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Everyone’s eyes turned to Ian.
At that moment, Ian had already pulled out a few alchemy items on the spot. Using a tube, he extracted a few drops from the potions in the reagent to analyze them. When he looked up, he was met with the intense stares of the old man and a group of werewolves.
“Huh?”
Before Ian could voice his opinions, Lupin pushed his body forward, shielding Ian as he simultaneously raised his wand.
“Can your real body get away?” Lupin lowered his voice and asked with a serious tone.
“This is my real body.” Ian raised the item in his hand to prove that he was physically present. However, Lupin didn’t quite believe him, after all, he had seen similar things before.
“If you can run, I seriously suggest you do it now. They might not hurt me, but they would definitely enjoy hurting you.” Lupin’s willingness to sacrifice himself moved Ian deeply.
Before Ian could respond with the highest form of loyalty, like “If you die, I promise I won’t dig up your grave”, Lupin had already shifted his gaze back to the group of werewolves, who were eyeing them like predators.
“He’s just a child. You won’t even spare a child?” Lupin’s face was grim as he spoke, his eyes filled with a mixture of tension and vigilance.
“We haven’t sunk to the level of random killing…” The old man said with some helplessness. But after a pause, he changed his tone to something far more serious. “However, he’s not a werewolf. He cannot know this secret. Either he forgets everything he saw today, or he becomes one of us.”
For these werewolves who wanted to keep the Lucid Awakening Potion a secret, this was perhaps the best way to handle the situation, especially with so many people involved.
However—
Lupin clearly wasn’t going to let them cast a Memory Charm on Ian, nor allow Ian to be turned into a werewolf like them. Even if Ian hadn’t been entrusted to him by Albus Dumbledore, Lupin still wouldn’t stand idly by and watch a young wizard get harmed, not with his kind of personality.
“I must seriously remind you, Lucas, this child belongs to Dumbledore’s house. Do you really want to provoke the strongest wizard in the world because of this?” Lupin knew he couldn’t sway them by strength alone, so he chose to appeal to power. And in his eyes, he wasn’t bluffing, he was almost 90% convinced of Ian’s lineage.
“Someone from Dumbledore’s house?” The old werewolf Lucas immediately furrowed his brows at Lupin’s words. The werewolves around him looked a bit panicked, too, it was clear Lupin’s tactic of name-dropping Albus Dumbledore had worked well.
“He’s a descendant of Dumbledore’s house?”
“No way! I’ve never heard anything about that!”
“That hypocrite must be lying! There are no descendants in Dumbledore’s generation! My cousin once lived in Godric’s Hollow!”
“Not necessarily… could be an illegitimate child. There were cases like that in the Dumbledore family before… I heard back then Grindelwald had a Dumbledore by his side.”
“But that man is over a hundred years old, how could he have a kid this young?”
“You never heard the saying ‘the older, the wilder’? … My mom gave birth to me at seventy.”
“She still had a cycle at seventy??”
…
A group of werewolves, who had previously remained silent by the side of the elder Lucas, suddenly couldn’t help but start whispering and gossiping furiously under Lupin’s “threat.”
“Silence!”
It took a loud shout from the elder werewolf Lucas to rein them in. The increasingly absurd and off-topic chatter of the werewolves finally died down, though a few in the back still whispered quietly with their heads down.
After all—
Werewolves are still people.
And where there are people, there’s always a love for gossip.
“Just hearing what you said, how am I supposed to tell if you’re not deceiving us?” Lucas was clearly somewhat convinced, but unlike the other werewolves, he wasn’t so easily swayed, he had more shrewdness than that.
Even though doubts had begun to form in his heart, he still remained deeply committed to keeping the secret.
“Uh… werewolves don’t lie to werewolves?” Lupin tried to win his trust by appealing to their shared kind. But despite how sincere his words sounded, they failed to have the desired effect.
“Heh.”
The old werewolf, who had likely heard lines like that countless times in his life, simply let out a cold snort.
His expression remained incredibly stern as his eyes stared intently at the pair in front of him, his gaze switching back and forth between Lupin and Ian.
His eyes lingered the longest on Ian, deep and probing, as though trying to connect the boy’s face with Albus Dumbledore in some way.
“I need proof,” He said bluntly. “Don’t blame me for being so cautious. You should understand what this potion means to us werewolves. We can’t afford to let this information leak and lose our only hope.”
