Hogwarts: Dumbledore reigned over the wizarding world.

Chapter 213 You've come at just the right time, Albus!

Vaughn, who was almost blind, remained expressionless as he stirred his wand, summoning a burst of vibrant color...

The dangerous fire was thrown in the direction of Wilkinson, as indicated by the glowing spell, while he replied calmly, "No surprise can compare to the shock you've given me. Before today, I always thought DeSantis was a person, never imagining he might be part of a group—I'm curious, are you all legendary wizards?"

"Heh, cunning brat, trying to extract information? Oh well, whatever. As long as that old bastard Dumbledore comes, you'll eventually find out. Yes, every one of those who possesses the identity of DeSantis is a legendary wizard!"

Within Vaughn's limited perception, the drifting flames were silently dealt with.

He wasn't surprised, and while trying out the new magic, he engaged in strange "casual conversation": "What is your purpose?"

"No purpose!" Wilkinson answered without hesitation, seemingly unconcerned about the secret being exposed: "To be precise, our purpose was achieved when that Muggle named William entered Boston, and when Michael Graves left Woolworth as we had anticipated!"

Vaughn's mind raced, and suddenly it dawned on him: "Your goal is to get into Woolworth?"

He had heard Donald say that Michael Graves and others left using a key, and that the congressman in charge of surveillance discovered that only the key had returned, which made him realize that Michael and the others might have met with misfortune!

That door key was Woolworth's only security vulnerability; it was a backdoor that Michael Graves and others had specifically set up for unforeseen circumstances.

The Magical Congress, upon discovering this loophole, will naturally remedy and thoroughly investigate it to prevent wizards from using invisibility charms or invisibility cloaks to sneak into Woolworth.

Vaughn once thought Woolworth's actions were sufficient, but today he realized, what if the intruders hadn't used cloaking?

What if the intruder simply used light signals to create "errors" and meme information to "contaminate" themselves, thus erasing themselves from everyone's sight?

Perhaps, during the Magical Congress meeting, someone whom all the wizards ignore is standing right next to Josiah Parker.

Perhaps, while Donald Graves was secretly sending him the message, someone he was ignoring was also watching the whole thing with great interest.

This—just thinking about it sends chills down my spine!

boom!

The fully-level Ironclad Spell's spherical light shield trembled, and the explosions in the air, along with the sudden burst of immense power, tore everything around Vaughn to shreds.

That was Wilkinson's counterattack.

However, the max-level Ironclad Charm was clearly beyond the opponent's expectations. His prepared attack failed to break through Vaughn's defense. Instead, Vaughn took advantage of the gap in the opponent's attack to successfully summon a blaze of fire and splash it around himself.

"well----"

The moment the Fiery Blaze successfully landed on the ground, a distorted, mosaic-covered patch of light lingered at the edge of the Fiery Blaze that had just touched the ground and grass and burst into flames.

The ball of light sighed: "I have indeed grown old. My declining magic power is not even able to break through your defenses. You even found an opening and cast a spell that can restrain me—how did you know that Fiery Blaze could hinder me?"

""

"Do you remember the rules? You haven't answered my question yet."

Vaughn remained unmoved, the tip of his wand held between his fingers releasing rings of soft, watery light.

"Alright!" On the other side of the raging fire, Wilkinson chuckled and replied, "That's right, our goal is to find a way back into Woolworth, and now it's your turn."

""

"Nothing special. Your current state is entirely maintained by the magic bestowed upon you by the Path of Legend, right? You have transcended physical form and become a kind of light, a kind of—information!"

"This is indeed very tricky. I don't even understand the principle behind it. But no matter how powerful the magic granted by the Path of Legend is, it is still magic. Fiendfire is the only flame that does not distinguish between sex and spirit. Matter or magic power, as long as it comes into contact with it, even light, will be absorbed by it and become the raw material for its combustion."

"Of course, this conjecture is also thanks to you for helping me verify it."

Upon hearing this, Wilkinson paused for a moment: "Oh—you threw Fiendfire at me earlier to test my reaction?"

Vaughn shrugged. "Yes, you don't care about Polymorph, you don't react to Infrasound, and you ignore almost all the other spells I cast. Only Fiendfyre, you clearly cast a counterspell on it, which is an obvious signal."

"—" Wilkinson fell silent, then sighed, "Such an enviable talent and intuition—"

The weariness in his voice was deeply moving.

But Vaughn did not waver. He lowered his eyelids and could clearly see circles of strangely shaped, indistinguishable light waves spreading from Wilkinson's direction in his vision spell, entangled with and eroded by the light waves of his max-level glow spell.

