Harry Potter: I am the Legend

The sound started as a faint tremor, like fingertips tapping against wood—barely noticeable. But soon, it grew to the magnitude of a hammer striking the ground.

The dark church tower shuddered faintly, reverberating with the aftermath of an explosion.

Moonlight streamed through the small windows in the walls, creating scattered patches of light on the floor.

In the confinement room, Chloe was startled awake by the explosion. Hugging her knees, she fought the nausea welling up inside her, trembling uncontrollably.

If this nightmare aimed to terrify her, it had certainly succeeded.

Faced with something utterly impossible happening before her eyes, Chloe felt her faith shaken to its core—a spiritual concussion.

She kept reminding herself: this was only a dream. Feeling shame and humiliation over such events in her dream should fall solely on her shoulders.

Yet, what frightened her more was the increasing difficulty of distinguishing reality from this fabricated world the longer she stayed here.

"What on earth am I even thinking?"

She clutched at her hair desperately, as if trying to drag those nonexistent wicked thoughts out of her mind.

She had no idea how long she had been locked in the confinement room—perhaps a whole night, or maybe just ten seconds. A faint voice called out from the small window on the wall:

"Hey, Miss Lemei, are you alright?"

Chloe slowly lifted her head to see a man with golden hair holding a lantern outside the window, his face half-illuminated by the firelight, his expression filled with concern.

It was Aldo.

"Sorry to frighten you, Miss Lemei," he said.

Chloe let out a breath, only to be overcome by a wave of loathing. It wasn't just the fright but the lingering shadow of recent events—especially here in this monastery. With bitterness in her voice, she said, "What are you doing here?"

"I promised Bach I'd look out for you while he was away," Aldo replied. "I climbed over the wall to get in."

"Why didn't he come himself?"

"He had something urgent to attend to."

"Well, you don't need to concern yourself. Stay away from me," she snapped irritably.

"That's not an option. The place is under attack," Aldo sighed. "If we don't leave now, it could get dangerous."

Chloe stood up, her face gradually turning pale. "Who's attacking? Is it you?"

"Yes, along with Muller, Mans, and their group. I'm sorry, Miss Lemei, but for your safety, we need to get you out of here."

With that, he pulled out a hacksaw and began cutting the chains on the door with force. It didn't take long before the chain fell with a clattering sound. Aldo pushed the door open, revealing his sweat-drenched face and outstretched hand.

"Let's go find Mr. Bach."

The eerie dream from the day before paled in comparison to the harsh intrusion of reality. Chloe could hear shouting near the guard room, along with the booming of cannons. A terrifying sense of impending doom settled over her—something she could foresee but felt powerless to stop.

"No need," she said, bypassing his outstretched hand and stepping out of the confinement room. Standing at a vantage point, she saw flickering flames in the distance. The sounds of cannon fire and gunshots were relentless. Groups of marauders carrying torches flooded the streets, surging toward the monastery.

This was exactly what she had last seen before Delphina took her away from the monastery. The next day, she read in the papers about the massacre at Terrail Monastery, where everyone fell victim to the dark wizards.

"Let's go. We don't have much time," Aldo reminded her.

The two descended the stairs quickly and made their way outside. Panic filled the air, but Chloe didn't see Sister Shanisa or Father Reed—only a few frantic nuns scurrying about, oblivious to Chloe and Aldo's presence.

Boom!

A deafening explosion erupted in the distance. The monastery buildings shook violently, dust cascading from the ceilings. It was followed by screams and curses.

Overcome by concern, Chloe instinctively ran toward the source of the noise.

"Don't go there!" Aldo pulled her back. "These are false memories. Didn't you tell me that yourself?"

The explosions and screams grew increasingly intense. The subconscious projections of the fleeing nuns swarmed in every direction, while thin streams of blood seeped from the cracks in the stone floor, inching toward Chloe's feet.

"From dust we came, and to dust we shall return," Aldo murmured. "The more agitated you become, the more violent this nightmare will grow."

"Easy for you to say. Weren't you one of the perpetrators of the massacre?" Chloe glared at Aldo, her teeth clenched.

"If you want revenge, I won't stop you," Aldo said calmly. "You have every right."

Suddenly, he began coughing violently. Silver fish-like creatures mixed with shimmering liquid slipped through his fingers onto the ground, wriggling and leaping.

Chloe looked at him, instinctively wanting to express concern, but she suppressed her compassionate side. Masking her emotions with a hard demeanor, she turned and walked away.

However, she hadn't gone far before her steps faltered, and she stopped in place.

