Hogwarts' Golden Glory

However, the array's maintenance was interrupted.

Voldemort seized the opportunity, pointing his staff at Kane: "Crucible!"

A red light shot out. This time, Moody was too late to come to the rescue, and Igor's protective shield had weakened due to previous depletion.

Kane didn't dodge. He knew he couldn't—Voldemort's attacks were too fast and too precise.

So he chose to tough it out.

The wand was drawn in a circle in front of him, not as a protective charm, but as a strange, semi-transparent vortex. The Crucifixion struck the vortex, but instead of exploding or bouncing, it was absorbed, broken down, and transformed into a harmless turbulent flow of magical energy.

Voldemort's eyes widened: "Magic Disintegration? Impossible, that's—"

"An improved version." Kane gritted his teeth, blood seeping from the corner of his mouth. Forcibly breaking down the Cruciatus Curse's magic, even with Igor's assistance, had still impacted his internal organs. "Analyzing the magical structure of the attack spell, then using a reverse flow of magic to disrupt its stability. The principle is similar to dispelling a curse, but more... violent."

"You invented it yourself?" For the first time, Voldemort's tone revealed genuine interest, rather than mere murderous intent.

"It combines spellcasting, ancient runes, and the magical properties of Ig." Kane wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth. "However, it's still very incomplete. It can only decompose low to mid-level dark magic. If it's a fully-fledged Killing Curse, I can't decompose it."

"That's already quite impressive." Voldemort actually nodded, like a professor evaluating a student. "If you had ten years, no, five! You might become a real threat. Unfortunately—"

He raised his wooden staff, preparing to launch a stronger attack.

But just then, news broke that the direction of the werewolf civil war had changed.

Greyback dragged the young werewolf, ignoring his struggles and pleas, toward Voldemort. Behind him, seven or eight other loyalists each grabbed a hesitant or elderly person, dragging them along like sacrifices.

"No! Father, save me!" cried a young female werewolf who had been captured. Her father—an old werewolf who stood with Kane—had red eyes and wanted to rush over, but was stopped by Tobias.

"Calm down! Rushing in now will only get us killed!" Tobias growled, his wolf-like body blocking his way. "Trust Kane! He has a plan!"

"The plan? My daughter is going to die!" The old werewolf was on the verge of collapse.

Just then, Kane's voice amplified throughout the entire arena through some kind of amplification magic:

"All those willing to fight, heed my command! Greyback's bloodline is flawed—his vampire and werewolf powers are not fully fused! At the height of the moonlight, his magic will clash! The moon is now nearing its zenith; the time is fast approaching!"

Greyback whirled around, a look of surprise and disbelief flashing in his blood-red eyes: "You...how did you know?!"

"Because I've studied blood magic." Kane maintained his standoff with Voldemort while simultaneously giving instructions. "Vampires are cold-blooded, werewolves are hot-blooded. During a full moon, werewolf blood is most active, while vampire blood is most suppressed. Don't you feel like half your body is burning and half is freezing right now?"

Graybury's expression confirmed Kane's guess. His left side was indeed trembling slightly, and the veins under his skin were an abnormal bluish-purple; his right side was red, as if he had a fever.

"So what?" Graybury retorted, forcing a smile. "I can handle it!"

“But your men can’t hold on.” Kane looked at the werewolves who followed Greyback—most of them had also drunk the diluted potion given to them by Voldemort and were now beginning to show similar symptoms. “Look at them, Greyback. Look at Broken Tooth, his left eye has turned pure vampire black, while his right eye is still werewolf yellow. In this state, how long do you think they can fight?”

Graybury looked around. Indeed, his loyalists were all acting strangely. Some were scratching their skin, some were groaning in pain, and some had even begun to indiscriminately attack those around them.

"Hold on!" Greyback roared. "Sacrifice for our master, and we will all gain our full power!"

But trust has been shaken.

One of the werewolves, who had been holding a prisoner, suddenly let go, clutched his head, and knelt on the ground: "No... my head is going to explode... two voices are fighting..."

Then came the second, and the third.

Seeing this, Voldemort's crimson eyes flashed with anger: "Useless." He waited no longer, pointing his staff at the prisoners, "Since you cannot offer yourselves as sacrifices, I will take them myself."

Black magic transformed into a sharp blade, piercing towards the nearest captive—the young female werewolf.

"No—!" Her father rushed over in despair.

But Kane is faster.

Or rather, Igor is faster.

The phoenix took flight from Kane's shoulder, transforming into a golden streak of light and instantly appearing before the werewolf. It spread its wings, and golden light formed a shield. The dark blade struck the shield, but was mostly purified; the remaining force only grazed the werewolf's arm.

"Igor, take them away!" Kane commanded.

The phoenix let out a cry, and golden light enveloped all the prisoners and their relatives—about twenty people. The light flashed, and the next moment, they all vanished.

It wasn't Apparate, but rather Phoenix's short-range group teleportation. Igor led them to a safe point 300 yards outside the camp—a spot pre-arranged by Kane and Moody.

Voldemort's face darkened completely: "Your bird... is no ordinary phoenix."

"I don't need you to remind me," Kane said, sensing the fatigue Igor conveyed through the link—group teleportation was very taxing, and Phoenix wouldn't be able to use large-area magic for a while.

"Very well." Voldemort raised his staff, this time with no trace of murderous intent in his voice. "Then I'll kill you first, and then deal with that bird slowly."

Black magic began to gather, not a simple incantation, but a prelude to some large-scale dark magic. The air grew heavy, and even the moonlight began to dim.

Moody struggled to his feet: "Kid, he's about to unleash his ultimate move! Get ready—"

"No need to prepare," Kane said suddenly, glancing at the sky. "Because the time... has come."

The moment the words left his mouth, the full moon rose to its zenith.

The moonlight reached its peak.

The entire camp was illuminated as brightly as day.

Under such intense moonlight, Greyback and all his followers who had drunk the potion simultaneously let out painful screams.

"Aaaaaah—!"

Greyback collapsed to his knees, his dark red body convulsing violently. Frost began to form on his left side, while steam rose from his right. Two forces clashed wildly in his veins, tearing at every cell in his body.