The so-called hope wasn’t spelled out explicitly by the old werewolf Lucas, but the weight of his words stirred all kinds of wild speculations.
“Hope? Meaning? You werewolves want to use your enhanced strength after transformation to found your own country somewhere?” As it happened, Ian was exactly the kind of person prone to wild speculation.
He put away what he was holding and suddenly asked this extremely out-of-the-blue question.
“Stop stirring things up, you troublemaking brat!” Lupin instantly broke into a cold sweat, heart leaping into his throat. He turned to look at Ian beside him, full of silent exasperation.
How dense did someone have to be not to realize the danger here? Was Hogwarts protecting its kids that well these days? There wasn’t a trace of fear or anxiety on Ian’s face!
“We’re not playing some child’s game here! You don’t even know if you’ll get out of this unharmed!” Lupin felt the need to remind the boy of the situation they were really in.
“Oh.” Ian nodded.
Perhaps it was precisely this casual, nonchalant attitude that made the old werewolf Lucas feel like he was being looked down on, because he immediately glared at the boy in annoyance.
“Your guardian isn’t wrong. If he can’t give me a satisfactory answer, I’m afraid today won’t be a good day for you; it could be the worst day of your life.”
The tone of old werewolf Lucas was openly hostile.
“Should I understand that as a threat?” Ian looked up at the old werewolf, who was glaring at him fiercely.
“You think I’m afraid of Albus Dumbledore’s retaliation? We’re people with nothing left. Even if you are from Dumbledore’s house, so what? What more could your family possibly take from us?”
It was obvious that Lucas was trying to put psychological pressure on Ian. But inwardly, his emotions were much more conflicted than he let on.
Ian had already sensed the mixture of fear, concern, and hesitation swirling in the old werewolf’s heart. And that was completely understandable, plenty of the werewolves here were in far worse mental shape than Lucas.
After all, any wizard living in Britain knew that the most dangerous force in this land wasn’t the Ministry of Magic.
The Ministry still had to follow laws to act against someone. The pure-blood families needed at least a pretext. But a powerful wizard with no attachments and no one to answer to? They could act entirely on their own whims.
Who in their right mind would want to provoke the greatest white wizard of the century?
“I don’t quite agree with what you’re saying.” Ian ignored Lupin, who was now tugging on his sleeve like crazy in a silent panic, and looked around at the towering werewolves surrounding him.
“Oh?” The old werewolf let out a scoffing laugh.
“Is that arrogance standard for spoiled little brats like you?” At this point, he actually believed Lupin’s earlier claims a lot more, Ian’s whole attitude made him look like a boy who’d been coddled and protected, unaware of how dangerous the world could be. The kind of reckless youth that usually came from self-important pure-blood families.
Which only strengthened Lucas’s conclusion:
Even if this young wizard wasn’t a descendant of Dumbledore’s house, he clearly came from a very privileged background. A kid from an ordinary family wouldn’t be this oblivious to danger.
…Unless there was something seriously wrong with his brain.
“Quick, show them your Phoenix!” Lupin had sensed the increasingly hostile looks from the surrounding werewolves, and panic crept into his voice as he urgently hoped Ian would produce some solid proof.
“You really think they’d believe it?” Ian replied softly, clearly helpless.
“…”
Lupin thought back to Ian’s Phoenix, the one with the wrong color, the wrong call, and a somewhat off appearance, and for a moment, he fell silent, unsure of how to respond.
“Besides… I really don’t belong to Dumbledore’s house. The Phoenix was just a gift from a friend…” Ian’s attempt to clarify his identity at that moment seemed incredibly foolish to Lupin.
Moreover—
Ian had made no effort to lower his voice, and every word fell loud and clear into the ears of the gathered werewolves.
The very next second, it wasn’t just the old werewolf Lucas whose face darkened; every werewolf nearby shifted their gaze, and one particularly short-tempered werewolf erupted in rage.
“I knew this hypocrite was lying to us! Another deception! He’s not one of us!” A sharp-cheeked werewolf shouted angrily.
Before the cautious old werewolf, who still wanted to figure out what “gift from a friend” meant, could restrain him, the young werewolf had already raised his wand and cast magic at Lupin and Ian.
“Diffindo!”
The young werewolf’s voice was loud and clear, his pronunciation crisp. However, the spell’s power wasn’t particularly strong, and the beam of light fired from his wand wasn’t very fast.
“Protego!”
