Hogwarts: Dumbledore reigned over the wizarding world.

Chapter 207 Power and Strength

Isabella looked up and saw clumps of stones trailing fiery red tails, piercing through the thin clouds drifting above the valley and falling!

The first burst of firelight erupted before her eyes, shattering the rocks where it landed, resembling a blooming flower. Gray smoke and intense red smoke mingled and rose through the forest.

A tall redwood tree nearby shattered, and the treehouse built around it collapsed and broke apart.

Following closely behind, more flames burst forth.

Everything happened in silence. About two seconds later, a deafening roar came as a sudden gust of air rushed into my ears.

Boom—

The earth was trembling. Lying on the edge of the gentle slope, Isabella felt her insides shaking. Her vision was shaking wildly, and the shockwaves spreading outwards stung her face and made the surrounding trees sway, almost breaking.

The unleashing of wild power lasted for an unknown period of time, which felt like an entire day to Isabella.

With the final roar, the whole world seemed to fall into dead silence.

Isabella shook her head, and dirt and fallen leaves fluttered down. Several werewolves, who had somehow appeared beside her, gripped their wands tightly and stared intently at the sky.

Isabella looked up, her pupils contracting sharply:

In the clear sky, where only a few wisps of white clouds drifted by, suddenly the sky was filled with countless figures riding brooms.

They hovered high in the air, many of them holding their wands high. The terrifying magical fluctuations from the mass spells they had just cast had not yet completely dissipated, and faint streaks of light could be seen in the air!

"It really is the Magic Congress!"

"What do we do now? Are there still people at the camp?"

"How should I know! FK! FK!"

The werewolves around her were venting their emotions noisily, and Isabella felt a little lost. She had just realized that she might have stayed in America for too long.

So much so that in the first moment of the accident, he only cared about himself and didn't think about Pandora or the two Aurors sent by Vaughn at all.

Damn!

Isabella slammed her fist on the ground, staring blankly at the wizards of the Magic Council in mid-air.

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How did they find this place?

What should we do now?

As Isabella hesitated, the surrounding noise suddenly intensified. Just as she came to her senses, she saw a werewolf lunging towards her, yelling angrily, "Vaughn Weasley must have betrayed us!"

"What are you talking about?" Isabella resisted the urge to raise her wand.

The werewolf was restrained by the other werewolves, but he still struggled and cursed, "Damn it, we've been hiding here for over ten days and nothing's happened, so why did the Magical Parliament's hyenas come knocking on our door the moment those two Englishmen arrived? It must be you, Vaughn Weasley! We're doomed! Those hyenas will catch us, our lives are ruined!"

Isabella was stunned.

I want to say something, but I don't know how to refute it.

Thinking about it carefully, if she were in her shoes and she were a werewolf, she would probably have the same thoughts.

But----

Her gaze swept over the struggling, hurling insults at the werewolf, and over the others who were holding him back, their eyes growing increasingly hostile towards her.

I suddenly felt like laughing.

Putting aside the question of whether the Aurors of the Magical Congress were brought in by Kingsley and Umbridge, is this really the time to be concerned with such issues?

To put it more bluntly, did Vaughn force these werewolves to travel all the way here?

They themselves saw coming to the East Coast as hope, as a lifeline. Even yesterday, they were still praising Vaughn and extolling WAC.

But when the situation turns against them, their attitude changes.

What a bunch of rabble!

Isabella sympathizes with the werewolf.

Just like last Halloween, she felt sorry for the student Iphamoni who dragged her into the vortex and had to flee in a sorry state.

Even though she often regretted her months on the run after that incident, her tender heart was still touched when the same people and stories happened again.

Even today!

For the first time, Isabella felt that she couldn't understand the world or the people in front of her.

Those faces were all familiar; after all, they had spent more than ten days together, fleeing together, hiding in this mountainous area, supporting each other, and being self-sufficient. Even the guy who was cursing her—in fact, just two days ago, he had shyly given her a flower wreath.

It might be a friendship, or it might be admiration.

But none of that matters anymore!

Perhaps, back in the training grounds, when Peters refused to obey Vaughn's orders and the werewolves sided with him, secretly drawing their wands, she should have realized that these guys weren't on her side.

Perhaps their fickleness is a result of the pain life has inflicted upon them, but that is not a reason for them to hurl insults and wands at her and Vaughn!

Watching the werewolves' gradually changing expressions, Isabella pursed her lips and ultimately said nothing.

Arguing is pointless.

