From Hogwarts to Strixhaven.

Chapter 677 Guests at the Banquet
“Look at those knights!” whispers filled the Great Hall, but the Gryffindors were the most blatant. “They…how majestic! I wish I had armor like that…and a sword to wield…”

"The sword of Gryffindor?" another student chimed in.

“Yes! It’s Gryffindor’s sword…” Then he asked with a hint of suspicion, “It’s said to have always been kept in the Headmaster’s office… Do you think it’s possible that Professor Dumbledore might secretly take it out and brandish it when all is quiet at night? Who wouldn’t want to be a knight?”

"That knight in black armor... he has so many spikes! He's not very tall, but he's still quite intimidating... Do you think they can defeat the fire dragon?"

The delegation that accompanied Ivy to Hogwarts was quite large, and the Hell Knight's spiked black armor was indeed the most eye-catching among the group of splendid Crusaders, not to mention Regil's unusual appearance.

“He looks like Professor Flitwick’s relative… I heard Professor Flitwick was a dueling champion when he was young. Maybe people that tall have some kind of reputation!” Taking advantage of the opportunity to reach for the milk jug on the other side of the table, the student quickly glanced back as he stood up, but unexpectedly met the gaze of the dwarf Hell Knight. Those gray eyes were like a piece of ice from the Arctic. The student shivered and sat down.

"What's wrong with you?" His companion nudged him.

"Cool!" The student, frozen by Regil's gaze, couldn't wait to share his feelings with his companions. "He must be a seasoned expert! He might even be able to sing while using a mace to open a dragon's skull!"

Whether Regil can perform brain surgery on the dragon is unknown, but he certainly can't sing.

The delegation members sat at the long table in Slytherin, while the seats near the main guest area were filled with Crusader knights in full armor, marveling at the magnificent ceiling of Hogwarts Great Hall.

As a magical ceiling that can display the current weather and change the background at any time, Hogwarts has captivated the hearts of countless newly enrolled young wizards. Now, dealing with these warriors fighting on the battlefield is naturally a piece of cake.

"Are all magic schools like this, Sir?" Dark-eyed Movig asked, his mouth agape, "Look at those stars... I'm reminded of lying on a haystack as a child, gazing at the sky..."

Ser Koberon, a knight of the Eternal Radiance Holy War Army who joined the delegation halfway through the visit, and his squire Movig also appeared at the table.

They had previously made a fool of themselves in the castle, nearly drawing their swords against an innocent and kind student.

The old knight Ser believed, after seeing the photograph, that his and his squire's souls were trapped inside that piece of paper.

As a paladin of Iomede, Ser is very experienced in dealing with sorcerers. He only needs to call out Iomede's name and pray for her holy power to slay the evil heretics in front of him and save his own and his followers' souls.

However, his skillful prayers had no effect; Iomede's holy power did not fill his blade as usual. In that moment of distraction, the sword flew from his hand due to a spell that flashed red light.

The old knight at the table snapped out of his reverie and quickly and discreetly reached out to pull Movig aside: "Stop looking, kid! This isn't our world...and none of the stars in the sky are familiar to you...Iomede...she's not here..."

“Iomede isn’t here!” Movig exclaimed, his eyes wide, trying to keep his voice down. “I thought the gods of Glario could see everything…”

Although Movig's voice was already quite soft, those sitting with them were all battle-hardened knights, whose keen senses were merely the most basic quality.

The black-haired young man's exclamation drew displeased stares from several knights. The Crusaders sitting around the long table each had their own faith, but in this magical castle, no god could answer their prayers.

Movig's words clearly displeased these Crusader warriors who were under the divine's sway; however, this displeasure was more of an unease—an unease about the loss of divine favor and the loss of power.

The old knight noticed the gazes of the others, but he only glared at his apprentice and did not reprimand him further. Instead, he sat up straight and returned their gazes: "They, like me, can no longer feel the gods they worship... So you should be careful what you say, and you'd better stuff your mouth with that food."

