From Azkaban to Hogwarts.

After the Auror Office's proposal was put forward, the entire Magical Congress nearly exploded!

If you can't find out about the attack, you're all useless. Investigating Muggle memories? Are you kidding me! International secrecy laws strictly prohibit this kind of thing from happening on a large scale. One or two cases are fine, but opening it up to everyone... not to mention the extremely negative aftermath of the Salem witch trials, what about the collective resistance from the rest of the wizarding world?

This isn't the British magical world of a decade or so ago, where they'd just defeated the mysterious figure and could confidently claim they couldn't deprive the people of their right to celebrate. If these members of parliament pass such an outrageous resolution, then it's not like they can't just replace them…

With the election just around the corner, who would be out of their mind to make such a mistake!

If you bunch of useless Aurors can't find anything, then be patient and keep searching. Today you're relaxing the restrictions on extracting Muggle memories, tomorrow you'll probably be trying to extract wizards' memories. Dream on!

After all that fuss, the Auror Office's proposal only relaxed the restrictions on the Unforgivable Curse and added a little more funding; everything else was rejected.

Despite the Auror councilor's vehement protests, it was to no avail, and the meeting continued...

-

"cheers."

Voldemort raised his glass, and all the Death Eaters proudly raised their glasses in return.

They are celebrating this great victory.

It wasn't in the council, but a sneak attack—they found out where the Auror training was held and then killed eight Auror trainees.

"We have also confirmed the home addresses of the others. The information on Ifamoni School is very complete."

A Death Eater with a scarred face spoke humbly—although they had a general idea of ​​who had joined the Aurors, they had never used the school’s incredibly detailed information.

Or rather, when they used it, they only took advantage of the least noticeable aspects of the information—the student's personality, strengths…

As for addresses and such, the Dark Lord strictly forbade them from using them to prevent the source of this information from being exposed.

"Very good, very good."

Voldemort nodded, the red light in his eyes flashing in the flames. "Is that most radical kid still there?"

"Yes, as you instructed, we kept him here specifically."

"That's...great, he's the most suitable, isn't he?"

Voldemort's eyes burned with fervor. "Let the news from the council spread a bit more, then reduce the capture and attacks on Aurors, and start sabotaging the production of several essential potion ingredients, causing prices to rise even higher."

"Keep waiting, it'll be about that day soon."

-

"This won't work, that won't work!"

Nick Jack angrily complained to his companion.

They've been working almost overtime lately, dealing with attacks and cases everywhere, but they just can't catch anyone.

Apparition is incredibly convenient, and their opponents are masters of it.

If a wizard skilled in apparition intends to cause trouble, it's impossible to capture them unless you anticipate their intentions, lay in ambush beforehand, or have three times the manpower.

The entire wizarding world is now criticizing these Aurors for their inaction, and the strikers who were supposed to be taking the blame have now openly admitted that they are just a team responsible for handling minor disputes and assisting the Aurors. They are simply powerless to deal with the Purifiers or anything like that.

"Those cowards!"

Nick started cursing viciously.

Although the Aurors usually described those strikers that way and never really gave them a second glance, the fact that those strikers would just go all out when it came down to it was really disgusting.

"As for strikers... we can't expect too much. The magical world still needs us."

"Ha—forget it, do they need us? They won't give us this right, they won't give us that right, what are we supposed to investigate? Everyone knows those people are definitely disguised as Muggles and hiding, but those people from the Magical Congress are actually forbidding us from investigating Muggles!"

He started to complain, and his companions echoed his sentiments.

The Magical Congress may not know, but the Aurors are well aware of how many of their colleagues have sacrificed their lives during this time, especially the discovery of the training base, which resulted in the deaths of Auror interns who were training there…

"We should bring those councilors over here and see what happens! All they can do is hold meetings and argue!"

Nick cursed angrily, then went back and began to disguise himself so that most people wouldn't recognize him, before leaving the Ministry of Magic disguised as a striker—this was necessary, especially in the current situation.

Nick was off work and in a bad mood, so he decided to go get a drink. He had a favorite Muggle pub that occasionally sold some unusual items.

Although he usually disliked that, given the current situation, he doubted he could control his urge to insult those pig-like politicians if he didn't have that in mind.

"Just relax for a bit... just relax for a bit."

He habitually walked towards the bar and ordered some special items.

A dozen minutes later, when he was completely relaxed, he suddenly sensed danger approaching.

'Wand, wand! How did they know? How did they find out?'

A jumble of chaotic thoughts surged forth rapidly in the face of an out-of-control will, but were quickly interrupted by the whispered incantation.

"The soul leaves the body."

As this forbidden spell was uttered, Nick lay down on the spot.