She crouched back down at the top of the gentle slope, looking out over the valley that had been ravaged by magic, and then up into the sky at the wizards of the Magic Council who, after their sneak attack, had inexplicably stopped moving.

Then she heard a loud wolf howl.

"Awoo—"

—

Isabella looked in the direction of the sound, but all she could see was the lush green of the forest, and the sound was disturbed by the surrounding valleys, making it impossible to discern where the person making the howling was.

But she still noticed that the moment the wolf howled, the werewolves around her suddenly pricked up their ears.

Half-wolf werewolves have ears that have transformed into canine ears, possessing extremely keen hearing. In addition, the werewolf's howl is a kind of language, with variations and combinations of different syllables and tones conveying some not-so-complex meanings.

Sure enough, the werewolves became excited: "It's Peters! He escaped too!"

"He—he's telling us to retreat? To scatter and escape? Where—"

"shut up!"

The werewolf who had been angrily berating Isabella earlier interrupted the werewolf who was interpreting the meaning of Peters' howl.

Isabella withdrew her gaze, ignoring the wary looks from the werewolves, and looked up at the sky again.

Retreat? Or scatter and flee?

Ah!

How could those wizards of the Magic Congress possibly allow it!

The wolf's howl was desolate yet resonant, carrying into the air. The Thestral flapped its membrane wings, maintaining the hovering posture of the flying vehicle.

Looking down from here, the mountains resemble a chessboard, offering a vast view that naturally inspires a sense of grandeur.

Josiah Parker, beaming with pride, looked down at the mountains below and said to Donald, "Listen, the werewolves are howling!"

Donald lowered his head, his mind a jumble of emotions: "Yes, Mr. Speaker."

"I've heard that the howls of those wild beasts are a language, dear Donald. You're the expert, could you explain to me what they mean?"

Without resistance, Donald listened intently, as if resigned to his fate, then looked up at Josiah Parker sitting opposite him: "Sorry, I'm not a werewolf, I can only understand a little bit, it seems to be telling the werewolves to retreat—"

Josiah Parker smiled with satisfaction: "As expected, that's how beasts are. When faced with danger, their first thought is never to fight back, but to intimidate and avoid it. After all, they have no civilization, they don't know how to unite or gather a crowd, and they don't know how to use the power that comes with it."

Josiah Parker seemed to be in a good mood today; his aged face no longer showed any of its usual drowsiness.

He appeared so excited, as if he had regained his youth, that he stood up in the flying car, facing the wind and letting it flutter his robes.

He pointed down: "Dear Donald, what do you think that is?"

Donald's eyes were dark. He knew what the other wanted to hear, so he replied, "A cage you built yourself—after you discovered the traces of those werewolves, you devised a brilliant tactic and deployed dreamcatchers to disrupt the space of this area."

"Then personally command the wizards to attack their camp, forcing them to Apparate and escape. When they cast their spells, they will fall into your carefully prepared trap—the space disturbed by the Dream Web will naturally scatter the werewolves to various places, forcing them to fight individually and preventing them from forming a united force."

Donald remained expressionless as he offered compliments.

But it was precisely because he had no expression and no flattery that his words sounded particularly pleasant.

Josiah Parker laughed: "Hahaha—so, Donald, what do you think of my tactical skills?"

"Fantastic! Absolutely brilliant!"

"Hahaha"

His robes fluttered in the wind, and Josiah Parker had never felt so free as he did today.

He suddenly felt a sense of gratitude towards the mysterious Mr. DeSantis. If it weren't for the man turning Jack Graves against him, which severely weakened the Department of Magical Security, and if it weren't for the man using some unknown means to cause Michael and the others to disappear.

How could he, a mascot in Congress, have risen to prominence and achieved his current glory?

Josiah Parker opened his arms, and at that moment, he felt he had truly embraced the world and possessed the greatest power in the world—power!

Snapped!

He snapped his fingers.

A wizard who had been following the flying chariot quickly rode over on his broomstick: "Your Excellency Speaker, what are your orders?"

The wizard came from a small family, but was also a councilor. He had never paid any attention to the speaker before, but now, the other party's flustered figure and obsequious attitude were so pleasing!

Josiah Parker turned around, smiling, and asked Donald, "My Lord Security Secretary, if you were in his shoes, what would you do next?"

"————"

Donald remained silent.

After a moment, he sighed: "Next, all we need to do is further undermine their confidence, incite their anger or fear, make the brave lose their minds and the weak retreat, and then your holy army can defeat them one by one!"

"ha!"