The battlefield where the two clashed had long since shifted.

Moreover, he was clearly at a disadvantage.

Within his field of vision enhanced by the Vision Charm, the eerie light waves emanating from Wilkinson had already enveloped him completely.

He is now relying entirely on the light waves released by the Glowing Charm and the ability of the Vision Charm to directly observe light to interfere with Wilkinson's strange magic, and is barely managing to hold his own.

But such a passive defense will eventually become unsustainable.

Silently calculating the severe depletion of his magic, emotions, and physical strength, Vaughn showed no sign of urgency. Instead, he continued with the previous rules: "Now it's my turn to ask a question—why did you enter Woolworth?"

This question-and-answer game seemed to appeal to Wilkinson. He didn't hide anything, but he also didn't reveal everything. With a smile, he answered ambiguously, "We want to get back something that should have been in our possession."

A faint magical light flickered in Vaughn's eyes: "Dreamcatcher?"

'

Silently.

Where Wilkinson appeared, an invisible light suddenly burst forth!

A large number of colorful, indescribable blocks of color suddenly piled up in my field of vision, making the whole world look like a broken monitor.

Strange and erroneous perceptions are spreading everywhere!

This world is an illusion!

It's fake!

Strong subjective assumptions, uncontrollably surging up from the depths of his mind, from those memory zones that Vaughn had sealed off.

Those were his doubts about his own time travel experience, and his speculations that this world might be false. They were originally just occasional wild thoughts, just fleeting ideas.

But at this moment, guided by some force based on perception, it suddenly sprang out, vividly demonstrating its presence!

It even affects consciousness and thinking.

But soon, a cool sensation enveloped his brain, "cooling" his almost boiling consciousness, and Vaughn immediately snapped out of his frantic thoughts.

The moment his vision "reopened," he saw that the light waves at the tip of his wand had stopped, and the armor spell that had been extended was about to disintegrate due to the interruption of his emotions.

"What bizarre magic—"

The belated sense of crisis made his heart pound wildly. Vaughn quickly maintained the Ironclad Charm and the Glowing Charm, and at the same time, he chanted the incantation of the Ages Charm!

However, Wilkinson suddenly stopped.

The colorful patches quickly receded, and in his normal vision, Vaughn saw an ordinary-looking, albeit somewhat ethereal, white old wizard on the other side of Fiendfire.

He didn't look at Vaughn, but stared at the sky. After a few seconds, he let out a long sigh: "What an annoying old man—"

Then, he vanished into thin air.

"Hmm?" Vaughn frowned, puzzled by the other's actions. The next moment, he sensed something and looked in the direction Wilkinson had been gazing.

What appeared to others as a cloudless, clear blue sky was, in his eyes, a scene of apocalypse—the countless ribbon-like "tentacles" hanging down from the mountains had somehow surged wildly toward the heavens!

They stretched out in a continuous expanse, blocking out the sun, like dark clouds brewing thunder, or an inverted sea, heavy and oppressive against the sky.

And behind that, what shone in was not sunlight, but crimson fire!

Vaguely, Vaughn saw a gigantic phantom, seemingly reaching the heavens and connecting the earth, made of endless flames, rushing towards the rolling "dark clouds" and the surging "ocean" behind the pitch-black ribbon!

No sound.

There was no earth-shattering event.

The dreamcatcher's massive tentacles, which blotted out the sky, were melted through by the flames in an instant. The apocalyptic scene lasted only a moment before both vanished, as if what had just been seen was an illusion.

But Vaughn knew it wasn't true.

He could clearly sense that the dreamcatcher that had been covering the mountains was gone; a powerful, vast, and wild force had forcefully invaded from the outside and "broken" it.

Moreover, that force was rapidly approaching, and would arrive in an instant.

puff!

The air trembled, and a featherless chicken squeezed out of the air, its whole body exuding a burnt aroma, and it fell awkwardly on its backside not far from Vaughn.

Beside it, the impeccably clean-shaven white-bearded wizard landed with a steady gait and waved to Vaughn: "My dear, I hope I'm not too late!"

His wrinkled smile was a bit irritating.

However, upon seeing it was him, Vaughn breathed a sigh of relief: "You've come at just the right time, Albus!"

call out-

The shrill scream of the spell tearing through the air at high speed grazed past Pandora's ear. Without even blinking, she fired a disarming spell at the Auror in the Capitol opposite her.

The opponent, having failed in his attack, didn't even have the thought of retaliating, and screamed in terror as he tried to run away.

