Harry Potter: I am the Legend

The sky cleared as the dark clouds receded, revealing a massive full moon rising above the horizon.

On the rooftops of the Arab district in Casablanca, a slanted airborne path suddenly emerged.

The car's exhaust rumbled violently, tires screeching against the gravel-strewn surface. The speed continued to climb.

60 km/h...

70 km/h...

80 km/h...

With a proper path laid out, Hoffa managed to push the car to over 80 km/h across the rooftops. The bright headlights pierced through the darkness as loose gravel scattered beneath the vehicle.

Meanwhile, below the elevated path, in the courtyards of several houses, dozens of white-robed Arabs faced Mecca in prayer, their chants filling the air.

Suddenly, an inexplicable engine noise approached from above, growing louder with each passing second.

The praying men looked up, puzzled.

VROOM!

With a roar, a red Alfa Romeo streaked across the sky above their heads, twin beams of light cutting through the night. As it sped forward, a twisting path of bricks and tiles materialized before it.

Dust and debris rained down from the sky, settling on the men's headscarves. Stunned, they froze in their prayer positions, their hands clasped, eyes tracking the car's movement.

"Allah above!""What the hell is that?"

Hoffa couldn't care less about the group of bewildered Muggle worshippers below. With a terrifying half-serpent witch pursuing him, he focused entirely on devising an escape route.

Ossivia, seeing through his intentions, let out a cold chuckle. As she slid forward, she swiftly removed a necklace from around her neck and, with a forceful twist of her torso, flung it ahead.

The emerald-green necklace transformed mid-air into a live snake. Initially the length of a human arm, it grew to nearly six meters upon landing.

It crashed heavily in front of Hoffa's car, rearing its head high before lunging toward the windshield with lightning speed.

"Damn it!"

Hoffa reacted instinctively, jerking the wheel to the side. The sudden maneuver veered the car off course, shattering a few rooftop flowerpots as it barreled through a grapevine-covered terrace. For a moment, the vehicle teetered dangerously close to plummeting off the ten-meter-high rooftop.

"You sure know how to play with snakes!" Hoffa yelled in Mandarin, his frustration boiling over.

Ossivia couldn't understand his words but shouted back in English, "Stop now, or don't blame me for what comes next!"

As she spoke, the green snake began to multiply. One became two, two became four, and soon there were eight slithering serpents converging on Hoffa from all directions, seeking to block his escape.

One of the snakes lunged up from a lattice window, sinking its fangs into the car door beside Hoffa.

"You won't control me," Hoffa growled.

He slammed on the accelerator.

The car made a sharp turn, and the green snake, unable to hold on, was flung against a rooftop flowerpot. Both the snake and the shattered pot tumbled down to the ground far below.

80 km/h...

90 km/h...

The path ahead continued to form rapidly, and the Alfa Romeo sped across the rooftops. After a series of sharp drifts, Hoffa managed to shake off the swarm of green snakes.

Behind him, Ossivia sneered coldly.

Though his speed was increasing, the red needle on François' magical wristwatch was dropping rapidly. Hoffa's magical energy was being drained at an alarming rate as he conjured the path ahead.

Worse yet, the rooftops ahead grew sparse. In their place stood a single, vast mosque with yellow-green domes.

Sylby, his head bobbing erratically in the passenger seat, suddenly shouted, "This is bad! Up ahead is the Hassan II Mosque! She's trying to corner you!"

Hoffa's eyes widened as he spotted the distant structure. Bathed in the moonlight, it was an ancient mosque with its yellow-green domes standing isolated at the water's edge, far from any other buildings.

He immediately understood Ossivia's plan. The serpents she had sent to force him to change course were herding him toward the towering mosque. Beyond its domes, there were no other buildings within a fifty-meter radius.

Hovering twenty meters above the ground, falling would mean certain death—or at best, plunging headfirst into the ocean.

There was no choice but to come to a forced stop.

What an insidious plan!

As the car sped forward, the green domes of the mosque loomed larger in Hoffa's vision.

Ahead was the sheer drop of the Hassan II Mosque's towering structure. It seemed like the only option was to stop the car.

Stop?

No way.

If he stopped, he faced at least two weeks of imprisonment. Summer break would become a nightmare under the watchful eyes of that terrifying serpent-witch. Worse, his future survival would be in jeopardy.

He could not go back.

Hoffa considered using Shattergrip to create a path downward, but his magic reserves were already drained. The road he was forming was growing narrower and narrower.

Even if he managed to pave a way out, Ossivia could simply use it to chase him down. It was a temporary fix at best.

Thud, thud!

The gaps between rooftops widened. The Alfa Romeo drew closer to the edge of the mosque's towering cliff-like structure.

Looking at the fifty-meter-wide gap ahead and the cold smirk on Ossivia's face reflected in the rearview mirror, Hoffa clenched his teeth and made up his mind.

"Hold on tight!" he barked, pressing Sylby firmly into his seat with one hand.