Even Lupin was able to raise his wand in time to block it with a Shield Charm.
“Lucas! Are you sure you want to do this!?” Lupin quickly turned to the old werewolf, the leader of the pack. The old werewolf had already stepped in and forced down the hot-headed youth’s wand.
“We have no intention of harming you or the child you brought, provided you let us cast a Memory Charm on him. Or, if you prefer, you can do it yourself, just make sure he forgets everything from today.”
There was no doubt about the old werewolf’s strength. Just one look from him made the young werewolf lower his head. As he turned back slowly, his tone became utterly firm and uncompromising.
There was no choice left.
Since Ian had admitted he wasn’t related to Albus Dumbledore, the old werewolf saw him, at best, as a kid from a pure-blood family, not worth infecting or risking things over.
“We can negotiate other terms,” Lupin replied without hesitation.
“If you can offer another option that convinces us, of course. But first, hand over your wand. We all know your magical abilities aren’t to be taken lightly.”
Old werewolf Lucas didn’t flat-out refuse, but to Lupin, his words were as good as a rejection.
As a wizard—
How could he possibly give up his wand voluntarily? That would be no different from surrendering. Having something that made the other side wary was what gave him the power to negotiate. Giving up his wand meant putting his life in their hands.
“You know that’s impossible. A wand is a wizard’s life.” Lupin wasn’t about to gamble on it, he didn’t think werewolves had any better credibility than the pure-blood families.
“Then there’s nothing to talk about. Convenient, I’m not good at negotiating anyway.”
Old werewolf Lucas made his stance clear. From his tattered robes, he drew his own wand.
“I’ll erase today’s memory from both of you. And as for you, my kin, I’ll be taking back the help I gave you. I’m reclaiming the Awakening Potion I gave you earlier.”
As he spoke, he pointed his wand gently into the air. The next moment, a flaming lizard appeared from thin air, its entire body engulfed in roaring fire as it lunged at Lupin with its jaws wide open.
“Pretty impressive, honestly.” Ian still had the presence of mind to comment. And truly, for a wandering werewolf, to successfully transform a Fire-Making Spell into such a conjuration without an incantation was quite rare.
Even many excellent Hogwarts graduates couldn’t manage that, Lupin, for example.
“Confringo!”
Lupin had no choice but to fight back with an Exploding Charm enhanced by another spell. Two flaming magical forces clashed in midair, and the very next moment, an intense explosion rang out, echoing through the space.
The surrounding crumbling walls, under the intense magical crossfire, were reduced to rubble in an instant. Stones and bricks were blasted into the air one after another.
And then—
They rained down like a storm. Some werewolves who had never learned proper magic immediately panicked and scrambled to dodge. Chaos broke out across an area roughly the size of a basketball court.
“Roar~ Roar~”
Some werewolves, provoked by the disturbance, transformed on the spot. With furious howls, they began to grow thick patches of fur, their eyes turning blood-red.
Even their bodies grew more muscular, their enhanced physical forms allowed them to endure the falling debris. The pain only deepened the rage in their eyes.
Though they were still of mortal flesh and could be cut by sharp stones, their healing ability was astonishing, wounds started to close and regenerate the moment they formed.
Of course—
Their recovery wasn’t quite as fast as Deadpool’s or Wolverine’s, but those two didn’t exist, at least not in this universe.
Werewolves, on the other hand, were very real and fairly numerous in this world. The virus that infected them, in some ways, wasn’t without potential value.
“This kind of regeneration…”
Ian felt he had just discovered a medical miracle.
If werewolves could be bred in captivity and the infectious nature of their condition neutralized, wouldn’t that mean an endless supply of kidneys and blood?
Indeed!
What old werewolf Lucas said earlier was right! All excellent businessmen think about sustainable development, drugs that don’t cure diseases but control them are the best kind of drugs!
“I’ve achieved another breakthrough in my thinking.”
Amid the chaos—
Ian somehow still found time to have an epiphany.
Of course, werewolves were also charging in his direction, and some werewolf wizards had even fired magic at him, but he evaded them all with his masterful, snake-like footwork.
This was a young wizard who had seen his fair share of crises, handling a situation like this was effortless for him. He didn’t even draw his wand, which at this point was more of a decorative prop.
That said—
It wasn’t like he couldn’t use magic at all.
“Impedimenta!”
For the werewolves he absolutely couldn’t dodge, he used magic to create obstacles, blocking those who tried to grab or infect him.