“Alright.” Movig scooped a large spoonful of stewed beans from the plate with a golden spoon and stuffed it into his mouth. His eyes widened in surprise, and he reached for the bowl in front of him, pouring a full plate for his master. “Try it! I don’t know how long it’s been since I’ve had such wonderful food! Do you think they’ve put some kind of magic on these foods to make them even more delicious?”

The old knight was initially pleased by his apprentice's actions, but then he stared suspiciously at the spoon in front of him. After a moment's hesitation, he put it in his mouth. He disliked any witchcraft or magic: "Stop guessing. Eat your food... We need to take a good look at what kind of people the Crusaders are these days..."

"...They are all people who are willing to risk everything to fight against demons."

A reply came from beside the old knight. He glanced at the man, who was wearing a yellow and white priest's robe with light armor underneath. Judging from the insignia on the robe, he was a priestess of the Morning Flower Goddess, Shanri.

"To risk everything, including throwing one's soul into the darkness?" The old knight shoveled another spoonful of stewed beans into his mouth. He was starting to like this magical castle; at least the kitchen was innocent.

“No one wants to throw your soul into darkness, Sir Dandelion.” Amar smiled kindly. “Lord Doom is simply too busy to have a detailed conversation with you.”

"You know me?" The old knight sized up the Dawnblade Knights priest beside him, his guard slightly relaxing. "The Eternal Radiance Holy War Army is practically the best-preserved legion in Montevi. We are a vital force in the fight against demons... He doesn't even have time for a detailed chat with a legion commander like me?" "If you knew what Lord Doom did during the attack on Favored City, you wouldn't have such a question. In the battle against demons, mortals like us rarely play a decisive role." Amal added a few lamb chops to his plate. These chops, pan-fried in butter and drizzled with lemon juice and various spice crumbs, glistened with an alluring sheen of fat on their caramelized crusts.

"So, after his reorganization, mortals like us can play a crucial role in the battle against demons?" Sir Dandelion added a piece of steak wrapped in puff pastry to his plate. "He's turning the Crusaders into his private army. I really don't know what the commander appointed by the Queen is doing, tolerating his recklessness like this."

"The commander is busy painting graffiti on the stone rooftops of the city of Jueze, or leading his knights in opera rehearsals." Amar was practically immune to the unreliability of the official Crusader commander.

Ser's breath caught in her throat, as if she could see the Holy Army being paraded like a circus: "But he can't just accept the reorganization of the Eternal Radiance Holy War Army without saying a word! I need to see Her Majesty the Queen's seal, at least!"

“Lord Doom has full command of the Fifth Holy War. If you wish, you can request a formal order from his messenger, that little elephant.” Amar gestured for the old knight to look towards the main seating area, where the little elephant, Kuntorli, was happily munching on a large piece of steamed pumpkin at the end. “However, I think that as long as you verbally agree, the official written order will be delivered to your camp the next day. To be honest, I really can’t find any fault with the little elephant’s clerical work. He’s better than all three of our regiment’s clerks combined, not to mention that he also has to convey Lord Doom’s military orders.”

The old knight was no longer so resistant to the Holy War Army accepting the unified command of the Holy Crusade. After all, even a believer in the benevolent god like Shane had accepted the status quo and spoke highly of the Holy Crusade's military advisors. He had even begun to suspect that the spirit tower built outside the city had another owner, and that the Holy Crusade's military advisors were merely protecting that person.

“What are we here for?” Ser thought it was too early to back down, so she changed the subject. “Attending a dinner party with a bunch of wizard students? We can’t exactly recruit warriors from among them, can we? They’re all too young! There’s not a single adult among them.”