"Heh... I thought this Auror would give us some trouble... but this is how it turned out?"

"Yes, we even brought five times the manpower to accomplish this task."

"Keep your voice down. Let's finish what that master arranged first. This kid is still very useful... Pretend you don't know him, let him continue drinking, and make everything seem natural. Otherwise, you know what will happen."

Soon, Nick returned to his seat as if everything was normal, enjoying more alcohol and other things.

-

"I was... suddenly attacked..."

"Damn it, I don't want to, I don't want to..."

"Don't burn, don't burn..."

Nick felt a very pleasant voice in his head, but he subconsciously didn't want to listen to it.

But... I'm so tired...

Let's do it that way.

Let's do it this way?

Just listen to it, just do it, get it done, and then you'll be able to...

...

"do not want!"

When Nick suddenly came to his senses and half-broke free from the Imperius Curse, he remembered what had happened earlier and realized that he had been deliberately released from the curse.

However, it's too late.

The Fiendfire that made his very soul tremble had burned beyond his control, and he had unleashed it himself. He saw the Magic Congress building ablaze under the Fiendfire he had released, watched the wizards rushing out in a hurry, and saw the panicked crowd.

"I am innocent!!!"

He had just tried to shout those words, but found he couldn't; he had unconsciously raised his wand.

A dozen or so spells came from afar, easily devouring his life.

Chapter 534 Broken Glass

"We're doomed..."

Beneath the raging flames, the staff of the Magic Council, watching the flames devour everything, were plunged into despair.

They discovered it far too late; there were severely insufficient wizards remaining in the Capitol, and those capable of extinguishing the Fiendfire were few and far between.

As the most destructive spell in black magic, it easily burned away the defensive system that wizards had built up for the building over the years, and the magical fuel made the Fiendfire even more intense.

Aside from organizing the evacuation of people and salvaging some valuable data, the staff on duty could do nothing but watch pessimistically as everything unfolded—and this was the best-performing group among the employees.

The American magical community has enjoyed a long period of peace, and the combat capabilities of the members of the Magical Congress can almost be described as despair-inducing—the British Ministry of Magic had only ended its last war less than a decade ago, and the combat skills of its staff had become a joke among the professors.

The last time the Magical Congress nearly went to war was during the rise of Grindelwald—even then, their fighting strength was considered a joke by the various national ministries of magic.

"Where is the murderer? Has he been caught yet?"

The president of the Magic Congress, who hadn't even finished dressing, had a face as cold as ice—less than a few hours after he left work, his Magic Congress building was already burning like a torch!

"The arriving Aurors have already killed the perpetrator, but their identity is still being confirmed..."

"What time is it? They're still confirming! Where are the staff on duty tonight?!"

A roar erupted amidst the crackling and popping of the flames. At that moment, no one dared to look directly at the enraged president of the Magic Congress. The Magic Congress staff who had escaped lowered their heads and dared not utter a sound.

"Huh...huh..."

After taking several deep breaths, he finally suppressed his anger and began to try to organize people to put out the fire—but after a few minutes, he realized that this was not feasible.

None of the members of Congress present who could be commanded by him could extinguish Fiendfire; to be precise, there were very few staff members who could even recognize it as Fiendfire.

Despite his constant roaring and instructions to his members on how to extinguish the Fiery Blaze, the blank stares on their faces told the Magic Congress President that everything he was doing was in vain.

'Useless trash, good-for-nothings, a bunch of snuck in…'

He was cursing inwardly, but he couldn't show it on his face—it might be okay to let one or two people with mediocre grades sneak in, but if there were a lot of them...

"Where's the batter?"

"The strikers are blocking off the surrounding streets to prevent more Muggles from gathering and trying to stop the Muggle fire trucks—the alchemical tools they use to put out the fires—from getting to our side."

"Can't they put out the fire?"

"Only a small portion can be intercepted; teams have already been organized to intercept them."

"Where is the Auror?"

“We are urgently summoning all the Aurors, but this is proving difficult—” The assistant, who had been responding fluently, suddenly stammered, “They need to disguise themselves, and we need to verify the authenticity of the orders… and… seek permission…”

The assistant's voice was very low, but the chairman of the Magic Congress still understood the meaning behind the words.

The Aurors don't have complete authority over him; there's also an Auror office director above them—the twelve Aurors take turns coming out of their homes.

Moreover, even if everything goes smoothly, the Aurors will still need to maintain their disguise. There have been far too many attacks and ambushes targeting the Aurors lately, so they've been using the new special legislation...

'It's over...'

He sighed in despair—he was destined to go down in history.

In 1693, the Magical Congress was first established, and after several twists and turns, its headquarters was finally located in the Appalachian Mountains.