A tall figure approached, clad in a black robe with golden hair, moving at a deliberate pace. In his hand, he dragged a bloodied corpse—a nun. Her face was twisted, her toothless mouth opening and closing soundlessly. Her chest was wrapped in blood-soaked clothing as she whimpered uncontrollably, her cries filled with profound terror.

It was Sister Vivian, who had been bringing her meals just recently. The brutal sight stung Chloe deeply. She repeatedly reminded herself that this was all an illusion, as if convincing herself could make it less painful. But she couldn't. Deep down, she feared it might have truly happened.

The tall figure drew closer.

Under the dim corridor's flickering candlelight, his features became clear. Seeing him, Aldo stopped coughing, muttering angrily, "Damn it!"

"Who are you?" the man dragging the corpse asked, his gaze fixed on Aldo, bewilderment evident.

"I don't enjoy torturing my victims," Aldo remarked to Chloe, ignoring the man's presence. "Honestly, those I killed in this monastery didn't suffer nearly as much." His words, however, only earned a glare of pure hatred from her.

Nightmare Aldo discarded the corpse like trash. "Wait, that girl behind you—is she Chloe LeMay?"

Normal Aldo immediately stepped in front of Chloe, shielding her.

Receiving no answer, Nightmare Aldo raised his wand, assuming a dueling stance.

Normal Aldo sighed. "I must admit, from a certain perspective, my past truly is disgraceful."

A beam of transparent light shot toward him. He rolled aside, narrowly dodging the spell, and sprang to his feet, tackling his counterpart to the ground. The two identical figures wrestled fiercely.

They looked the same, had similar strength, but one could wield magic while the other could not. As Nightmare Aldo lay pinned, he lifted his wand, firing a red flare into the sky.

Sensing danger, Normal Aldo bit Nightmare Aldo's wrist. It was crude, but effective. Nightmare Aldo yelped in pain, dropping the wand.

Normal Aldo snatched it, broke it in two, and backed away toward Chloe, nudging her forward. "Go! Leave the monastery and find Bach!"

Before his words fully settled, a shadow loomed. Nightmare Aldo, like a predatory bear, lunged and slammed him against the wall. "Who are you? Why are you impersonating me with Polyjuice Potion?!"

"You're nothing—not even a shadow," Normal Aldo said with a sorrowful tone. "I won't answer your questions."

Sching!

Nightmare Aldo pulled out a dagger, pressing it against his counterpart's face.

"If you don't talk, I'll carve off your face and see for myself who dares impersonate me!"

Locked in a desperate struggle, the dagger inched closer. Just as it seemed the blade would pierce his eye, Normal Aldo gasped, "You… there's… a bug on your shoulder…"

Nightmare Aldo instinctively turned his head. In that split-second distraction, Normal Aldo snatched the blade, flipped their positions, and slashed.

It was as if he'd burst a bag filled with blood. Crimson gushed forth as Nightmare Aldo collapsed to the ground, convulsing violently.

Normal Aldo looked down at his fallen counterpart, a complex expression on his face. He discarded the dagger and returned to Chloe's side. "Does this make you feel any better?"

"Death clearly means nothing to you people," Chloe said numbly.

"It's something one must learn to live with, Miss LeMay," Aldo replied, his gaze heavy with sadness, like a deep well brimming with sorrow.

Chloe slid down against the wall, her eyes red, hair disheveled. She sighed deeply. "Fine. You weren't the mastermind. Mans was. You were just following orders. Who am I to keep blaming you?"

After leaving the nun behind, Hoffa walked alone along the streets of Paris. Without magic, his pace was no faster than that of an ordinary Muggle.

Though he had lived here for over six months and was familiar with the surroundings, the dream world was vastly different from reality. After a long trek, he deeply felt the dream's bizarre spatial structure.

Heading north from Chloe's monastery, he traversed streets filled with bustling voices, neighing horses, and honking cars. He reached the city's outskirts, where no sign of life remained.

For miles, there were only industrial slabs of stone, piles of coal and slag, and other waste. Hoffa thought he could escape the dream, but the illusion shattered when he crossed a stretch of farmland, warehouses, and truck depots, only to return to the heart of the city where he had started.

It was as if the dream had read his intent and locked the map to a 20-kilometer radius. No matter the direction—north, south, east, or west—he always ended up back in the same cycle: city, factory, outskirts.

"So, this is all it amounts to?"

Confirming the dream's boundaries, Hoffa was undeterred.