“Don’t kill anyone!”
Old werewolf Lucas shouted, but very few werewolves were actually listening.
He had clearly lost control of the situation.
Even though the Awakening Potion allowed transformed werewolves to retain their rationality, the truth was that most of them harbored deep-seated rage and discontent that reason couldn’t suppress.
It might be considered a kind of “class resentment” within the wizarding world; many werewolves, seeing a young wizard who looked like he came from a privileged background, had the darkest parts of their hearts stirred up.
Their eyes gleamed with jealousy and hatred in the sunlight, as though something in Ian touched a raw nerve deep inside them.
“They’re bullying me just because my Magic Power is weak!” Ian helplessly realized he couldn’t manage to cast even a Kedavra Curse, no matter how many times he tried. Perhaps it had a lot to do with how pitifully little Magic Power he had been given.
Hmm.
Or maybe there was a “delay” from remotely controlling this transfigured body? Either way, when Ian tried to cast Fiendfyre, only a weak wisp of flame flickered out of his wand tip.
“This guy’s a weakling!”
Seeing this, the werewolves howled even more fiercely, launching into frenzied attacks. Their sharp claws glinted coldly in the moonlight as they lunged toward Ian.
“Guess I’ll have to use the most basic form of Magic Power manipulation.”
Surrounded on all sides, Ian conjured a glowing turtle-shell-like shield that gave off a soft white light, an idea inspired by a mage character from a game called Legend.
Original magic!
Simple, practical, and low on Magic Power usage.
The only drawback was that its strength depended entirely on the strength of the user’s Magic Power.
The werewolves slammed into the fragile-looking magical shield with full force. Each impact caused it to tremble violently, shaky and unstable, it looked like it could shatter at any moment.
“Damn it! Have you all lost your minds?!”
Elsewhere—
Lupin wanted to rescue Ians, but he was also overwhelmed. He too was facing a group of out-of-control werewolves, and even though old werewolf Lucas had stopped attacking, Lupin was still struggling to cope.
“Stupefy!”
Facing a suddenly attacking, transformed werewolf, Lupin immediately cast a spell. However, the werewolf hit by the magic only clutched its head and shook it vigorously.
Then—
It swiftly regained its agility.
“Roar!”
The werewolf opened its arms and howled toward the sky. Saliva dripped continuously from its exposed fangs, and it pounced again as if it hadn’t been hit by any magic at all.
“What incredible magic resistance!”
Ian, caught in the crossfire, sighed in genuine admiration. His magical shield looked like it was about to be torn apart at any moment, yet his expression showed no hint of fear or anxiety.
Lupin suspected it was because Ian’s real body wasn’t actually present here.
And his hunch wasn’t wrong.
“No matter where your real body is, run! Don’t underestimate a werewolf’s sense!” Lupin was certain that this unique sense among werewolves could counteract even a Disillusionment Charm to some extent.
“If you get out, be sure to have Dumbledore come back and rescue me!”
Worthy of being a top Gryffindor graduate, Lupin could still cast spells while shouting reminders to Ian. With a gentle tap of his wand on the broken-down house nearby,
The next moment—
The vines clinging to the walls seemed to come alive, turning into long, whipping tendrils that lashed fiercely at the attacking werewolves.
One werewolf after another was flung back by the strikes, and some were even tripped up directly by the vines.
The scene was total chaos.
Luckily, few werewolves among the group were skilled in magic; otherwise, Lupin would have had a much harder time. As it was, he could still just barely fend off the stray magical attacks flying his way.
“Impedimenta!”
“Diffindo!”
“Stupefy!”
Lupin fought steadfastly as a wizard, raising his wand the entire time, and even in such danger, he refused to use lethal force against the attacking werewolves.
“Senior, you’re basically Hogwarts’ Saint Mary!” Ian moved in close beside Lupin, raising his wand to help take some of the pressure off him. “They’re not going to thank you for that, though.”
Ian wasn’t wrong.
Even though Lupin was using his magic with as much restraint as possible, to the werewolves, his actions only seemed to grow more offensive. Their eyes grew more furious and hateful as they looked at him.
“You’re fighting for people who aren’t part of our kind! You… you’re a traitor!” Even old werewolf Lucas was roaring now, lifting his wand again to cast another spell.
