amaotonovel Chapter 438 Cruciatus
Chapter 438 Cruciatus
Chapter 438 Cruciatus
The Quidditch pitch has become a mess.
The stands were fragmented and suspended in the air in a strange and weightless state.
There are magical plants with teeth and claws, or lifeless magical plants all over the venue.
Crouch laughed more and more crazily, and his mental state became more and more excited, which affected the spell he cast, and its power became stronger and stronger.
There was a burst of ridicule.
Navelmer fled across the Quidditch pitch without answering, throwing a handful of seeds from time to time to counterattack.
But this kind of offensive is useless in front of Crouch at this moment.
It's like he's soaked in Felicia.
Every spell can make perfect use of the magic power in the body, and it can also be extremely precise, creating great trouble for Neville.
Except for the first time.
Neville couldn't get any closer.
But he is not impatient at all, and a good hunter needs patience, especially when dealing with such a powerful prey.
patience.
He has been very patient.
After rolling to avoid another Cruciatus Curse, Neville stopped planting seeds, but took out a bottle of potion from his pocket, stuffed it into his mouth, and swallowed it in one gulp.
In the body, there is no change in breath.
On the other side of the field, Crouch, who had always kept a distance from Neville, paused, raised his left hand, and covered his head.
The world in front of me became unreal.
The phantom of Voldemort came out, under his feet, stepping on Mr. Crouch and Mrs. Crouch one by one.
Madam stared at him lovingly and pitifully.
Mr. hates iron but not steel.
The two sets of eyes stabbed and pinched severely.
Do not.
wrong.
Crouch pinched himself hard, now was not the time to think about it, he looked away and looked at the magical plants around him.
With extreme eyesight, he finally found a small plant under the rhizome of a fang geranium.
A green plant with a long little finger and a thick quill shaft, with a few bell-like dark red flowers that open downward, and dark purple spherical fruits that grow individually and are embedded in the pentagonal petals, all of which burst into full bloom. There was a faint mist between the puffs and puffs.
This mist perfectly blended with the frost and snow blowing up in the stadium.
"Epileptic eggplant!" Crouch gritted his teeth, and spit out the name of this plant through the gap.
As a double "O" winner in Herbalism and Potions, he recognized it at a glance.
It's dangerous.
But the danger is different from plants such as dragon claw vine, devil's net, biting cabbage, and fang geranium. It does not have strong individual life characteristics, and it will not actively attack others. Instead, it will release With magical mist, the smoker will fall into a huge and crazy fantasy, but this kind of fantasy will not be fatal or a simple fantasy will not be fatal.
Many wizards like this plant very much.
The reason some older wizards go crazy is probably because they take too much epilepsy.
This kind of plant, the Ministry of Magic once wanted to list it as a contraband, but there were too many potions that needed to use it, including many healing ointments and potions, and the proposal was ultimately dropped.
Neville stopped and looked at Crouch calmly: "I don't know when you learned it at Hogwarts."
"But it's fourth grade stuff."
"Professor Sprout was very careful when he was teaching. Together with Madam Pomfrey, he did an after-school examination for each student, for fear that some students would contract some bad habits that they shouldn't have."
"It seems that you need to review the relevant content for you again?"
In the last sentence, he was more or less happy.
Isn't the hunter's ten minutes of embarrassment just to prepare for the moment when the prey falls into the trap?
Crouch gritted his teeth.
The words are heard clearly.
What does this sentence mean?
Laugh at yourself!
"The little tricks I learned at Hogwarts can't handle me at all." The words he had just said seemed to be circling on the Quidditch pitch.
Neville charged at him.
Crouch stared at the front, but his vision was completely occupied by hallucinations, and he couldn't see clearly.
He could only rely on his own will—during the time he was imprisoned in Hogwarts, he had been immersed in the environment, and Snape's potion was much more real than the mere hallucinations of magical plants.
He could barely keep a certain amount of himself.
Try to distinguish the sound of footsteps.
Neville didn't even give him this chance. With a wave of his wand, several dead plants transformed into rough animals, scrambling in place.
Crouch held up his index finger.
"Longbottom!"
He uttered the spell, and the magic power poured out, centering on his body, and a huge storm was rolled up.
There was an extremely violent wheezing.
The magical plants around him poured inexorably towards him, before being torn apart in the gale.
Neville had no fear.
He raised his wand, and the armor spell was cast, protecting his body, and he was still outputting magic power continuously, maintaining the spell.
bang bang bang-
He walked into the gust of wind, as the knife-like wind kept hitting the armor curse. Neville was struggling, and he had to resist extremely powerful forces every step of the way.
The deeper you go, the stronger the spell will be, and the more violent the wind's attack will be.