-

At that moment, a nimble squirrel darted out from Pandora's feet, stretched into a human shape in mid-air, and unleashed a burst of red light from a Stunning Charm, blasting the panicked Auror away.

"The twelfth!"

Isabella waved her wand and used the grass blades she could find to create ropes, binding the Congress Auror she had knocked unconscious.

Turning around, just as he was about to call Pandora to continue, he saw that his friend had already stopped, walked to an oak tree, and was leaning against the thick trunk, looking down the mountain.

"Why did you stop?"

"it's over."

Isabella walked over to Pandora and looked down the mountain. Sure enough, she saw that the shouts, explosions, and howls of spells that had been rising and falling in the lush forest had gradually disappeared.

Only a large number of wizards riding brooms and some half-wolf werewolves remained, binding and dragging out wizards dressed as Aurors from the forest, their fates unknown.

They converged on a river valley further away.

In the valley, many of the wooden houses that had been destroyed have been rebuilt, some serving as temporary detention centers and others as rest areas.

Looking at the well-organized scene, Isabella, who represented the victorious wizards, was stunned for a moment, and exclaimed, "I didn't expect that in just one year, Vaughn has already gathered so many people under his command."

"Isn't that a good thing?"

"Of course it's a good thing, but—I suddenly realized that I have indeed been away for too long, so much so that I haven't witnessed and accompanied him as he grows up."

Pandora smiled: "I didn't either. Does saying that make you feel a little better?"

Isabella rolled her eyes: "You boring, wicked woman, I'm not trying to compete with you, I just—"

Before she could finish speaking, a heart-wrenching cry from the direction of the valley interrupted her.

The Far Sight Spell allowed both of them to clearly see that the weeping were half-werewolfs gathered in front of a wooden house. There were not only living people there, but also corpses that had died, whose werewolf syndrome was gradually disappearing and who were returning to their true forms.

There were many corpses.

Many more wizards are being searched for after the war, brought back from various parts of the mountains.

The heart-wrenching cries weighed heavily on Isabella's heart. She watched silently for a long time before finally asking, "What should we do with them?"

Pandora said calmly, "Did they even have a choice?"

"So—the werewolves' earlier guess was correct? Vaughn deliberately lured the Magic Council here—"

Pandora glanced at her: "Would it make you feel better if I answered no?"

'

"Don't forget how they treated you when you sympathized with the werewolves and worried about them. They never acknowledged or accepted us, and they even treated us maliciously in the training grounds."

Isabella couldn't find a way to refute it. Pandora was right. Whatever Vaughn's initial intentions were, it was indeed the werewolf who pulled out his wand at them first during the training session.

This behavior itself demonstrates that they are not on the same page as our side.

This is a matter of stance, and there is no room for wavering.

""

However, the werewolves' tragic fate is also a fact: "What will Vaughn do with them?"

"I don't know." Pandora shook her head, thought for a moment, and then said, "If these werewolves can put aside their hostility and understand who their real enemy is, Vaughn will most likely treat them the same way he treated the English werewolves. But if they can't accept this—"

Then the outcome is hard to say.

Having known each other for two years, Isabella always knew that Vaughn was not a kind person—a guy who dared to take her to a Muggle prison to steal death row inmates for human experimentation when he was not even 10 years old could hardly be associated with being soft-hearted.

Isabella was flustered and couldn't speak for a moment.

The two lingered under the oak tree for a while, the gentle breeze soothing their post-battle fatigue. After some time, a werewolf arrived on a broomstick.

Isabella knew the werewolf; his name was Matthew, and he seemed to be one of Vaughn's confidants.

Matthew quickly flew over, glanced at the two women, and looked at the Capitol Aurors who were bound hand and foot beside them.

He waved his wand, dragging the Congressional Auror to his side and making him float, then bowed: "Ms. Isabella, Mrs. Lovegood, we are preparing to regroup and return to Boston. Please return to camp as soon as possible."

"Is everything cleaned up?"

"The North American werewolves have been mostly gathered, but some have not been found. It is unclear whether they were shattered by some curse or are hiding somewhere we have not found. However, Kingsley, Lupin, and Ms. Dolores Umbridge all believe that this place is not suitable for a long stay, and we must leave as soon as possible."

"Where's Vaughn? I don't think I've seen him at the Valley camp."

"Mr. Weasley has left; he has other things to do."

Isabella was about to press for more information when Pandora stopped her: "Thank you, Matthew, we'll get back as soon as possible."

Matthew nodded and quickly flew with the prisoners to another hilltop to notify the WAC members who were still hunting down scattered Aurors or searching for werewolves.

