Chapter 70. In danger

"Sensitive spot? Just imagine what will happen when you find out what happened to Grandma Melania," the black-haired boy continued. He pretended to be unaffected by the deadly curse. All he knew was that his grandmother had been found under a spell of ecstasy — a secret that Andy had told him. Although he hadn't given many details, it wasn't public knowledge.

He increased his physical stats. His speed and reflexes were the most important things here. The professors should be in their way. This wasn't a battle of attrition; he wanted to end the duel quickly.

[Physical]

Speed: 43 (+25,600).

Strength: 29 (+25,600).

Reflexes: 45 (+25,600).

Endurance: 26 (+25,600).

Vitality: 35 (+51,200).

Stats points: 0

Arcturus's eyes flashed with ill-concealed interest.

"What are you talking about?" He could barely move his head when a spell grazed the corner of his eye, leaving a small red mark. Drops of blood came out.

Altair did not respond. Arcturus launched a series of spells in his direction. He regretted not investing more points in his physical attributes earlier. His reflexes helped him to dodge and counterattack. His speed enabled him to keep up with the combat.

"She died," he lied, seeing fear flash in Arcturus's eyes. A shield blocked the incoming spell.

"You're lying!" His mind refused to accept that idea.

Arcturus had fought in a war. He was no novice, and Altair's physical abilities were astonishing. He attributed them to the demonic part of Altair's nature. Arcturus cast an explosive spell at Altair's feet. Altair barely managed to form a shield to stop the debris.

"Depulso," he muttered.

The debris, which was suspended in the air, flew towards Arcturus. The former patriarch shattered it. He was furious. Melania was the love of his life. It would take an enormous search to replace her; to find someone like her would be impossible.

"You have several women behind you," said Arcturus calmly. "One of them is going to replace my wife." He put more power into each spell. He threw one at Altair's feet while throwing another at his torso.

Altair banished the debris, shaking the ground. He tried to dodge the second spell, but stumbled because of the first. The shield he put up was shattered by Arcturus's second spell.

Instinctively, he filled his left hand with mana and held it open in front of his stomach where the spell would hit. The explosive curse struck his palm. Altair felt the air leave his lungs as he hit the wall behind him.

"You're not that good," Arcturus said, knowing the spell would have killed most mages.

"You couldn't save your wife," he whispered, catching his breath. Being in a duel to the death wasn't going to stop him from trash-talking.

A yellow curse hit the wall next to Altair, melting the wood like butter in a hot pan. Altair took a step back, his hand singed but relatively intact. He felt a deep pain in his ribs — they were probably broken.

Altair looked at his grandfather's face. The wound to his left eye had worsened to the point that he had to close it.

'A blind spot,' he thought, licking his lips. The taste of iron filled his mouth.

"Brat... you can barely stand," Arcturus sneered. Altair managed to keep up at first, but he lacked experience.

"Bombarda," Altair said. Arcturus deflected the spell with his wand while forming a shield to stop the debris.

Arcturus began casting spells left and right. Declaring himself the winner, the spells weren't lethal; he needed to capture Altair alive, or at least keep his body intact. His first Killing Curse had been a mistake; it would have rendered him useless, as would the Explosive Curse he had sent, which could have blown him to pieces. Ever since he had started wearing the locket, he had been more irritable than usual.

Altair formed a shield. None of the spells Arcturus cast were strong enough to destroy it.

"Stop!" His voice had been useful when he was facing weaker wizards, but against stronger ones, it would only throw them off balance for a moment.

The older man stopped, wondering why. His desire to open and study the demons grew with every passing second.

Altair seized the opportunity when the spells stopped to run to his right and look for his opponent's blind spot. Arcturus was no fool; he would not leave that side exposed. They began to walk in circles, casting curses at each other.

The black-haired man cast a cutting curse at Arcturus's right eye, changing his rhythm in an attempt to blind him. The war veteran stopped it with a shield. Altair cursed silently — he needed his opponent to dodge.

"Avada Kedavra," said Altair.

Like a bolt of lightning, a green line appeared in the middle of the room.

Arcturus was astonished. He had underestimated his grandson. He had narrowly dodged the spell, which he realised was a sham — a common curse disguised as a deadly spell — when he felt it pass by him. His grandson's second spell was aimed directly at him: an explosive curse. It seemed that he wanted to return the favour.

"Idiot," the old Black muttered, raising his wand.

Altair heard the old man laugh. His first spell had curved around Arcturus's back; he was unable to react in time. He still couldn't cast lethal spells like that. A Rictusempra was enough to buy him some time. He thanked his mother for teaching him that spell.

The old man barely managed to deflect the spell. The explosive curse hit the wall behind the wizard, creating a gaping hole. This time, Arcturus couldn't dodge the splinters that dug into his back. Altair didn't stop, preparing to rip his head off. Later, he would wonder if it was right to kill him. He wasn't going to give him a chance to fight back. Even though he already seemed defeated.

"Serpens," he heard his grandfather say.

He cursed, waiting for his body to disappear.

It didn't. His face was a picture. It contorted with rage and fear. Altair heard footsteps approaching the entrance to the tunnel and saw a pair of blue eyes shining inside.

Altair had never seen a spell like this in his entire life. In fact, he wasn't even sure if it was a spell or just raw magic expelled from Dumbledore's wand. Altair's eyes were wide open when he saw the Slytherin's Locket around Arcturus's neck glowing. A black spectre tried to escape, as if sensing its end.

Arcturus disappeared. Not because he had used a transporter or apparated himself. No, he had been disintegrated.

The spectre was destroyed too.

"I seem to have exaggerated a little," said Dumbledore with a sigh.

"Holy fuck, Sherlock!" Altair couldn't help exclaiming.

"Don't curse, My dear Watson", Dumbledore said with a smile.

"Where is Pettigrew?" Lily's voice came from the tunnel.

"Here".

Altair searched his tunic. He ended up pulling out the jar with the rat inside and handed it to Lily. But Dumbledore took it halfway.

"I'll question him," he said.

"He's mine," Lily said angrily.

Dumbledore seemed to hesitate.

"Lily," he whispered. "Let's discuss this in my office," he said. "Would you join us, Mr. Black?" he invited Altair. "I'd love to talk about how you won a duel against Arcturus. He's not an easy opponent," he said lightly.

Lily remained silent. She wasn't happy, but she accepted the situation.

"Is it mandatory?" Altair asked.

"No. But I'd prefer you to be there. Peter might say something that interests you," said the old headmaster. He entered the tunnel, leaving them alone.

Altair put his hand on Lily's shoulder. She flinched, but didn't stop him from helping her into the tunnel. Dumbledore walked tall. The tunnel seemed to bend to make way for him. Altair marveled at that small action. It was those little things that demonstrated the superiority of the man.

Altair won by luck. He was sure of it. Arcturus seemed too... emotional.

But he won.