After just a few walks, the armor curse was completely damaged.
It was almost impossible for the magic to sustain the spell, but his will persisted.
When Crouch can be seen vaguely.
The armor spell has been completely torn apart.
The strong wind cut one after another on his body, his robe was broken, and his pale skin was smudged into blood.
Crouch closed his eyes, regardless of everything, output magic power, and maintain the spell.
Epilepsy has limited hallucinogenic effects.
As long as he survived the 15 minutes of the strongest illusion, he still had a chance to continue fighting.
Neville didn't give him the chance.
Reach out.
A gust of wind blew up, cutting hideous wounds on the back of his hands and arms.
With a loud bang, the armor curse was completely broken.
Neville used his body to resist the power of the spell. Every time he blinked, dozens of wounds would appear on his body.
The spell is spoken.
"Destroy weapons!"
Bang.
Crouch was knocked into the air, this time he didn't have time to recite the armor spell, and threw it high.
The gust of wind stopped at this moment, leaving only the white mist slowly drifting away.
The index finger that he held tightly in his hand broke away from his hand and fell at Neville's feet.
Neville stepped on it, took a deep breath, took out a bottle of healing potion, took it, and walked towards Crouch.
His eyes were still tightly closed.
Hallucinations don't appear selectively because of whether he opens his eyes or not.
In the dark field of vision.
His real father, Lord Voldemort, floated proudly in the air, clad in white.
at his feet.
Mr. Crouch and Mrs. Crouch still looked at themselves with the same eyes that just came out of the hallucination.
"Longbottom, do you know?" Crouch said softly, but it was more like talking to himself.
"I should take my father's last name as my last name."
"It's not Crouch, and it shouldn't be called Batty like that hateful man."
Neville didn't speak, he was still approaching step by step.
Crouch continued to ask: "Longbottom, why are you so obsessed with avenging your father?"
"Did he ever love you?"
"You were only one year old when they were tortured by me."
"How old are you now?"
He paused, thinking with his dull mind: "You, like Potter, are in the sixth grade now, so you are 16 years old."
"For 15 years, your father never loved you."
"They won't celebrate your birthday, they won't celebrate you when you get grades."
"why why?"
He tried to open his eyes.
But the hallucination continued, he couldn't see Neville clearly, and even Voldemort's figure disappeared, leaving only Mr. Crouch and Mrs. Crouch.
The two of them stood upright and dressed formally.
When I was young, I imagined that my parents would send me off on the Hogwarts Express.
Neville didn't answer him.
He finally walked to Crouch's side, raised his wand with trembling hands, and pointed it at the ashamed man on the ground.
Cherry wood, unicorn hair.
A magic wand that can only be held by a person with strong self-control, an excellent mind, and a pure and kind heart.
But at this moment, it is ready and no longer resists those negative emotions.
Even next, it will cooperate with its master to release that spell——
Neville's hands were trembling, as was his mouth.
He took a deep breath.
The sound of "po" was brewing in his mouth, ready to be released, but he just couldn't pronounce it.
Struggling inside.
He gritted his teeth, closed his eyes, and waved his wand.
What was released was not the Cruciatus Curse.
The dead and shredded plants on the ground twisted and turned into a street lamp-like wooden high platform. Several vines flew up and turned into ropes to lift Crouch like a sandbag.
Neville dropped his wand and the steel sword in his other hand.
He punched Crouch on the stomach, and roared heart-piercingly: "Crucio!"
Another punch passed.
"Drill the heart and gouge out the bone!"
One sound, another sound, one punch, another punch.
On the empty Quidditch pitch, Neville's angry and crying roar echoed.
Crouch's stomach was quickly smashed.
Neville's fist was shattered by snapped, broken bones protruding through the flesh, but he continued on.
"Drill the heart and gouge out the bone!"
"Drill the heart and gouge out the bone!"
He was only one year old back then, so logically speaking, he should not be able to remember clearly what happened at that time.
He really can't remember.
But now, a flood of memories was pouring out, washing his brain.
Scenes at that time emerged in front of my eyes.
Crouch was still crying and whining at first, Neville's fists smashing his ribs, tearing his stomach apart, mashing his stomach.
Gradually there was no sound.
Wizards are not afraid of this kind of non-magic damage, but wizards lose their magic and are just ordinary people.
His breathing became weak, and the magic barely kept him alive.
But it also made him suffer longer.
"Drill the heart and gouge out the bone!"
Neville punched him one last time. He didn't know how many punches he had punched. The flesh on his fist was almost worn out, and the bones were almost exposed.
click-
Crouch's spine was broken and half of his body fell down.
(End of this chapter)