Hogwarts: Dumbledore reigned over the wizarding world.

Chapter 211 You have a legendary wizard? I have one too!

"Vorn, what kind of magic is this? Why are you unaffected?"

I witnessed firsthand how Vaughn took down hundreds of wizards with a single spell.

Pandora's eyes gleamed.

What surprised her even more was that the magic she had never heard of or seen before clearly did not distinguish between friend and foe. Like Fiendfire, once the spell was successfully cast, even the caster could not control it.

But just now, she personally witnessed Vaughn pass through that strange sphere and come to her, blocking the influence of the magic for her.

With her senses enhanced by the Extrasensory Charm, she could vaguely sense that Vaughn's raised hand created the same power as that large-scale magic, and then the two canceled each other out.

But what is the principle behind it? Why can they cancel each other out?

Did Warn use the same theory when he developed them?

Could that be the new direction she's pursuing in her spell development?

Faced with Pandora's intense thirst for knowledge, Vaughn, who had returned to his original position and dispelled the spell, smiled slightly: "This is a new spell I developed, the Infrasound Spell. Its function is to create and control infrasound waves. As for me being unaffected—it's not difficult at all. In Muggles, this method is called active noise cancellation. The principle is to use opposite sound wave waveforms to make them cancel each other out."

What is infrasound?

Pandora had no concept of this; the invisible voice was probably the least valued objective phenomenon by wizards.

This can be seen from the currently popular spells.

Whether it's a silence mantra, a noise-canceling mantra, or a loud mantra, they are all just interferences with the sound source, and never touch upon the essence of sound production.

Because wizards cannot understand how sound is produced—in their understanding, they have always held the traditional view that sound waves are independent substances, rather than giving them a precise definition of "wave" like Muggles do.

After explaining briefly, Vaughn looked Pandora up and down, and seeing that she was unharmed, he was slightly relieved and said, "You've had a hard time these past few days, Pandora. I'm sorry, the plan has changed, and we can't go find Isabella anymore—"

"etc."

Pandora interrupted him, "I've found Isabella, and she's been with me all this time."

She briefly summarized how Isabella was captured by the Magic Congress and how she was rescued by the werewolves who attacked the Auror stronghold.

".——..."

Vaughn was taken aback.

He had not been in contact with Pandora since arriving in North America.

After all, the Magic Congress is watching him 24 hours a day, and contacting him rashly would definitely expose Pandora.

Unexpectedly, Pandora, who was simply trying to gather the werewolves according to his plan, ended up saving Isabella.

"Just right? A coincidence?"

Vaughn frowned slightly but didn't say anything, instead asking, "Where is she?"

"It should be nearby. When you sent those two English Aurors with the letter, we were discussing it with the werewolves when the Magical Congress suddenly attacked this place. Everyone had to use Apparition to escape, but the space here has been interfered with by the Dream Web, and everyone's position has been disrupted."

Pandora continued, then reassured her, "But don't worry, Isabella learned animal shapeshifting from the wizard Vagado when she was training in Africa. The mountains and forests are her home turf, she'll be fine."

Vaughn glanced at the surrounding mountains and nodded. "I'll give you the manpower. Find her, then gather the werewolves back together. We're preparing to leave North America."

"manpower?"

Pandora was puzzled.

Then Vaughn was seen holding his wand between his fingers and tracing it across his face.

The strange sphere she had seen before reappeared, and wizards riding brooms flew out of it one after another.

She even saw a werewolf that had become half-wolf.

However, compared to why Vaughn was able to attract so many helpers after being away for a while, Pandora was more interested in the magic Vaughn was currently using.

It is clear that the strange sphere is a kind of spatial magic.

What intrigued her was why it was unaffected by the dreamcatcher.

As Pandora watched with curiosity, more and more wizards flew out, most of whom had already crossed the dimensional gate during the battle when Jack Graves betrayed them.

Of all the people in the crowd, only Nymphadora Tonks was experiencing this for the first time.

For Tonks, this was a rather magical feeling.

One second she was standing on the rooftop of a Boston hotel with others, enjoying the breeze; the next second, she flew into a tunnel with no end in sight.

There was no dizziness, no feeling of being stretched and flung around; it was as if I was just rushing forward and my vision suddenly changed.

She was already in the mountains.

This experience, so different from Apparition, made Tonks whistle involuntarily: "Cool!"

Lupin was also experiencing this for the first time.

However, compared to the carefree Tonks, Lupin's first notice was the strong smell of blood all around.

Lupin's half-wolf form granted him a keen sense of smell. He stretched his nose, which resembled a snout, and twitched it slightly, quickly pinpointing the source of the bloody scent.

