Hogwarts : leveling up the world

The creature turned all its heads from right to left, surveying everyone present.

"..."

'Damn, has that scrawny bastard not shown up yet!?'

'Yeah, yeah! The warrior's right! Where is that scum!?'

'I told you not to trust him!'

'...'

The internal voices argued among themselves, but the body and its many heads never took their eyes off Asmodeus and the others. After scanning all the wizards present, one of the heads spoke to the others.

'Sigh... We'll have to use the power of the divided faith...'

'What!? NO, NO, NO!!! We just learned how to use it! We barely practiced! If we do this now... when will we finally separate!?'

'Idiot, if we don't use the personal power of faith, we might at least win!'

'But we still have the shared one...'

'Did I say we wouldn't use it!? Come on, let's evenly distribute the divine power among the avatars.'

'....'

The subconscious conversation between the various heads happened in an instant, and the wizards, ready to attack, saw the body of the many-faced creature start to tremble.

Asmodeus wasn't one to give the enemy time to act, so he reacted first. A beam of emerald-green light shot out from Asmodeus' wand toward the central head.

Noticing Asmodeus' actions from the corner of their eyes, all the other wizards followed suit without a second's hesitation. If someone were watching this from above, they would have seen something like a web of green light converging on the many-faced creature in the center.

The many-faced god already sensed the threat and tried to hasten the process of splitting its body. Seeing the strange green light before its eyes, behind its back, and all around, the majority made the decision for the minority in an instant.

Just fractions of a second before the beams of death hit the various heads, they all lowered, leaving only one head above.

The green light enveloped the entire area, blinding everyone's vision. The sound of the death curse hitting wasn't anything unusual, but the head struck by the combined death spell of the archmages instantly displayed all the signs of life ceasing.

When Asmodeus and the others thought that everything had ended too quickly, they saw that the enemy's body hadn't stopped moving. On the contrary, the head that had been hit simply fell off and rolled away from the body, while the strange creature convulsed and then split into multiple bodies.

One was missing arms, another legs, and a third had nothing but a head. One of the heads had a torso but no limbs. A total of eight strange stumps rolled across the ground, emitting low growls. Seeing this bizarre puzzle of human parts, the wizards did not stop their assault.

Asmodeus, Dumbledore, and Grindelwald attacked with their favorite fire spells, while the others used their own methods of attack. And when Asmodeus' flames touched the head with the old woman's face, everyone thought the enemy had lost another combatant. But that wasn't the case. The old woman, lying on the ground with no legs and only one arm, suddenly turned into a swarm of worms, maggots, and flies. These creatures scattered away from the fire and quickly reassembled further from the center of the battle, once again forming the figure of the old woman, this time with all her limbs intact.

If Asmodeus had paid attention to the other enemies, he would have seen a similar situation with the other heads. For example, the head representing the Drowned God turned into a puddle and quickly retreated...

"Cough, cough... It feels so good to finally separate from those brainless fools... If it weren't a forced measure, I might have even enjoyed it."

Asmodeus' attention was drawn to the old woman, as he had suspected earlier that she held one of the leading positions in controlling this Frankenstein-like body.

Asmodeus was ready to attack again, but the old woman addressed him.

"Ahem, ahem, boy. Why do you fight us? I can clearly see the streams of faith flowing toward you. Though they aren't yet very strong, the convictions of those who believe in you as a god are quite firm. If you wish, I can teach you how to convert the energy of faith into your power, and you won't interfere with us gathering faith on this continent."

"I'm flattered, but I believe that one's own power is far better than the mere accumulation of others' thoughts and hopes. Therefore, I must decline your offer. However, if you are willing to stop gathering faith, my friends and I can offer you an apartment in the city of Adastra and all the necessary documents to start a new life from scratch."

Asmodeus had no interest in becoming the kind of god that these unfortunate beings before him had become—those whose minds were no longer their own but were governed by a multitude of believers' ideas intertwined into one. However, Asmodeus wasn't opposed to letting this creature go if they surrendered, though he knew it was unlikely.

