Pain – Never-ending pain shatters all clear cognition and reason.

When the light suddenly darkened and the light rose again, Amosta was already in a world of endless chaos.

Overhead, the dark red and gloomy sky flashed with pitch-black lightning from time to time, and below the void stood a rough sea, and the wind whistling around it was made up of wails and sorrows.

Amosta's expression grimaced, he stood in the void, quietly looking down at the raging ocean below.

This chaotic sea is Pastore's consciousness, and every drop of water flowing in the ocean is the thought that has flashed in his consciousness since he came to the world, but in the whipping of the black thunder and the fierce self-collision of the water, all the thoughts stored in the 'water droplets' have been shattered.

After a long time, Amosta slowly raised his head to look at the culprit who caused the ocean of consciousness to be so chaotic.

With one step, Amosta has appeared at the end of the Sea of Consciousness, which floats in the infinite void, and beyond the borders, there is absolute darkness.

A giant vortex comparable to the mythical Kalybdis churns and swallows the entire sea of consciousness, and every second, the vortex is subjected to thousands of thunderous whiplashes, which makes the furious vortex itself let out a wail of pain.

Amosta frowned slightly, he looked up at the dark red canopy, the black thunder derived from nothingness, and after thinking for a moment, he slowly raised his right hand and spread his fingers towards the sky in a gesture of support.

Golden flames erupted from his palms and gradually changed shape.

Like an umbrella, the golden umbrella expanded in a very cautious manner, but even so, the world of consciousness where Amosta stood trembled slightly with the expansion of the flames, and everything in the horizon vibrated in the midst of the vibrancy.

Amosta's brow furrowed as he carefully manipulated the flames to avoid his own power from destroying a Muggle's fragile spiritual world.

Time seemed to have passed for a long time, and finally, a huge curtain of fire appeared above Amosta's head, and this golden curtain of fire completely obscured the violent vortex beneath him, but Amosta's expression was not relaxed because of this.

The thunder that fell from the sky pierced the protection he had created - no, it wasn't a breakdown, it was an inability to interfere.

These black thunderbolts were not formed by magical power, but by the spiritual attack brought about by the evil thoughts contained in the Drill Heart Mantra, which were simply the power of a different dimension.

Call--

Confirming that it was useless, Amosta waved away the flames, and he looked up at the black thunder that had been born out of nothingness, squinting as if thinking about something.

If it was in the material world, dozens of minutes had passed, and Amosta, who had been silent, finally acted again.

The index and middle fingers of his right hand were pressed together against the center of his brow—a transparent, stream-like substance flowing out of his forehead at an extremely slow pace.

It seemed like a very difficult thing for Amosta to 'pull out' this power he had never used before. The 'Clear Spring' flowed very slowly, and it tended to instinctively return to Amosta's spiritual body, but at Amosta's insistence, the transparent substance that formed the 'Heavenly Canopy' finally covered the small half of the whirlpool.

However, Amosta was also exhausted because of this, not due to a lack of strength, but because using the power of the soul was not something that Amosta could do in his current realm.

However, the defensive effect of the soul power against the attack of evil thoughts was immediate, and those vicious black thunderbolts hit the transparent canopy like rain, not to mention penetrating it, not even the slightest ripple could splash, and the whirlpool below that was always whipped was able to breathe.

The speed of the whirlpool slowed down, which gave some regularity to the shrill wails left in the roaring water, and Amosta, who had stopped forcing the power of the soul to leave the spirit body, squinted and listened carefully.

"Bastard! Stop, you bastard, get out of Valeria, please don't do that—stop! ”

Listening to the repetition of the pleading, and the cruel laughter and sobs that accompanied it, a cold light froze through Amosta's narrowed eyes.

"Mr. Bryan!"

Although a long time has been spent in the spiritual world, in the outside world, only a few seconds have passed. Kingsley saw Amosta, who was leaning over, take a step back, straighten up, and guessed what he was doing, and immediately asked,

"What did you find--"

"Very limited, Kingsley—"

The glint in Amosta's eyes dissipated, and he shook his head solemnly,

"As mentioned before, this Mr. Pastore has been tortured by the Mind Curse, and the Muggle's mental power is very fragile, and his consciousness is completely shattered."

Kingsley's gaze fell on the blank face of Pastore, his gaze mixed with sympathy, and at the same time, his mood also dimmed,

"It sounds like what happened to the Longbottoms, and it took St. Mungo more than a decade to get them back to normal—"

"But it's not for nothing--"

Amosta had heard of Neville's parents' ordeal, and his eyelids twitched slightly, and an idea suddenly occurred to him, but now was not the time to think about it, and he raised his right hand and snapped his fingers.

There was a sudden burst of laughter in the cramped little room, the voice of a young voice, but the laughter was full of cruelty, and this was the voice of the wizard who had tormented him that Amosta had only heard in Pastore's consciousness. Even if consciousness is shattered, the fear and hatred of this voice are still rooted in the depths of Pastore's sea of consciousness, almost engraved into the soul.

Faced with Kingsley's slightly confused eyes, Amosta said,

"I'm guessing the owner of this voice won't be the Field Vettelsbach, but there's no doubt that he's at the heart of Frazier's magical group, and if we're lucky, he'll probably be the one to send Hermione--"

"Angus Aeschylus."

Amosta was going to have Kingsley arrange for his Aurors to take the 'recording' and go to the smugglers and compare it with their memories, and if they were lucky, maybe this was the one who had secretly infiltrated England and sent Hermione a package.

Even if he didn't, he would have to ask Kingsley to send the unfortunate Mr. Pastore to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Injuries and Injuries, and if no new clues jumped into their sights, then he could try to join forces with Dumbledore and dig up more clues from Pastore's memories before waiting for the results of the investigation into the 'Master of Curses'.

And at this time --

"Angus Aeschylus--"

Seeing Amosta Bryne block the bullet, Louise's worldview suddenly collapsed, and she stood in the doorway as she watched as Amosta waved a small stick that magically silenced the wanderer and floated in mid-air. She listened to the conversation between Amosta and Kingsley--

Muggles, Hearts Curses, shattered consciousness, cruel laughter in the ears--

The strong sense of absurdity even made Louise faint for a while, and she held on to the door, struggling to stand, staring deeply at the two magicians who seemed to have ignored her?

Thoughts crossed Louise's mind, and at the same time, she was shocked by something.

Angus Aeschylus?

Amosta and Kingsley looked at each other as they looked at Louise.

Looking at the pale girl at the door, Amosta sighed slightly, he could fully imagine how this girl's heart had been damaged at this moment.

Amosta's face was calm, and a little pity quickly dissipated in his heart, since Louise insisted on seeing the truth, she had to bear the cruelty of the truth.

"I'm sorry, Louise--"

Amosta turned to face Louise and asked calmly,

"The name you just said—"

Although the list of smugglers sent by the Aurors was long, both Amosta and Kingsley had memorized it, and they both realized that Louise's name came from it.

"Is there any special significance?"

Amosta asked.

"So--"

Louise didn't answer Amosta's question, she stared straight at Amosta Blaine, and the look in her eyes that looked at him no longer had the shame and charm she had before, but strange, cold,

"The magic that Fraser is after exists, right?"

Louise clenched her fists, her shoulders trembling slightly, and she glared at the silent two,

"Please answer my question, Mr. Breine!"

(End of chapter)