not ordinary dark wizards, but dangerous individuals who have touched forbidden areas and even had indirect contact with some evil churches.
One of them was named Grayson, a former Auror traitor who was skilled in Apparition and Counter-Detection magic.
Another person is named Mora, who is skilled in mind manipulation and dream infiltration; the other three are respectively proficient in forbidden techniques such as elemental explosion, blood curse transformation, and spatial folding.
Everyone here is an expert.
So after the man in black left, they quickly broke free, using Mora's mental interference to disrupt the monitoring crystal, while Grayson used spatial folding to bypass the patrolling golems, stealthily making their way to the last barrier leading to the ground. However, no matter how they tried—bombarding it with blasting spells, breaking the spell with dispelling incantations, or even activating the ancient inscriptions with blood sacrifice—they only got one result.
The door didn't move at all.
"Damn it!" Grayson slammed his fist on the door, blood seeping from his knuckles. "This door isn't a physical structure! It's alive!"
"Nonsense!" Mora snapped. "We all know it's part of the 'Key to the Gate'! But do you have a way to open it?"
"How about we work together to tear open space?" suggested a short, stout man, Croft, a blood curse master.
"Tear space apart here? Are you trying to blow up the entire prison, or release what's behind the door?" Mora sneered. "Are you insane?"
"It's better than waiting to die!" Croft roared. "The man in black could return at any moment!"
"He's not coming back," the other man said ominously. "He thinks we're all dead."
Before the words were even finished, the air suddenly froze.
A chilling killing intent emanated from behind them, like a venomous snake coiling around their necks. The five men whirled around and saw the man in black robes standing at the end of the passage.
Beneath the hood, his eyes were as black as an abyss, and his wand was already silently raised in his hand.
There were no warnings, no words.
A scarlet spell shot out like lightning—"AvadaKedavra".
Croft didn't even have time to react before a green light pierced his chest. His eyes widened, his body went limp, and his soul was instantly ripped away.
"Attack!" Grayson roared, his figure blurring as he activated Apparition.
Mora formed hand seals and released a cloud of purple mist, attempting to invade the black-robed man's consciousness. The other two summoned a giant fire python and an ice crystal spear, respectively, attacking from both sides.
The underground passage instantly turned into a battlefield.
Flames and frost clashed, the light of incantations exploding on the stone walls, shards of rock raining down. The black-robed figure moved like a ghost between the attacks, each swing of his wand claiming a life. He first blasted an ice crystal spear to dust with a "Confringo," then countered with a "Sectumsempra," severing the arm of the fire-wielding prisoner at the shoulder, who fell to the ground screaming in agony.
Mora's mental attack was blocked by a silver shield—an ancient "mental barrier" that even Dementors could not penetrate.
"You can't escape, Grayson," the man in black said coldly, his voice piercing through the chaotic magical storm.
Grayson appeared ten meters away, his face deathly pale: "You knew we'd hide?"
"I know you'll be resentful," the man in black robes said, slowly approaching. "But you shouldn't even dream of opening that door."
O
"Why?!" Mora screamed. "What's behind the door?!"
The man in black did not answer. He flicked his wand, and a black chain appeared out of thin air, binding Mora tightly.
She struggled, but could not break free from the bonds woven by pure magic.
Seeing this, Grayson gritted his teeth and activated his final Apparition, aiming directly at the ventilation shaft at the end of the passage. However, the instant he disappeared, the black-robed man's lips curled into a cold smile, and he muttered, "Apparition..."
Lock.
"
The space was locked. Grayson's figure was forced to appear in mid-air, crashing heavily to the ground, the sound of his ribs breaking clearly audible.
"It's over." The man in black robes walked up to him, looking down at him.
Grayson coughed up blood, his eyes filled with despair: "We—just want to live—"
"Some secrets are not meant for the living to know." The man in black robes raised his wand.
A green light flashed.
The last prisoner fell.
The passageway fell silent again, with only the embers of the flames slowly dying out on the ground. However, even after killing all the criminals, the man in black still did not put away his wand.
After all, this is just one of the groups.
He has another group of people that the man in black robes needs to deal with.
"This isn't the way out! Damn it, I knew I should have followed Grayson!"
"Shut up! Give me some time to think of a solution!"
There was another group of people, apparently those who had split up from the escapees after disagreeing on the route. They were arguing loudly at what appeared to be an exit.
The layout here is exactly the same as the one Grayson and his group had used before, so naturally, the situation these criminals encountered was no different from what Grayson and his group had faced.
Just as these people were discussing whether to go back the way they came to find the others.
"That's enough!"
A chilling voice, as if from the deepest hell, rang out behind them without warning.
All the arguing stopped abruptly.
The prisoners were frozen in place, turning their heads stiffly and slowly.
