But what responded to him was five overlapping spells:

"Expelliarmus!"

Five disarming spells came from different corners in front of Cyrus, and behind him was the closed Ministry of Magic elevator.

He had no way out.

Of course there is no need to return!

He didn't even raise his hands, but the air around him suddenly twisted, forming free electric currents that rose up like expanding hot air, forming a lightning shield that blocked the disarming spell.

Silent and wandless spellcasting, not even hand gestures were needed! Then, the current suddenly intensified, like tree trunks and branches suddenly exploding into a web, or like a group of flying snakes, biting the skin of the Aurors and paralyzing their bodies! The bright light of day was only a flash, and when the lightning disappeared, the five Aurors had already curled up on the ground, their muscles as tight as if they were petrified.

The entire hall of the Ministry of Magic has been completely changed.

The beautiful golden fountain had been broken into pieces, and it was spraying water all around like a broken shower head. The head of the centaur statue had also disappeared, and the broken bow and arrow smashed into the hat of the goblin statue...

Cyrus walked past the Aurors he had knocked down with his hands behind his back. He had no intention of killing anyone, otherwise these people would have been turned into ashes by lightning, instead of being paralyzed for a while like now.

As he walked through the long black corridor, Cyrus did not forget to wave his arms slightly to block the entrances to the fireplaces along the way to prevent a Dumbledore from suddenly jumping out.

However, Dumbledore might have returned to Hogwarts by now, and with the Auror guarding the Ministry of Magic knocked down, there might not be anyone who could tip him off. After all, his sudden attack on the Ministry of Magic was also a temporary decision, and unless Dumbledore was a prophet, he could not have predicted this.

Cyrus looked around the Ministry of Magic while walking to the end of the main hall, where the security check desk was. Although there were no other staff members here, he still honestly registered himself.

"After all, I, Cyrus, am not that terrorist Voldemort. I am a guest who walked in through the guest entrance with dignity!"

Then he threw away the pen and paper, clapped his hands, and got into the elevator again.

His destination this time was actually the Department of Mysteries.

In the wizarding world, you will find that there are many magics that even the greatest wizards cannot explain, let alone control. If magic itself is a miracle for Muggles, then the magic locked in the Department of Mysteries is a miracle among miracles! Even if Cyrus did not find the key to Vault No. 12, it would be a huge gain for him if he could study the secrets of the Department of Mysteries.

However, this difficulty is probably greater than refining the Philosopher's Stone.

The elevator started moving again, and soon it took Cyrus to the bottom floor.

What appeared before Cyrus' eyes was a very quaint and simple black corridor. There was only one door in the corridor. It just stayed there quietly, but it seemed to be whispering, tempting everyone who saw it to open it.

Of course, Cyrus knew it was a psychological effect.

He pushed open the door, and inside was a huge round room. Everything here, including the ceiling and the floor, was black, reflecting light like obsidian. It looked like a residence tailor-made for a dark demon.

There are twelve doors, except for the entrance, and there are eleven doors left that contain mysterious things. Cyrus knows the contents of seven of them, and the remaining four doors are completely unknown to him.

"Keys are flying!"

He tried the Flying Spell, but as expected it had no effect.

"It seems that I can only try one by one." After Cyrus stepped into this space, the door behind him closed by itself. Moreover, the wall with twelve doors inlaid on it quickly rotated like a huge turntable. When it stopped, Cyrus could no longer tell which door he came in from.

He chose the first door, and after pushing it open, he saw a tall and cold room filled with tall shelves, on which were placed gray crystal balls of various sizes. A few of the crystal balls still emitted a mysterious flowing light. But most of the crystal balls were like dead light bulbs, and the prophecies recorded in them had long been broken.

"The Hall of Prophecy?"

The Hall of Prophecy had no appeal to Cyrus. On the one hand, he had already known the prophecies about Voldemort and Harry, and there were too many other prophecies here; on the other hand, Voldemort's attitude towards the prophecy and his ending still gave Cyrus some inspiration.

Sometimes when you try to dispel a prophecy, you end up falling into it.

After leaving the Hall of Prophecy, Cyrus made a mark on the door. Sure enough, the wall started to move again, but with the mark as a reminder, Cyrus could clearly tell which door he had opened.

Then he opened the second door.

This is an extremely beautiful room, which is totally out of place in the dark Department of Mysteries. There is jumping light everywhere, just like sunlight shining on piles of diamonds. The light refracted by countless gems is very dazzling.

The walls were covered with clocks. The clocks were of different sizes and shapes, from huge floor clocks to small pocket watches. The whole room was filled with a rapid, endless ticking sound, like the sound of thousands of tiny footsteps marching in unison.

This is the Time Hall.

The Time Hall gave Cyrus a strong sense of oppression. In fact, he did not like listening to the overly rhythmic sound of the clock, which made him feel suffocated as if time was controlling his heartbeat.

But instead of leaving immediately, he walked to the end of the room and came to a bell-shaped crystal glass cover.

The light in the entire room burst out from this source, and the cover was filled with glittering air currents that were constantly tumbling and moving without stopping.

Time is abstract, but movement is eternal.

Just like the hummingbird's endless reincarnation, it goes on and on, like the rising and falling waves, from birth to death.

I couldn't sleep because of the cat at home at 5 o'clock in the morning, so I just got up and wrote some words. Now I feel dizzy at work. Today I will make up for Mingyue's extra update, and I will see if I can make up for Erdou's update tomorrow. In the future, I will post all the updates at 11 o'clock. It may be more enjoyable to read them in a row.

(End of this chapter)