Sensing the powerful magical energy radiating from his opponent, Lupin’s eyelids twitched uncontrollably. He had no choice but to grab the still-chattering Ian beside him in a desperate move.
“We have to escape!” Lupin immediately cast Apparition—
The next moment, he and the Ian he had grabbed vanished from the chaos, reappearing in a quiet, empty room.
…
Wool’s Orphanage.
The room where Tom Riddle had once stayed.
“Huff… huff…”
Lupin collapsed directly to the floor. His wand rolled away from his hand. His entire body was soaked with sweat, and the surging of magical power within him made him clench his jaw.
The intense battle, combined with performing Apparition while carrying another person, had pushed him to the edge, nearly past his limits.
There was no helping it.
Even among the top wizards at Hogwarts, most were considered excellent, yet their upper limit and magical power still fell far short of the realm of true genius.
“I’ve done all I can. If that wasn’t your real body just now, then you better start praying. I just hope I told Dumbledore quickly enough for him to collect your corpse while it’s still warm.”
Lupin finally caught his breath and struggled to his feet. But when he looked to his side—
He saw only a dry, shriveled twig.
“I knew this would happen…” Lupin wearily raised a hand to cover his eyes. This was exactly why he hadn’t used Apparition to escape right away in the first place.
He really didn’t know where Ian’s real body was hiding! The only thing he was certain of was that the brat was still somewhere on the battlefield.
Apparition—
An extremely advanced form of magic.
Very few wizards ever get the chance to even learn it, let alone master it. This naturally meant that the already “poorly educated” werewolves lost their target the moment Lupin took the “young wizard” and apparated away. These ferocious werewolves, having lunged at nothing, now stood around in confusion.
Their eyes still burned with the frenzy and bloodlust of the hunt, but now, they could only helplessly glance around.
“Where did they go?” One werewolf asked in bewilderment.
“No idea! They just vanished in a whoosh! Gone!”
“Damn it! It was Apparition! That cursed traitor can apparate!”
“They’re definitely going to expose our secrets! We’re done for! They’ll target us! Capture us for experiments! We’ll become the enemies that those pureblood wizards want to eliminate!”
The ruins echoed with the low, confused howls of the werewolves. They ran about frantically, trying to find any trace of Lupin, but it was all in vain. He had already used the mysterious power of Apparition to teleport himself to safety, far from this pack of werewolves driven by jealousy and hate.
“We have to get out of here! Go to Northern Europe! Or America!” The werewolves eventually came to a halt. They looked at one another, unwillingness and frustration flashing in their eyes.
And just when the werewolves were growing increasingly anxious—
“Don’t panic!”
Old werewolf Lucas stepped forward once again. Seeing one werewolf after another begin to return to human form, his expression turned grim and uneasy.
“This is all your fault! You pushed them too hard!” His voice was filled with frustration and disappointment, he had clearly known that Lupin possessed extremely advanced escape skills.
That was why he had been trying to talk to Lupin, hoping to convince him to cast a Memory Charm on Ian. But in the end, the very outcome he feared most had still happened.
“It’s Ryan’s fault! He attacked first!”
“Wasn’t it him who played with us first?!”
“Couldn’t you have controlled your temper? There’s a reason Jenny left you for me!”
“Damn it! So you’re the one who stole my girlfriend?!”
Ah yes, the classic post-failure blame game. Sometimes, unpredictability reveals hidden secrets that were supposed to stay buried, especially when tempers flare.
“You’ve got to be kidding me! Is this really the time for that? What matters now is that the Awakening Potion might be exposed. That could bring us real trouble!”
Old werewolf Lucas’s roar finally silenced the two who were about to start fighting.
“I remember their scent, we can track them…” A werewolf still in beast form raised a torn piece of cloth, offering a suggestion.
“If they go directly to Albus Dumbledore, do you really want to challenge that undefeated legend?” Lucas sneered dismissively in response.
The werewolves fell silent once more.
They were strong when banded together.
But to take on a mountain they couldn’t possibly conquer? Even they weren’t so reckless. Fighting for ideals was one thing, but dying for them was just plain stupid.
“Let me think, let me think… How can we fix this…” Old werewolf Lucas clearly didn’t have a plan yet either. He began pacing back and forth through the ruins.
The other werewolves, not known for their wits, could only look anxiously at their “pack leader.” They didn’t follow Lucas just because he was a powerful wizard—
They followed him because he was smart.