In the desolate mudflats of the river valley, there were countless gruesome corpses of wizards, bleeding from all seven orifices.

Lu Ping was deeply shaken.

He was all too familiar with the way the corpses were dressed: trench coats, top hats, almost exactly like the Aurors of the Federation.

Without a doubt, they all came from the Magic Congress.

As for who killed them—

This is a question that doesn't require thinking about the answer!

Lupin couldn't help but look at Vaughn, who was waving at him and Matthew, who was following closely behind.

Calling the two to his side, Vaughn pointed at Pandora, who was curiously examining the dimensional gate, and instructed them, "From now on, you will follow Lady Lovegood's orders, gather the werewolves as soon as possible, and evacuate from here."

The two had no objections and bowed slightly to Pandora.

Pandora barely suppressed her burning curiosity and asked Vaughn, "And you?"

Vaughn gazed into the distance and smiled. "I'm going to do something I've always wanted to do."

Since coming into this world, Vaughn has rarely encountered any setbacks.

Although he felt that the peaceful environment had made the English wizarding world like a stagnant pool, Dumbledore's existence was both a protection and a suppression of the mountain of change.

However, it must be said that the peaceful environment and Dumbledore's presence saved him a lot of trouble.

As Essex once said, Dumbledore, as one of the most powerful wizards in the world, was both a misfortune and a blessing to the English wizarding world.

He suppressed the purebloods.

He ensured that the wizarding world maintained at least a basic level of fairness.

It wasn't until Vaughn came to North America that he realized how rare these things he had taken for granted were.

The purebloods' greed far exceeded his expectations.

His plans had to be revised many times in the face of the out-of-control, monopolistic power. Even so, these scavengers were still greedy enough to seize all the benefits, and for this, they were even willing to join forces.

"Essex is right, there is really no hope in this rotten place."

A wind, thick with the stench of blood, swept across the valley, billowing the hem of Vaughn's long robe, the soft curves of velvet swaying in the breeze.

He walked across mudflats, across ruins, and across woodlands riddled with craters from explosions.

Walk past the corpses.

When Donald awoke from his coma, this was the scene he saw: the bright red hair moving among the corpses.

Blood flowed into the river, its color staining the mountains and rivers.

The somber atmosphere of the scene could not be dispelled even when the sunlight finally pierced through the clouds and shone brightly.

The red-haired man approached, swaying in the breeze.

Behind him rose a dense swarm of wizards, soaring into the sky and flying towards the forest, their spells flashing.

Roar, explosion, screams!

It's just different from before.

The roles of hunter and prey have been reversed.

For a moment, Vaughn stopped a short distance away, but instead of looking at him, he looked at the person beside him: "Speaker Josiah Parker?"

Dede dede —

The sound of teeth clashing came from nearby.

Even without looking back, Donald knew that it was the esteemed Speaker trembling and shaking.

Donald tried to sit up, but the inexplicable magical attack seemed to have caused serious damage to his body. Even just thinking about it or slightly stretching his muscles caused intense pain to overwhelm Donald's consciousness.

He groaned, his voice low and hoarse.

Vaughn glanced at him: "The resonance of the infrasound has caused serious damage to your internal organs and blood vessels. If you don't want to bleed to death, you'd better not move around."

Infrasound?

Donald, who had studied science at a Muggle university, was momentarily stunned upon hearing this obscure name.

After giving him his instructions, Vaughn looked at the old wizard beside him again, his smile gentle: "Hello, Speaker Parker, I didn't expect we would meet under such circumstances."

"You—you—"

The excruciating pain and fear rendered Josiah Parker barely able to speak a complete sentence.

Seeing his pale face, Vaughn considerately opened his satchel, took out two bottles of potions, and poured them down the throats of Donald and Speaker Parker before continuing, "If it weren't for the pure-blood families being too greedy and constantly obstructing me, I should have visited you in Woolworth the moment I arrived in America."

Two bottles of potions are not particularly rare.

It's just a white safflower essence that can heal injuries.

But even the simplest medicine, when brewed by a potion master like Vaughn, will exhibit quite magical effects.

In just a few breaths, Donald and Josiah Parker felt the excruciating pain in their bodies rapidly subsiding, and the near-death experience that was almost overwhelming their consciousness was also greatly reduced.

As soon as he regained his strength, Josiah Parker hurriedly said, "Yes, dear Mr. Weasley, it's all the greed of the pure-blood families at work. Merlin, they forced an old man like me to lead this army composed of private soldiers drawn from various families to attack your werewolves. I—I can't fight them—"

Donald glanced sideways and couldn't help but sneer, "Ha!"