Josiah Parker chuckled. "Did you hear what Minister Donald Graves said? Go and bring up those werewolf sentinels we captured. Let the beasts below hear the agonizing howls of their kind!"

One of the reasons Isabella didn't defend herself when faced with the werewolves' insults and hostility was that she knew all too well that any defense in the current situation would only escalate the conflict.

Once the conflict becomes public, it will not be a good thing for either Vaughn himself and Pandora, or for the werewolves.

The Magic Congress is watching them closely; at this time, what they need most is unity.

But why did the Magic Congress stop after launching that attack?

Just as she was wondering, Isabella saw several wizards break away from the formation in mid-air and descend to about 50 yards above the ground.

Then, they waved their wands to break the spell, and the two werewolves, who had been controlled, floated stiffly around the wizards.

The moment they saw the two werewolves, the surrounding werewolves erupted in uproar.

"It's Warwick and Cindy!"

"They were the ones who issued the warning earlier. Damn it, they didn't escape!"

"What are those hyenas up to?"

A werewolf asked in a trembling voice.

But in reality, seeing this situation, everyone had a bad feeling.

Not long after, the premonition came true!

In the air, the wizards of the Magic Council raised their wands, and the evil incantation, even from about 50 yards away, still reached everyone's ears: "Crucible!"

"ah-"

A piercing scream instantly echoed through the air; it was a wail that seemed to pierce the very soul. In fact, the Cruciatus Curse, one of the Unforgivable Curses, does indeed affect the soul.

That kind of pain cannot be exempted by training, nor is there a threshold of physical protection; it is an indescribable and unbearable pain!

"Damn it!"

The moment Isabella saw Warwick and Singira and heard the Cruciatus Curse incantation, she understood the Magical Congress's strategy.

Over the past year, she had become all too familiar with the methods of those hyenas; the resistance organization she had previously belonged to had been crushed and destroyed in the same way.

They always deliberately held back during attacks, not aiming to kill, but to wound. On the one hand, wounded soldiers could greatly damage morale and slow down the transfer speed; on the other hand, wounded soldiers who were captured would suffer all kinds of torture at their hands.

Not everyone has a strong will. Some people are inspired to fight and fight when faced with the cries of their companions, while others may have been ordinary shop assistants, housewives, or even recent graduates before joining the resistance!

The thought of their close companions being tortured to death only instills fear in them!

Isabella turned around and saw the werewolves beside her, as well as the werewolves in the oak forest behind her. All of them stared blankly at the sky.

The difference is that some people feel anger and hatred upon hearing those painful screams.

Some people were already trembling, even their hands were shaking as they held their wands!

"Calm down! Don't fall for their tricks!" Isabella shouted.

But just like a few months ago, with her still-large team, no one listened to her warnings and calls for help.

"Aww—"

Several mournful howls of wolves rang out around me and behind me, accompanied by whimpers of fear.

Screaming and crying.

Some werewolves turned and ran into the woods, while others completely abandoned their worries and, just like when they transformed under the full moon, lost their minds and roared like real wild beasts as they charged down the gentle slope.

And it's not just her side!

From all directions, the woods were noisy, filled with howls and swaying trees, as one werewolf after another emerged on all fours.

Mid-air.

Listening to the howling of wolves, Donald sighed inwardly, while Josiah Parker was filled with smug satisfaction.

Donald raised his eyes slightly and saw the Speaker laughing heartily. Those were his old eyes, but the turbidity and weakness of the past were gone.

Only cruelty and coldness remained: "The beasts are no longer hiding! Order the legion to attack!"

At his command, a dense rain of wizard arrows fell straight down, accompanied by the sound of wind whistling through the air, the chanting of spells, and an overwhelming surge of magical energy.

In an instant, it submerged this scenic valley and the surrounding woodland!

Finished!

Isabella slammed her fist on the ground, but dared not linger any longer, not even daring to dwell on her frustration. She hurriedly got up and ran toward the oak forest behind her.

Apparition is useless now. Rather than being captured by the Dream Web's distorted space and sent to the enemy, it's better to hide quickly.

However, the Magic Congress, which controlled the airspace, attacked far too quickly!

How can two legs running through the rugged woodland outrun someone who parachutes in?

She had only run a few steps when a sudden gust of wind came from behind her. Isabella hurriedly dodged, and a spell almost grazed her body.

boom!

A massive oak tree exploded before her eyes, countless fragments shooting towards her like arrows. She felt a few sharp pains, but Isabella had no energy to check on them. She continued walking, her wand waving.