“I’m just worried now that your recklessness will really draw down Albus Dumbledore’s wrath… I hadn’t even confirmed that kid’s background yet.”
Lucas may have been clever, but he shared the same flaws as the rest. As he tried to think up a solution, he couldn’t help but grumble about his packmates’ impulsiveness.
“It’s all Ryan’s fault!”
The werewolves all pointed in unison at the one who had struck first.
“Damn it! Will you all just shut up already?!”
The hot-tempered werewolf was livid.
And just then—
“I can confirm it too. It was Ryan, oh, that is his name, right? Yeah. It was all Ryan’s fault.” A young, firm voice spoke out from nearby.
“Who’s there?!” The werewolves all turned, instantly on alert.
There was no place for children among their kind.
“You actually came back!?” Seeing Ian walking through the collapsed street, carrying several large bags, all the werewolves, including old werewolf Lucas, stared in disbelief.
What was this supposed to be? A lamb walking into a den of wolves?
Did he just have to walk into death to feel comfortable?
“Where’s your guardian?”
Old werewolf Lucas was the first to react. He looked around, but there was no sign of Lupin. Ian, climbing over a collapsed wall, really had come alone.
“Guardian, my arse. I just went to Diagon Alley, picked up a few gifts from some of my tenants, and then he went off on some grand adventure with the tool he left in charge of me.”
Ian dropped the bags he was carrying onto the ground. Gifts weren’t really gifts if you didn’t hold them in your hands and show off how popular you were, he only put them down for now to pull out his wand.
“Of course, of course, I still know exactly what just happened. After all, I was the one controlling the ‘tool.’ That’s also why I’m feeling a little annoyed right now.”
“Let’s run it back. I’ll definitely give you a different kind of… dignity.” Ian raised the elder wood wand in his hand, his gaze sweeping across all the werewolves present.
Finally, his eyes settled on old werewolf Lucas.
“If I remember correctly, you just said that your group has nothing, nothing left to lose? And I’m pretty sure I contradicted you, didn’t I?”
He smiled as he spoke, calm and pleasant.
“You planning to attack us?” Old Lucas looked completely baffled.
He glanced at the other werewolves around him who had begun transforming again, then looked back at Ian in front of him who seemed oblivious to the danger.
“Yes, child, we are people who have nothing left to lose. So don’t expect us to be like those people you’re used to dealing with, who cower the moment you blurt out your House name.” Lucas found the whole scene so bizarre and absurd that he could only chalk it up to what happens when pure-blood families keep intermarrying, producing children with broken brains.
“What are we waiting for? Grab him! That traitor who ran will definitely come back to rescue him!”
It was Ryan again. Honestly, this guy was practically the champion of rash behavior among the werewolves.
And sure enough—
With a loud roar, werewolf Ryan once again transformed and lunged at Ian at lightning speed— But before he got close, the ground shook violently beneath him, and he stumbled, crashing to the earth.
“What’s happening?”
“Is it an earthquake?”
“I feel like the earth is going to crack open!”
The tremors were like an earthquake measuring 8 on the Richter scale, throwing all the werewolves into a panic.
Old Lucas grabbed his wand, but his hands were trembling uncontrollably.
“What is this magic…” He looked toward Ian in disbelief, his voice filled with fear.
Above the shattered ground, Ian had risen into the air, the red cloak on his back billowing vividly behind him.
“Lucas! Lucas! His magic power… his magic power…” A female werewolf, whose eyes had clearly been magically enhanced and had stood beside Lucas all along, suddenly collapsed to the ground.
Unlike most of the werewolves, who still hadn’t fully grasped what was happening, her altered eyes allowed her to clearly see the immense, surging power flooding the space like a tidal wave.
“Jenny! What about his magic power?”
Old Lucas’s pupils contracted violently. He instinctively raised his wand to cast a spell, but then flames suddenly burst from it. The moment he saw the color of the fire, his spine turned ice-cold.
That was an enchanting blue.
“Damn it! Fiendfyre!”
Without hesitation, old Lucas threw away the wand that had accompanied him for so many years. He watched as it turned to ash on the ground, and yet he felt no anger.
Only terror. Panic. And… deep, overwhelming fear.
Silent casting.
Everything was silent casting.
“What are you, exactly!?”
Old Lucas suddenly stared up at Ian, suspended in midair.
And then—
“I saw a mountain we could never cross… Lucas… he… he could kill us all!” The female werewolf, still collapsed on the ground, spoke in a trembling, horror-filled voice.