Josiah Parker didn't dare turn around to look at him, but instead gazed earnestly at Vaughn: "Fortunately, you appeared here, and possess such powerful magic—"

The conversation wasn't over yet.

Vaughn interrupted him, smiling, and said, "Dear Speaker Parker, have you ever thought carefully about how you managed to find the werewolves' hiding place?"

"Uh—we were dispatched by you—"

Josiah Parker abruptly stopped speaking.

He stared wide-eyed at Vaughn in astonishment and horror.

Vaughn nodded slightly: "That's right, I deliberately sent someone to bring you here. It wasn't a particularly clever strategy, but you still fell for it because of your arrogance and greed. However, it's precisely because you came, because you brought slaughter, that I solved the problem of the werewolves possibly not wanting to come with me. In any case, I must say thank you!"

In the blink of an eye, many thoughts flashed through Josiah Parker's mind.

They eventually converged into a moment of enlightenment:

His own plans and conspiracies with the purebloods were always under Vaughn Weasley's control.

Only when the other party understands their every move can they provide the information they urgently need at the right time and in the right way, and then lure them here!

He suddenly turned around and stared intently at Donald Graves, who had remained silent ever since Vaughn arrived.

"It's you—"

Donald's eyelids were lowered.

"Don't be too harsh on him, dear Speaker Parker. Donald didn't betray you. He was just deeply worried about your arrogance and gave me a little information so that you wouldn't go further down the wrong path."

Vaughn looked pleased. If there was one thing that satisfied him about this trip to North America, it was probably discovering the talent of Donald Graves.

He waved his wand, helping Donald Graves to his feet, and said, "Donald, have you made up your mind?"

Donald gave a wry smile.

Looking around at the valley filled with blood and corpses, in the distance, in the jungle, among the lush canopy, were the wizards of WAC, and the screams that rose and fell.

Then he glanced at Josiah Parker beside him, whose expression was strange.

Does he still have a choice?

"I've made up my mind." The slowly taking effect of the potion gave Donald some strength, and he struggled to bow his head to Vaughn: "I am willing to serve under you and follow you to England, Mr. Weasley—"

After he finished speaking, he inexplicably felt as if he had let go of some heavy burden.

This is probably what it feels like to cross the line!

From now on, I will no longer have to work hard for the family and be exploited by it.

They no longer need to be mascots, facing a group of old male and female witches all day long, reciting pre-written clichés, not daring to deviate even slightly.

Thinking about it carefully, it's not such a bad thing after all.

Vaughn was pleased with Donald's capitulation: "You made the right choice, dear Donald. Go, go find Lupin and Matthew."

"Yes."

Donald agreed and staggered away.

Vaughn's gaze returned to Josiah Parker: "Donald has made his choice. What about you, Speaker Parker?"

Josiah Parker's lips trembled, and after a brief hesitation, he threw himself at Vaughn's feet and kissed his shoes: "Dear Mr. Weasley, I am also willing to join you—"

boom!

A tremendous force propelled him forward, and Josiah Parker cried out in pain as he was thrown to the side.

His injuries, which had just begun to heal, deteriorated again, and he coughed up a mouthful of blood.

But Josiah Parker seemed to forget the pain in his body, and he looked at Vaughn in fear.

Why?

Why is the other party unwilling to accept him?

Seeing his confusion, Vaughn lightly toyed with his wand: "I heard that you orchestrated this operation, and that the 12 purebloods and the Pureblood Alliance have temporarily succumbed to your power, is that right?"

"I—" Josiah Parker wanted to argue, but looking into Vaughn's deep, bright blue eyes, he couldn't bring himself to tell a lie.

Only his eyes revealed increasing fear.

"You—you can't kill me—"

Vaughn seemed not to hear his trembling whisper: "Since I came to America, every day I've grown more and more disgusted with this land, and that's all because of you—Graves, Wilkinson—Rappaport, and you—each of you wants to snatch WAC from me. Nobody asked my opinion. Why?"

"You can't kill me—the Speaker has a contract—"

"I know why. Because I didn't show any strength, you thought I was weak. Sigh, that's how it is when you have no foundation—tired and constrained. —The good news is, I finally don't have to worry about so much anymore!"

"Please, don't kill me! You can't kill me! I'm the Speaker! I'm bound by a contract made by a legendary wizard! Killing me won't get you any better!"

The wand that was spinning between Vaughn's fingers suddenly stopped.

A glimmer of light appeared.

Accompanying this was Vaughn's suddenly indifferent voice: "It doesn't matter, you have legendary wizards, and so do I—"

"The divine blade is invisible!"

puff!