Hearing Asmodeus' words, the old woman also understood that the chance for negotiation was almost nonexistent. The only way out for her and her comrades was to kill all the wizards present. But that would be far from easy...

'Damn, where is that scrawny bastard!?' the old woman thought to herself, giving the order for all the pseudo-gods and even the Ice God to attack.

The battle erupted once more, with all sorts of spells flying across the battlefield. The area where the fights were taking place became forbidden for both the army of the dead and the living.

______________________________________________

Meanwhile, on the defensive wall of the Black Castle, all the high-ranking officials of Winterfell watched the confrontation. Although the barrier above the castle protected them from even the side effects of the battle, they could still see that part of the magical army, not part of the Legion of Flame, had begun to retreat.

There were no losses, only injuries, but Asmodeus' order had been clear.

"Those who are not members of the Legion of Flame and are not considered soldiers must retreat in the event of an injury comparable to the loss of use of a limb. I don't need wizard casualties!" These were the words of Asmodeus when the wizards were taking their positions and preparing for battle.

As for the Legion of Flame—Asmodeus' personal army... well, it's safe to say that they were doing just fine. They were not suffering any losses and stood as a solid wall, allowing no one to come within 20 meters of the castle. However, the castle was being attacked from all sides, and the Legion of Flame had initially been positioned to the north.

On the southern side, where there were fewer troops, the undead approached the shield as the wizards retreated. While the undead would immediately disintegrate into countless tiny particles upon touching the barrier, there were so many of them that a few lone walkers managed to slip through the shield, though not in any fighting condition, of course. In fact, they lost mobility while trying to scale the walls. But as the bodies piled up, and with the command focused on the northern battle, they failed to react in time...

A breach occurred!

At some point, Sansa Stark heard screams from the inner courtyard and turned around.

"Ahh! The dead have breached from the south! Wizards, help!"

"Over here! The dead are coming in from behind!"

Chaos broke out in the castle, and all those unable to fight were being led to the dungeons. Sansa and Bran Stark, who was not used as bait this time, were also forced to take shelter. The brother and sister, under the protection of several knights, quickly made their way toward the entrance to the dungeons.

The situation inside the castle was quickly improving as reinforcements were redirected to the southern side, but stray undead were still wandering within the walls. Even with the presence of the wizards, the commanders decided to send Tyrion Lannister to the dungeons, as his physical limitations made it too dangerous for him to remain near the action. At some point, under the protection of Podrick Payne, Tyrion joined the Stark group.

In the chaos and rush, neither the Starks nor Lannister, let alone the ordinary knights, noticed the few undead quietly trailing behind them at a distance. Meanwhile, Frank, who was walking alongside the Stark group but hidden by an invisibility cloak, sighed to himself.

'Why the hell doesn't the Imperium curse work on these creatures!? I have to guide them with a levitation spell and a barrier instead!'

'Alright, alright... calm down, Frank, this mission was given to you by Lord Asmodeus! You can endure this...'

'Damn it, I'll have to carefully get rid of the Starks... But why is Lord Tyrion, whom Asmodeus values, also here!? He could've stayed on the wall under the protection of the wizards!'

What Frank didn't know was that Tyrion himself wasn't against hiding in a safer place. Thanks to his intelligence, as soon as he saw the battlefield of the supreme wizards, he immediately understood that the local battle had no real meaning except to buy time.

If the supreme wizards defeated the Ice Giant, then they would win here as well.

If not... well, it was better to be eaten somewhere warmer at least...

_______________________________

The group of Starks and Tyrion approached the doors of the shelter. Three knights stood behind them, including Podrick, while Sansa, Bran, and Tyrion were at the door. Tyrion quickly found the keys and inserted them into the lock.

Just as he opened the door, he heard Podrick's voice behind him saying, "Lord Tyrion! Quickly, get inside! We were followed by four undead!"

Hearing this, Tyrion wasted no time and opened the door as wide as possible to allow Bran's wheelchair through. While he and Sansa pushed the wheelchair inside, the battle had already started behind them.