“Yes, yes, exactly. Just like I said earlier when I disagreed with you, you do have something left to lose…” Ian tilted his head slightly, his smile pure and gentle. “That’s your so-called hope, and your lives.”
As his voice fell—
The trembling earth began to churn, as if a long-slumbering giant was waking up.
With a series of dull, thunderous rumbles, the soil and rubble on the ground started to roll and rise, gradually forming huge figures. They were made of clay, towering several meters high, hulking like giants.
The werewolves turned to flee in every direction—
But then…
The clay giants began to move. They swung their massive arms, delivering blows as heavy as mountains, slapping the werewolves with brutal force. Those fierce and savage werewolves now seemed small and fragile before the clay giants. With each slap, a werewolf was slammed to the ground, howling in pain.
More and more werewolves were knocked down one by one by the clay giants, falling like leaves swept away by a fierce wind. Even old werewolf Lucas, their pack leader, was not spared.
In the face of such overwhelming power, even transforming again and again couldn’t help the werewolves resist. They could only watch helplessly as they were beaten down by the massive beings one by one.
“Of course, I’m not a bloodthirsty person. Just like you once gave me two choices, now I’ll give you two as well. Either take your so-called hope… and die with it.”
“Or…” Ian slowly descended to the ground. He glanced around, then looked down at old werewolf Lucas, who was being pinned to the earth under the massive hand of a clay giant.
“…show your value.”
His voice echoed softly across the vast ruins.
Surrounded by a host of clay giants, Ian’s thin frame stood out starkly in contrast.
Ten minutes later.
“Whew~”
There was a fluctuation in space.
After relaying another message to Albus Dumbledore and waiting a while without receiving a response, Lupin, unable to shake his concern, returned fully armed once his magic power had recovered a bit.
But—
Prepared for the worst, Lupin found himself raising his wand in high alert, only to be greeted by a scene that completely froze his brain. He couldn’t begin to make sense of what he was seeing.
Under the dim, mystical light, a group of werewolves stood silently in line. Their silhouettes appeared large and worn down. These werewolves, once known for their strength and ferocity, now bore visible wounds, some missing an arm, some a leg. Though their eyes still held the glint of humiliation—
There was even more of a helpless submission in them.
“What… is going on?”
Lupin wondered if he had somehow missed Dumbledore’s arrival and decisive intervention on the battlefield.
But—
Just as he was searching for the figure of the old headmaster, he was stunned to see, standing in front of the neatly lined-up werewolves, a small wizard.
“Your silver Sickles.”
“You owe me ten vials of blood.”
“Your silver Sickles.”
“You owe me twelve vials, no helping it, you’ve got one extra arm.”
…
Ian was holding a syringe and conducting some kind of transaction with the werewolves.
As if sensing Lupin’s arrival, he turned.
“Look, dear senior, I told you before, gold Galleons are really useful. Even if there are some bumps along the way, I always find a way to make them work.”
The small wizard raised the pouch in his hand.
As if showing off.
“…”
Lupin found himself even more confused than before.
“Where’s Headmaster Dumbledore?”
He looked around but couldn’t find the person he was looking for. All he saw was old werewolf Lucas slumped in a corner, his face pale, clearly someone who had just been drained of a lot of blood.
“Who forced you to donate blood?”
In Lupin’s eyes, buying werewolf blood with silver Sickles was something only the worst kinds of dark wizards in Knockturn Alley would do. It was essentially the same as forcing werewolves to donate blood for free.
He had been deeply worried about Ian’s safety earlier.
Now, though—
He was starting to feel a bit sorry for the werewolves instead.
“Who is that boy? He can’t possibly be one of Dumbledore’s.”
Old Lucas didn’t answer Lupin’s question. Instead, he lifted his dizzy, blood-deprived head and gave Lupin a look filled with emotions too complex for him to understand.
“Hm?”
Lupin’s face showed even greater confusion and doubt.
“So, you don’t know either.”
Old Lucas read the truth from Lupin’s face. He sighed and lowered his head, his mind drifting back to the words spoken by the self-proclaimed Gryffindor youth.
“This potion will take you to… your promised land.”
In that moment—
Old Lucas felt as though he had achieved enlightenment.
But before he could truly grasp it—
It was clear he wasn’t quite as clever as the other werewolves had imagined.
(End of Chapter)
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