Hp/Marvel: John Wick The Witch King

The principles governing a mage's magic often align with scientific laws. Take, for instance, the conservation of energy: to acquire a certain amount of power, a corresponding price must be paid. For a Hell Lord to manifest in the human world, the required sacrifices are not mere trifles; they demand a tremendous energetic cost. And who, beyond Agnes, could possibly fulfill such a requirement, if not John's own sister?

John's indifferent gaze lingered on the woman encased in ice.

Witches, in the popular imagination, are often seen as figures of bewitchment. Tales of absurd queens and kings ensnared by their charms abound, a notion that fueled the brutal witch burnings of the Middle Ages. In contrast to wizards, ordinary people—though physically weaker—wielded ingenuity and iron blades in their zealous crusade against the mysterious. They believed fire was the ultimate weapon against witches, and in a sense, they weren't entirely wrong; a witch ignited before she could cast a spell was indeed vulnerable.

This historical fear manifested in America with the Salem Witch Trials, a period that instilled in the nascent Magical Congress of the United States a profound caution and a policy of maintaining a respectful distance from non-magical society. Leakage of magical activity forced the Congress to relocate numerous times.

Even now, incidents persist where wizards, particularly young ones grappling with their emotions, expose magic to the world. Unlike their non-magical counterparts, wizards' emotions tend to be more intense, leading to volatile magical outbursts. This ingrained stubbornness extends to their beliefs; consider Mr. Xenophilius Lovegood, the renowned television host in the magical world, who steadfastly believes in creatures like Crumple-Horned Snorkacks, despite magical creature experts unequivocally denying their existence. Lovegood, ever the explorer, persists in his quest to prove the reality of his imagined beasts. If even such prominent figures harbor unshakable convictions, imagine the wider magical population.

There are also those wizards who, touched by human kindness, become allies to the ordinary. Yet, magic education itself has had its flaws, and contemporary wizards continue to face the repercussions of these systemic issues.

A Hell Lord wields immense power—a reality that was one of the underlying conditions of John's earlier agreement with the Ancient One. John had committed to resisting any covetous incursions from beyond their world. Yet, the summoning of this particular Hell Lord had slipped past the notice of both the Supreme Mage and the Wizard King. Such an event would undoubtedly require the extensive knowledge of both a wizard and a mage. Agnes's unique approach, blending both wizardry and magecraft, suggested she hadn't confined herself to the traditional magical community, achieving her current level of power through extraordinary means.

John, with his command of time magic, keenly perceived something deeply unnatural about Agnes—something she desperately sought to conceal.

"Your age," John observed, his wand tapping rhythmically on the ice encasing Agnes. "It's quite advanced, isn't it?"

Agnes's face, already pale from the cold, paled further with the sting of recognition. Her era was the tumultuous time of the Salem Witch Trials, a period of relentless hunting and accusation against wizards. This chaotic backdrop had prevented Agnes from joining the Magical Congress. Fortunately, her mother, a powerful witch, had taught her magic. This unusual upbringing in a tumultuous time had granted Agnes a unique magical development. Witches like her didn't need wands, as such items would only betray their identities. Consequently, her wandless casting was exceptionally potent, rendering a mage's Sling Ring a mere trinket in her hands. She was an accomplished mage and an equally formidable witch.

"There aren't many who can construct such a labyrinth against mental intrusion," John remarked, staring into her eyes. He was referring to the ability to construct a mental maze of deception, capable of fooling both mind-reading spells and truth serums. The last person he knew capable of such a feat was his former Slytherin Head of House.

His wand tapped the ice again. Agnes braced herself for death.

Unexpectedly, as the wand descended, the layers of ice encasing her body shattered completely, freeing everything but her hands.

"Take me to find that Lord," John commanded. With her spell-casting hands still controlled, Agnes was rendered helpless.

"You lack the vitality to regenerate," John stated, gesturing towards the shattered tentacles on the floor. "I advise you to remain as you are." His focus was entirely on Ariana now. Her location remained magically obscured, but John had a strong intuition.

"Wizard King above, I will deliver you to Azkaban," John threatened, rubbing his old wand. "You've surely heard of that place."

Agnes trembled, a flicker of raw fear crossing her face. Despite her initial display of malice, she seemed to default to a timid persona. Perhaps she had always been one to be bullied. She offered no resistance as John guided her out of the church.

All her meticulous preparations had been for naught. Agnes inwardly seethed at her own recklessness. The allure of John's magic had prompted her to target him too soon. She had believed her lies to be foolproof, woven from a convincing blend of truth and falsehood. The Hell Lord was indeed coveting Ariana, but Agnes had omitted the crucial detail that she had, in fact, struck a bargain with this very entity.