Luckily for Fred, as soon as the undead got close enough, he no longer had to guide them with the levitation spell, and they attacked the right targets on their own. Watching the fight, Fred clicked his tongue.

'Tsk, tsk, tsk... I think Lord Tyrion would be upset if the undead killed his squire... Ugh, what a complicated mission you've given me, Lord Asmodeus!'

Grumbling internally, Fred silently slipped through the door and pointed his wand at Podrick.

'To hell with it. If anyone notices, I'll just alter their memories...'

With a flick of his wand, Podrick, who was about to swing his sword, suddenly seemed to lose his balance. He leaned too far to the left, and the momentum of the sword pulled him down. Tyrion's beloved squire and friend fell, and Tyrion wanted to rush to his aid, but Sansa quickly pulled him back.

Tyrion was about to yell at Sansa when, out of the corner of his eye, he saw a sword slice through the air right where he had just been standing. He swallowed hard, realizing that Sansa had saved him. One of the undead, for some reason, bypassed the fallen Podrick and was trying to break into the shelter!

He shouted, "Sansa, take Bran and go left! I'll go right and lead the undead away!"

It was unfortunate that Tyrion didn't notice that Sansa's eyes were slightly glazed over at that moment, and her movements were not entirely natural.

But fortunately, Sansa's speech wasn't affected, and she seemed to sincerely reply, "Be careful!" before taking Bran.

Hearing Sansa's footsteps fade and realizing she had disappeared around the corner, Tyrion let out a satisfied sigh, but he didn't dare relax. He quickly ran to the right, up the stairs, without looking back.

Perhaps due to the adrenaline coursing through him, Tyrion didn't realize that the undead hadn't followed him.

Meanwhile, as Tyrion sprinted up the staircase, the three undead had already taken down the three knights and surrounded Podrick.

'Lord Tyrion, I was a good squire!' Podrick thought to himself as he swung his sword at the trio.

Just as his sword was about to strike the head of one of the undead, Podrick suddenly felt an overwhelming fatigue and fell asleep.

"Phew, I'm so tired... I've been using all sorts of spells all day..." Frank muttered to himself. "Alright, that's dealt with. I probably shouldn't leave him like this…"

Thinking quickly, Frank immobilized the mindless undead with a binding spell and levitated the sleeping Podrick back inside the castle.

"Hmm… if he's just lying here without any visible injury..."

Frank pulled a medium-length knife from under his armor.

"Uh… maybe I shouldn't have skipped Professor Snape's anatomy classes..." he mused. "Well, I hope you survive, kid."

Without thinking too much, Frank stabbed the knife into Podrick's thigh, deciding that since there were no vital organs there, Podrick wouldn't be seriously harmed.

If only he knew that the blade had pierced just millimeters away from Podrick's artery...

But Frank didn't dwell on the moment. After securing the undead with a levitation spell, he followed in the direction Sansa had gone. How did he know where they went? He was still controlling Sansa with the Imperius Curse!

Rounding the corner, Frank saw two people: Bran sitting in his wheelchair and Sansa with a vacant look in her eyes.

Bran, upon seeing Frank, wasn't surprised and asked, "Who ordered you to kill me? Asmodeus? The Lannisters?"

Frank said nothing. He moved the undead in front of him and lifted the Imperius Curse from Sansa.

The moment Sansa regained control of herself, she realized something was wrong—someone had been controlling her! But before she could even gather her thoughts, she felt a sharp sting in her neck.

One of the undead had bitten her.

The Princess of the North instantly lost consciousness from the fear and pain.

Bran Stark, watching his sister's death, showed no emotion. Instead, he looked at Frank and calmly said, "Even if you kill this body, one day I will return. I am the one who will rule the North."

At Bran's final declaration, Frank only sneered contemptuously. Turning around, he walked away.

Just a few seconds later, when the undead had finished killing Bran and were about to roam the castle, they exploded like fireworks.

"Hehe, alchemy..." Frank chuckled to himself. He had handed the undead weapons earlier, but not just any weapons—these were enchanted to explode on the command of the spellcaster.