Wait until his figure disappears.

Isabella looked at Pandora with a puzzled expression: "Why didn't you let me ask Vaughn what he was doing? Today's battle was so big, the Magic Council will definitely not let it go, and he might be in danger on his own—"

"No, that's not true," Pandora interrupted her. "Dumbledore is with him!"

Isabella gaped in surprise.

She hadn't heard of Dumbledore leaving the British Isles for a long time. The respected headmaster seemed to be glued to Hogwarts Castle ever since Voldemort and the Death Eaters were defeated, and he rarely even went to the International Federation for more than ten years.

"He actually gave it up? How do you know?"

Pandora glanced at her: "—Looks like you have absolutely no talent for alchemy, how pathetic."

Isabella: "?"

"Stop daydreaming, go back. Soon you'll be saying goodbye to North America. If I were you, I'd think carefully about what to leave behind as a memento!"

"Forget it!" Isabella's attention was immediately diverted, and she pouted, "I have absolutely no attachment to this damn place. I just want to get back to England as soon as possible. London's darn rainy season is more pleasant than the sunshine here—by the way, Hogwarts should be starting soon after we get back, right?"

"yes!"

"Is Luna enrolling this year?"

"----yes----

"Is she still acting like that weirdo? If so, she'll be ostracized!"

"————" Pandora didn't want to talk anymore; she had a headache.

Isabella chuckled, "Maybe I can help you!"

"?"

'

It had just rained in Boston at noon, washing away the city's dust and slightly easing the summer heat.

All of this seemed to be welcoming the new students for the fall semester, after all, the annual freshman enrollment would begin at the end of August.

The streets were still damp after the rain. A group of young men and women, who looked very young, walked over from Cambridge. They looked around the streets and alleys that had been washed clean by the rain with curiosity, and talked about the places they wanted to go.

"I think we should first find out where the nightclubs and clubs are!"

"Damn! You're a genius, bro!"

"My God—is alcohol and marijuana all you guys think about? This is Boston, Boston, or did you just not see the news from a while ago? That neighborhood where the residents mysteriously disappeared is not far away, why don't we go check it out? You agree, Jenny—Jenny?"

Jenny snapped out of her reverie at her companion's calls, but her gaze still lingered on the alleyway she had just passed.

Her best friend was very worried about her: "Jenny, what's wrong?"

"No—" Jenny quickly forced a smile, her expression revealing hesitation: "Maybe—maybe I'm seeing things."

"Are you seeing things?" Gui Xiao looked at Jenny, glancing at the alleyway. It seemed ordinary, with nothing unusual about it.

Jenny hesitated for a moment, but ultimately didn't speak. She had just seen a red-haired boy and a white-bearded old man deep in the alley, seemingly melting into a shallow puddle of water in the alley, like melting snow.

How could it be in such shallow water?

It must be a hallucination!

Jenny tried to comfort herself, but for some reason, she had a strong intuition that what she was seeing was not an illusion.

At the same time, Vaughn, who had entered the black market with Dumbledore, withdrew his gaze: "A witch overlooked in the Muggle world, very sensitive to magic and anomalies, may have prophetic blood."

"Yes, and there's a high probability that it's one of the 12 purebloods who were lost to the outside world, most likely Wilkinson. In the entire United States, only their family has ever had a prophet."

"—I get a headache just hearing that surname now."

"Hahaha—" Dumbledore laughed heartily, then winked mischievously at Vaughn: "My dear, this is the first time I've ever seen you so afraid of someone, it's really something."

Vaughn said expressionlessly, "If you're not as skilled, there's nothing more to say."

"Oh dear Vaughn, I was just joking. You don't need to be so self-deprecating. Wilkinson is over 200 years old. I wasn't even born when he became famous. To be honest, if your memory weren't so clear and I hadn't met him before, I really wouldn't believe he's still alive. In my mind, he should have died long ago."

"Obviously not." Vaughn snorted. "That's your oversight; he wasn't mentioned in the information you gave me."

"Uh—it was indeed my oversight, but I still have to argue. The reason Wilkinson wasn't included is that long ago, the legendary wizarding community around the world believed he didn't have many years left to live. Not just me, everyone who saw him in person at the time assumed he was already dead!"

Upon hearing this, Vaughn frowned slightly.

He sensed that Dumbledore's "excuses" concealed information he didn't know, and he looked at Dumbledore: "Why are you so certain?"

After thinking for a moment, he asked, "Does the legendary wizard Nido exhibit some kind of unusual phenomenon before his death?"

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