She didn't yet know the Hell Lord's name, but she had offered Ariana as the perfect vessel. Ariana's body, coupled with immense dark power, was the ideal conduit for the Hell Lord's entry into this world. This profitable arrangement had even granted Agnes some advance conditions, including the erasure of Ariana's magical traces. Agnes, consumed by greed, had attempted to sacrifice Ariana herself but was thwarted by a powerful protective enchantment on his sister.

After acquiring a certain magically laden book, her ambition became uncontrollable. The Hell Lord would, in time, consume Ariana's body, becoming the supreme entity to manifest in this world. Not even the Supreme Mage would detect a clue from that altered form.

Agnes had relaxed, even sending the book to Ariana's contacts, hoping it would be deciphered and draw more unsuspecting individuals. She had simply not anticipated John's arrival, a powerful wizard who had so effortlessly subdued her.

As a formidable witch, Agnes knew she was John's equal in many ways. Her initial mistake was underestimating him, seeing him as merely another wizard akin to Ariana. The Eternal Ice, which could freeze magic itself, had been her undoing. Agnes privately cursed her carelessness, her gaze subtly flicking towards John. As soon as she was free from his magical control, she would retaliate. She felt one of her hidden arrangements upon him—an unassuming origami rabbit. It seemed harmless, but its activation could catch John off guard. She would wait for her moment after John confronted the Hell Lord.

Agnes led John in circles around Westview. After the tenth time someone politely inquired about her restrained hands, John leaned in, his voice faint but firm, "My patience is not as generous as you think."

Agnes's smile froze. She understood this was his final ultimatum.

They circled back to a familiar street, stopping before the house opposite Agnes's own. "The house has a protection spell," she stated, her lips pursed.

Before she could finish, John pointed his wand. Click. The unlocking charm engaged, and the spell was effortlessly dispelled.

Agnes fell silent, her fear of John deepening. To so casually unravel a protection spell formidable enough to evade detection by the Ancient One herself was unnerving. John's easy display of power stoked the hidden malice in Agnes's eyes.

The door swung open. As John stepped inside, he felt an immediate, familiar presence. Ariana was here. And strong magical traces permeated the air. Given Ariana's immense, uncontained energy due to her Obscurus, the house should have been obliterated long ago. John glanced at Agnes, acknowledging the witch's remarkable magical prowess. Even he, the Wizard King, admitted that a straightforward fight with her, under normal circumstances, would have been challenging.

Following the magical signatures, John felt as if he were entering an external dimension. He slowly descended into the basement.

He pushed open the door.

In the dimly lit basement, only a single bulb above a bloodstained door flickered, casting an eerie, warm glow. The door was locked. "Open the door," Agnes said, her voice strained, "and you'll find Ariana inside."

"Alright," John agreed. Under Agnes's shocked gaze, he seized her head and slammed it against the door. Thud!

A grotesque lump swelled on Agnes's head. John's voice, unsettlingly kind, followed, "The door didn't open?"

He turned Agnes around, placing her back to the door, and delivered a powerful kick to her body. The blood-colored wooden door splintered, then burst open.

Agnes lay paralyzed on the ground, seemingly boneless. John regarded the opened doorway, then the pleading witch. He threw her inside. "You're a witch too," he calmly stated. "One for you, one for me."

Beyond the blood-colored door stretched countless other doors, receding into the infinite distance. As if roused by the commotion, one door cracked open, revealing a single eye that fixated intently on Agnes. Agnes's body contorted unnaturally, her bones audibly cracking back into place. She rose, bent into an inhuman posture.

John sensed something behind him. He turned to see the origami rabbit spring up, instantly transforming into a gaping, monstrous mouth that swallowed him whole. A flash of silver light, a cutting spell, sliced through the monster's head.

And Agnes, the true instigator, let out a sinister laugh. The eternal ice that had restrained her hands began to melt. This was only the beginning. Agnes, now free, harnessed the power of Hell. Purple energy converged before her, forming a magic circle. A beam of energy slammed into John. His Iron Shield Charm flared, then shattered after three seconds.

John, no longer there, had sidestepped the attack. He countered with a Blasting Curse, interrupting Agnes's spell and causing her nose to bleed profusely.

As John retreated, the space around them began to invert, twisting up and down. He glanced back at the blood-colored door. Among the countless previously closed doors, one now stood open.

And from it, a figure slowly emerged, like a soulless shell.

Ariana.

(End of Chapter)

***

[Check Out My Patreon For More Chapters On All

Of My Fanfics!!] [www. [email protected]/meowthtl]

[+500 Power Stones = +1 Extra Chapter]

[Thank You For Your Support!]