At the entrance to the stairs leading to the prison below, the man in black robes had silently appeared. He was completely shrouded in black robes, the shadow of his hood obscuring his face, with only his inhuman pupils gleaming coldly in the darkness, reflecting an absolutely icy emotion.
That's enough.
He held a seemingly simple wand that emanated an ominous aura, and his body was surrounded by a force field that mixed the aura of the abyss with pure killing intent.
No warnings, no nonsense.
Just as the prisoners turned around, their pupils dilating in horror, the black-robed man's wand was already raised—
A blinding, pure green light tore through the dim air, carrying an irresistible will of death, and accurately struck the scarred sorcerer who was closest to him and was still in a daze.
"Avada Kedavra!"
The male wizard's fierce expression froze instantly, and the light in his eyes went out completely, like a blown-out candle.
He didn't even have time to let out a scream before his body went limp and he vanished instantly. The black-robed man's killing was swift, efficient, and ruthless to the extreme.
"He killed Scarface!"
"Let's fight him!"
The remaining prisoners erupted in desperate madness from extreme fear. The instinct for survival overwhelmed reason; they knew there was no hope of escape, only a fight to the death!
In an instant, colorful and varied magical lights burst forth in this narrow space!
"Split Curse!"
"Flames are burning!"
"Death Coil!"
"Sleeping Curse!"
Countless incantations rained down on the man in black robes like a storm.
The explosion erupted around him, sharp magical blades sliced through the air, and deadly beams of light pierced the air. Craters were blasted into the ground, scorch marks and cracks covered the walls, and the entire hall at the junction trembled violently under the barrage of magic, with debris and dust falling in a flurry.
However, faced with this combined attack, powerful enough to instantly tear apart an Auror squad, the black-robed figure moved and flickered like a ghost through the magical storm. His movements defied logic, sometimes blending into the shadows, and sometimes teleporting short distances at speeds imperceptible to the naked eye.
This is clearly an ability brought about by pollution, and also Cthulhu's allure to human wizards. In any case, it can indeed bring powerful abilities to wizards at this stage.
The fact that the man in black robes is far stronger than most headmaster-level wizards is proof of this.
Of course, this person must have been quite talented, otherwise he wouldn't have been accepted as a disciple by Saruman. However, there are very few wizards who have reached such a level at this age.
It's highly unlikely that the Cthulhu contamination didn't bring any benefit whatsoever.
"I'm sorry, everyone, you will need to stay here permanently."
The man in black sighed, his wand dancing into a black blur, precisely blocking, deflecting, and even annihilating incoming spells.
A massive, glowing energy shield instantly materialized, blocking several shattering spells. He then cast another spell almost without pause.
A beam of grayish-white light shot out, instantly turning a prisoner who was preparing for his next curse into a frozen statue. Black, lifelike flames erupted from the tip of his wand, transforming into a python that coiled around another prisoner, instantly devouring him, leaving only a brief scream and the stench of burning flesh.
"Aaaaaah!"
The criminals were wailing.
The man in black robes was casting a spell.
He wasn't merely defending; he was launching a highly efficient and ruthless counterattack. His magic was powerful and unpredictable, often blending the techniques of orthodox wizarding with a life-desecrating force from the abyss. A prisoner attempting to ambush him from the side was sent flying by an invisible force he unleashed in a backhand strike.
The sound of bones shattering was clearly audible as the opponent crashed into the wall. Clearly, the physical mutation had granted the black-robed man strength comparable to that of warriors extinct in this era.
Cultivating both magic and martial arts.
They've always been supermodels.
"Aaaaaah!!"
"My hands! My head!"
The criminals were no match for the man in black.
The battle here appears dazzling but is actually brutal; the light from the clash of magic flickers in the dim underground. Prisoners fall one after another; some are instantly killed by killing curses, some are tortured beyond recognition by evil curses, and some are reduced to dust under the crushing force of powerful magic.
Their numbers dwindled rapidly.
Finally, when the last remaining prisoner who could still stand—the old prisoner with gray hair—collapsed to the ground after being tortured to the point of having his bones ripped out, letting out a shrill, inhuman wail, all the other prisoners who were still alive but in crippled state were stunned. They watched as the old prisoner's suffering was finally ended by a green light.
"No!"
The criminals were almost numb; the previous rage and madness were long gone from their faces, leaving only utter...
A despair that penetrates to the bone.
In the entire hall, only the man in black robes remained standing. The magical field around him slowly subsided, and his black robes were spotless, as if the fierce battle that had just taken place had nothing to do with him.
"You have no idea how serious the problem is. If any of you were to take it out, it would be an irreversible disaster for the entire world." The man in black robes coldly surveyed the mess on the ground and the lifeless bodies, his vertical pupils devoid of any emotion.
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