“No, we’re here to buy mounts.” Amal spat out a bone and wiped his mouth with a napkin. “Hogwarts keeps a large number of magical creatures, including winged horses. I’ve heard that deeper in the Forbidden Forest, they also keep dragons. However, Lord Doom explained that they are special local breeds, not real dragons that can speak. Just imagine, knights riding winged horses and fire-breathing dragons. Demons won’t be able to swagger over our heads!”

"These wizards tamed dragons? Even if they weren't real dragons, that's amazing enough..." Ser wiped the meat juice from his beard. "But how are the knights supposed to get along with these mounts? Developing a tacit understanding is incredibly difficult... With magic?"

“No, with divine magic. Lord Doom is a deity… the sun god…” Amal’s expression was solemn and serious as he looked at Ivy, who was listening to Dumbledore’s lame joke in the middle of the main seat, “He will be the Morning Blossom’s best ally… Perhaps the leader of this Holy War will no longer be Iomede, her successor…”

The lively atmosphere in the hall was abruptly interrupted by the doors that swung open to both sides. A middle-aged man with a round figure walked in, wearing a long trench coat that was quite different from the wizard's robe.

He burst into laughter as soon as he entered, spreading his arms wide toward the head table. Dumbledore, who was seated at the head of the table, also stood up: "Dumbledore! My old friend! I wish I could crawl out of your fireplace as soon as I heard the news, but the Ministry of Magic is always so busy... I hope we haven't disturbed your meal."

Fudge took off his hat, revealing a slightly balding head, and bowed slightly to the students lining the aisle (his large belly undoubtedly hindered the gesture). As he straightened up, he was surprised to see Ivy sitting next to Dumbledore: "Master Doom has really returned? This is truly big news!"

Ivy showed no intention of getting up, but simply extended her hand in invitation: "Have you had lunch yet, Minister Fudge? Come and have some more with us?"

“I won’t miss any opportunity to enjoy a Hogwarts feast. You have no idea how much I miss the kitchen here, and the menu passed down from Lady Hufflepuff.” Fudge strode over to the head table, shook hands with Ivy, and stood there waiting for his seat to be arranged.

The British Minister of Magic certainly didn't come alone. The Aurors who followed him into the Great Hall were already seated at the end of the long table. They couldn't imagine anyone who could harm the Minister of Magic while being surrounded by the old and new White Lords.

“I also brought other friends, all of whom are acquaintances of yours.” Fudge gave a smooth smile and winked at Ivy. “However, they have a small conflict that needs to be resolved a bit in Hogsmeade.”

He had barely finished speaking when two groups of people, neither willing to give way, squeezed through the main entrance of the auditorium. If the door hadn't been built grand enough and opened wide enough, someone would surely have kissed the door.

"Werewolves!" Ser, the old knight sitting at the Slytherin table, almost jumped up, because three tall, thick-haired werewolves had stepped into the Great Hall of Hogwarts first, making the wizards beside them look like children.

"Professor Lupin!" Many of the nearby junior wizards stood up to greet the werewolf leader, who responded to each of them.

The old knight then realized that the werewolf in front of him had actually been a professor at this wizarding school: "A werewolf as a professor? Even if you told me that there was a vampire in their faculty, I wouldn't be surprised at all."

The wizards who came in with the werewolves were the defectors led by Lucius Malfoy.

The two groups walked together through the aisle and arrived at the main seating area.

“Professor Dumbledore, Ivy.” Lupin nodded very politely, revealing a smile that sent chills down the spines of the young wizards in the Great Hall who didn’t recognize him. “It’s a pleasure to see you both.”

“Lord Doom,” Lucius said, not to be outdone, “I heard that my son has the honor of becoming your apprentice? This is truly the highest honor for the Malfoy family. There will be a banquet at Malfoy Manor tonight, and I would be honored if you would grace us with your presence.”

“Of course I’ll go,” Ivy said simply, “but only after I’ve finished my business. Professor Lupin is going too, and you can bring the Black brothers along as well. I’ll mediate your conflict there. For now, enjoy the Hufflepuff menu.”

(End of this chapter)