An invisible force swept past, instantly piercing Josiah Parker's old and emaciated chest.

He stared wide-eyed in despair, unable to stop his consciousness from sinking into darkness. Before he was completely swallowed by darkness, he heard Vaughn Weasley whisper, "Since you ignore my power, then I will show you!"

puff!

The sound of the curse piercing flesh made Donald's back tremble as he walked a short distance away.

He stopped and turned slightly, seeing Vaughn's wand, held between his fingers, slowly fading away beside the crashed flying car.

Beneath his feet, Josiah Parker, the Speaker of the Magical Congress of America and the leader of the North American magical community, slowly lowered his hand, which had been stretched towards the sky like a withered tree branch.

Blood stained his chest, and his open mouth let out a long, final breath, like a balloon deflating.

That was the rest of his life.

The Sense8 spell, which was still active, allowed Donald to still see Speaker Parker's eyes, which were gazing at the sky and reflecting the clouds.

The clouds obscured the sun for a moment, and when they shone again, the eyes had lost their luster.

Donald's feelings were mixed. Not long ago, Josiah Parker was telling him about his ambitions, speaking passionately and full of vigor in the car.

In the blink of an eye, all of that vanished.

Of course, he was just feeling sentimental, for the drama of reality and the capriciousness of fate.

The main reason he stopped walking was because of what Josiah Park said before he died.

Looking away from Speaker Parker's body, Donald noticed that Vaughn Weasley had been staring at the sky ever since he killed Speaker Parker.

He looked up and saw nothing there.

"Mr. Weasley?" Donald cautiously called out.

"Um?"

Vaughn turned around, and the faint magical light in his eyes made Donald feel as if he were naked and exposed in the wilderness, a feeling of being "pierced" rising in his heart.

He knew it must be some kind of detection magic.

Donald wisely suppressed his instinctive urge to spy on magic, lowering his eyelids: "Josiah Parker is not lying. Every president of the Magic Council has signed an agreement with a legendary wizard in America. This is a tradition that has continued for more than 200 years since the Wilkinson family produced the first legendary wizard in American history."

Vaughn tilted his head. "Surveillance? Or control?"

He didn't think the so-called "agreement" had any protective meaning.

Some time ago, in order to investigate DeSantis's true identity, Vaughn specifically learned about the deeds of legendary wizards from other countries.

After reading it, Vaughn felt he needed to apologize to Tom.

I've been misunderstanding him all along. It turns out that in the legendary wizards, the extremists like Tom are the normal ones. On the contrary, Dumbledore and Grindelwald, who are always entangled in worldly affairs, are the outliers.

Dumbledore once said that to become a legendary wizard, one must go through the legendary path, on which the wizard completes a transformation from the inside out.

At the time, Vaughn thought that Dumbledore's "transformation" referred to a leap in strength.

Now he understood. Old Deng was referring to a wizard who had entered the legendary realm, a person whose entire being had changed—not just in strength and level of existence, but also in their thoughts, beliefs, and even habits.

In short, in the eyes of most legends, ordinary wizards are like Muggles in the eyes of pure-bloods; they do not consider the two to be the same species at all.

If a person raises a colony of ants, would he care about the safety of the "ant queen" elected by that colony?

At most, he'll come and take a look after the "King of Ants" dies!

Vaughn raised his head and looked up at the sky again.

In his eyes, the sky seemed to have cracked open.

Countless magnificent, illusory curtains emerged from it, twisting and falling.

Sweeping from the sky to the ground.

Covering mountains and valleys.

They split and merge, intertwining, gliding over rocks, drifting across rivers, undulating in the canopy, and dancing in the sunlight and mist.

Despite the magnificent and extraordinary sight, Donald remained completely oblivious, simply replying as Vaughn had guessed moments before: "Probably for a similar purpose, but the relevant agreement has never been in effect, after all—"

He glanced at the corpse at Vaughn's feet.

After all, there has never been a case of the Speaker of the Magic Council being murdered in the past 200 years!

Listening to Donald's words and looking at the countless veils swirling around him, Vaughn smiled: "If a legendary wizard were to fulfill the agreement, what would he do?"

"—I don't know, Mr. Weasley. He might do nothing, or—" Donald hesitated for a moment, then said, "He might also take the opportunity to avenge Speaker Parker—"

"Oh!"

Vaughn chuckled, then looked at the empty grass ahead and said, "So, esteemed wizard, what is the purpose of your visit, the former or the latter?"

Seeing Vaughn's abrupt action, Donald looked at the empty grass and was initially puzzled.

Then, he suddenly realized.

A strong sense of fear suddenly welled up in my heart.

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