"It flew here!"

With a concise incantation, several fragments were drawn towards her by magic. Without turning her head, Isabella cast another spell: "Rapid Fire!"

The fragments flew behind her with terrifying shrieks.

Bang bang bang!

Amidst the series of impacts and explosions, Isabella vaguely heard a muffled groan, but she dared not turn around to check the results of the battle.

She rushed into the oak forest, ignoring the werewolves who had run in before her and were attacked and killed by various spells that rained down from the sky.

Relying on her familiarity with this area, which she had lived in for a long time, she quickly found a tree hole and crawled inside.

A few breaths later, a whooshing sound came from the air, and a huge fireball blasted the oak tree where the tree hole was located to pieces, sending soil and debris flying and falling.

The chasing wizard paused for a moment, but finding nothing amiss, he could only angrily throw down a few more fireballs before soaring into the sky.

Completely unaware, after he left, a thin squirrel secretly dug through the soil, the powdery and charred remains of the oak tree, and crawled out from the pit beneath the roots.

This is animal metamorphosis from Vagadu.

As the signature spell of one of the world's oldest magic schools, Isabella has relied on it to escape danger many times. The only time she failed was when she was targeted one-on-one by a Federation Auror and was in an urban environment where animals had no advantage.

This mountain forest environment was practically her home turf.

After emerging from the crater, Isabella, who had transformed into a squirrel, dared not linger. She quickly climbed up the thick trunk of the oak tree, hugged her huge tail, and stared blankly at the battlefield near and far.

The entire oak forest, along with the surrounding hills, has been overrun by chaos and slaughter.

The shouts of wizards, the whooshing sound of brooms whistling through the air, the angry howls and cowardly whimpers of werewolves, and the roars and shrieks of spells completely shattered the tranquility of the mountains, dragging everything into a slaughterhouse of blood!

Explosions, flashes of light, and the hard stone was reduced to dust by the "shattering spell" that shot from nowhere.

An invisible blade silently sliced ​​through, and the running werewolf cried out in pain as it was torn to pieces.

Blood splattered and dripped.

But the werewolves were not without a chance to fight back. They leaped out from the treetops and bushes, their half-wolf bodies slashing down with their sharp claws.

A cold glint flashed, followed by a scream.

Isabella witnessed a wizard in a suit and tie, dressed in a typical American style, being pounced on by a werewolf along with his flying broom. He tumbled to the ground, leaving a clump of dirt in his wake.

When the dust settled, the wizard's neck had been completely severed, and his clothes were tattered and covered in wounds.

But the next second.

With a whooshing sound as a high-speed object pierced the air, the werewolf's upper body exploded instantly, shattering muscles, bones, and organs, splattering with bright red blood.

He was killed by a spear that had transformed and was launched by a spell similar to "volley of bullets," but when Isabella looked in the direction of the sound, the wizard who had launched the spear was gone.

The piercing screams grew fainter and fainter as they faded into the distance.

A gust of wind blew by, carrying with it the sweet, metallic scent of blood, the stench of entrails, and the smell of crushed earth and vegetation, violently assaulting Isabella's sense of smell.

She finally snapped out of her daze and instinctively wanted to escape.

But she quickly regained control of her impulse: "I have to find Pandora!"

She could ignore the werewolves' lives, but she couldn't ignore Pandora. But—where is Pandora now?

Isabella could only be certain that Pandora had most likely escaped from the training grounds as well, given that her friend's magical abilities far surpassed her own.

But where is she?

Beneath the thick oak canopy, a squirrel with a large tail looked around blankly. Judging from the howl of the werewolf earlier, the dreamcatcher had distorted space, causing everyone who had used Apparition in the training ground to be scattered around the valley.

Although judging from where they appeared, the distance between them might not be too far, in the current chaotic battlefield, the so-called not far is only relative.

Just as they were feeling lost and unsure of what to do, a long wolf howl echoed from a distant mountain range across the valley.

Isabella didn't know much about werewolf "language," but she could tell that the howl came from the same person as the one she had heard not long ago.

Peters!

However, unlike the previous meaning of "retreat," this wolf howl was filled with excitement, exhilaration, and bloodlust.

It represents "attack"!

Isabella hurriedly ran towards the gentle slope. Although it wasn't a very long distance, it felt like a great distance to her squirrel-like body at that moment.

As she climbed the gentle slope, she saw that on the other side of the valley, at the edge of the equally familiar woodland, werewolves had already rushed out.

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