"What are you doing?!" Sylby, his face wild with panic, shouted as he saw Hoffa speeding directly toward the mosque. "Bro, calm down! There's no road ahead!"

Hoffa didn't answer. A glint of fierce determination flashed in his eyes.

He floored the accelerator, shifted to the highest gear, and pushed the Alfa Romeo to its limits.

100 km/h.

110 km/h.

120 km/h.

130 km/h.

140 km/h.

150 km/h.

As Sylby's terrified screams filled the air, the vintage car reached its peak speed in seconds, its frame trembling unnaturally.

As they neared the mosque's rooftop edge, Hoffa stomped on the brakes and jerked the steering wheel.

Crimson brilliance!

"Light me a cigarette," one soldier said.

"Sure."

"When's your shift over?"

"About half an hour."

"The captain's such a pain. Who would come to a place like this in the dead of night?"

In the plaza below the mosque, beside a few dragon blood trees, two turbaned soldiers sat crouching, rifles slung over their shoulders, chatting idly. Suddenly, a sharp burst of laughter drew their attention.

Startled, the soldier about to light a cigarette stood abruptly, gripping his rifle.

He looked up, weapon aimed at the sky.

What he saw next made the cigarette drop silently from his lips, landing on his pants.

In his line of sight, accompanied by maniacal laughter, a car spiraled into view, soaring from the mosque's rooftop. It smashed through countless tiles, framed against the enormous full moon, appearing as though it might ascend endlessly into the sky.

"What the hell is that!?"

Frozen, he held his rifle, forgetting to pull the trigger.

His companion, following his gaze, was equally dumbfounded.

"Why is there a car flying in the sky? Is this suicide?"

So stunned was he that the match he had struck ended up singeing his comrade's finely groomed beard without him noticing.

Crimson brilliance!

Time seemed to slow in that instant.

Under the moonlight, the bullet-shaped red sports car arced beautifully through the air. Driven by inertia and kinetic energy, it shattered the mosque's wooden beams at the summit, spiraling upward.

Ossivia, who had been coldly smirking during the chase, froze as her expression contorted in disbelief.

High above, inside the car, Hoffa was thrown sideways, his body pressed tightly against the car door.

Splinters and debris flew past him.

Below, the twenty-meter drop yawned ominously, and fierce winds whipped his hair into a chaotic mess.

Sylby, paralyzed and utterly helpless, fared even worse. His arms flailed like flags in the wind, whipping outside the window. His cheeks sagged against the intense gusts like those of a Shar-Pei, and his lips puffed outward, exposing his gums as streams of saliva arced from his gaping mouth.

"HAHAHAHA—AAAAHHHH!"

Hoffa, one hand pinning the hysterical Sylby in place, swiftly began converting his life force into magic.

One-fifth of his life force—converted to magic.

Two-fifths—converted to magic.

Three-fifths—converted to magic.

Mana: 8

Life: 2

As a wave of convulsions wracked his body, Hoffa went limp, almost losing his grip on the steering wheel.

Yet at the same time, a surge of vitality coursed through him, his complexion flushing red with renewed energy.

The needle on his magical watch spun back instantly.

Under the influence of his mental energy field, a massive stone hand extended from the rooftop over fifty meters away.

Time seemed to return to its normal flow.

Though it appeared slow, the events were unfolding with blinding speed.

The shattered wood and roof tiles, struck by the car's body, had yet to hit the ground.

Propelled by the force of inertia, the Alfa Romeo spiraled through the air, flying over forty meters before landing precisely on the narrow bridge. It spun 720 degrees on impact, carving a screeching figure-eight pattern with its tires as it slid onto the opposite rooftop.

Suppressing his shaky legs and dizziness, Hoffa forced himself upright. Pinching his fingers together, he tapped his temple in a mock salute.

Aimed at Ossivia, who stood stunned thirty meters away, he smirked grimly.

Then, clenching his teeth and pushing through his exhaustion, he quickly flicked the steering wheel left and right.

The Alfa Romeo roared back to life, fishtailing wildly as it made a series of sharp turns. Tires screeched against the rooftops before the car hurtled down the clustered buildings and disappeared into the alley below.

Ossivia, the serpent-witch of Slytherin, landed heavily on the ground. Her serpentine tail reverted to human legs as she strode furiously to the edge of the mosque's green dome.

From there, she saw only the fading flicker of the red taillights vanishing into the distance.

She glanced at the fifty-meter gap between the mosque and the opposite building and then at the two Arab men screaming in agony, their bodies ablaze in the courtyard below.

Lowering her head, her face turned an angry shade of green.

Even with Apparition, it was too late. She had not only lost her target but also her composure.

Ossivia finally realized she had thoroughly underestimated that boy—not just his abilities but his resolve.

On the high tower, she clenched her fists tightly, closed her eyes in frustration, and shouted through gritted teeth:

"What kind of person does this?!"

(End of Chapter)

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