Sitting cross-legged on the ground, he began to meditate. This wasn't to restore magic but to sharpen his mind. When he reopened his eyes, they were cold and distant.

The dream seemed to sense his change. Like a spilled paint bucket, everything melted and churned. The scenery dissolved into an inky pool, reflecting his own shadow.

But the reflection was aged and weathered.

"The past is not past. The future is not yet here," the shadow said. "Wizard, stop your advance."

"The heart of a wizard never halts," Hoffa replied. Without hesitation, he stepped across the pool and plunged straight down.

Beautiful, floating women appeared, their limbs outstretched, naked. They clung to him, licking his face, chest, and groin. Ignoring them, he watched as they turned into slithering snakes and dispersed.

Further ahead, he encountered a grotesque banquet. The guests were creatures with enormous mouths but no other features. They sprawled around overturned chairs and shattered dishes, devouring bizarre foods from across the world.

At the center of the table were a boy and a girl, alive, skewered on iron spits for consumption. Yet their faces glowed with the light of martyrdom.

As Hoffa descended, he passed countless sights of beauty, horror, and madness. Some shone with divine nobility, while others embodied pure chaos.

None of these illusions slowed him down in the slightest. He remained completely indifferent.

At last, he broke through the false dreamscape and arrived at the deepest layer of this unknown spiritual world.

Here, there were no streets, no factories, and no warehouses—just a narrow stretch of beach and an endless expanse of ocean, resembling the scene where he had first awakened on the shore.

He gazed at the sea and then looked behind him.

What he saw was a towering cabinet reaching into the clouds. Inside it were countless exquisite glass jars, and the islands, underground worlds, and supposed Paris he had experienced were like miniature models displayed in a real estate showroom, utterly unreal.

"Is this the limit?"

He stared at the ocean before him, lost in thought.

He meticulously reviewed everything he had experienced from the start of the dream until now.

Once he finished reflecting, he decided not to turn back. Instead, he began walking step by step from the beach into the ocean. The seawater gradually submerged his clothes, then his chest, and finally, his head.

Suddenly, the seabed broke away beneath him, and he lost his footing, plunging straight down into the deep blue water.

There were no fish, no coral, no seaweed, and no life. Yet, amid the desolation, he witnessed a scene that shook him to his core.

A massive, spike-covered arm floated in the water, swaying gently with the currents. The arm extended into the unfathomable depths of the ocean, its end unseen.

Hoffa continued to descend, deeper and deeper. At last, he could see the full form of what lay beneath the "island." It wasn't an island at all but an enormous creature. At first glance, it appeared humanoid, but it had four arms, and where legs should have been, there were ghostly, writhing, barbed tendrils. A single look at it was enough to elicit a scream.

What terrified him even more was the creature's head. Each strand of its hair was a serpentine sea creature stretching tens of meters long. Its head was submerged, unmoving, with a face that resembled a woman. But when combined with the monstrous body, it exuded a suffocating, primal fear.

Compared to it, Hoffa was no more significant than an ant drifting in the sea.

Was everything he experienced just a dream of this colossal being?

Trembling, Hoffa reached out his hand and pressed it against the creature's forehead. The texture felt like a rough mix of crocodile skin and whale hide.

The monstrous being's eyelid twitched and opened slightly.

Silver-white light swirled within its eye.

At that moment, countless images flashed before Hoffa's eyes.

He saw a bald woman smiling as she pulled a lever in a hall bathed in golden light. He saw an old man with white hair begging for death in a pitch-black cavern. He saw a world consumed by flames, with no survivors left in the aftermath.

Startled, Hoffa yanked his hand away.

The overwhelming flood of information tore through his mind with an agonizing pain, as though his brain were being ripped apart. Amid the pain, he felt an eerie sense of intimacy with the creature before him.

The intimacy was horrifying.

Summoning every ounce of his willpower, Hoffa fought back waves of invasive emotions and extinguished the terrifying compulsion to merge with the creature.

"This ends here."

In the water, he sighed silently, releasing countless bubbles, and swam upward with all his strength.

The creature seemed to sense his intent. From the bottomless abyss, it raised its mountainous arm, attempting to grasp him.

With a deafening crash, Hoffa broke through the water's surface. Ten minutes later, he stood trembling on the shore once again.

This nightmare ran far deeper than he had imagined. The creature's face bore a faint resemblance to Chloe.

"Damn it. What kind of secret are you hiding?"

After catching his breath, he glanced uneasily at the frothing sea before turning back toward the island.

(End of chapter)

Want to read the chapters in Advance? Join my Patreon

https://patreon.com/Glimmer09