HP: Azkaban's Outstanding Graduate

—She was attacked.

With a blank expression, Sagrais crushed the ice crystal in his hand, took out his wand, and decisively released a dazzling spell into the sky.

The cursed light, accompanied by a piercing sound, finally exploded in the sky into a terrifying black crow's head.

Two seconds later, a purple spell light rose 800 yards away, exploding into an elegant nightingale pattern.

Sagres breathed a sigh of relief, then transformed into a black raven shadow and soared into the air, flying swiftly toward the direction from which the nightingale had sent the signal.

The scenery on the ground flashed by, and he saw intermittent bloodstains and three mangled corpses.

One of them was pinned to a tree by an icicle, while the other two were only half-destroyed and lay haphazardly in the mud. Pure white ice crystals gushed from their broken waists and abdomens, almost freezing the entire remains.

Suddenly, a feeling of stagnation came from the air. Sagresto immediately realized that this was an anti-apparition device set up by the opposing dark wizard using an alchemical array. It seemed that they had come prepared.

Following the signs, we arrived at the heart of the battlefield, where a vast expanse of menacing, bloodthirsty vines came into view.

These twisted, vine-like magical plants are now spreading wildly across the battlefield, their grotesque snake heads at the tips of the vines still gaping open, searching for prey.

Sagras plummeted from the sky, crashing to the ground like a shooting star.

"Netherworld Flames!"

Pale flames burst forth from the tip of the staff, and a pure white guardian spirit emerged from the flames.

The moment it appeared, it flew upwards and into the sky for a distance before turning around and crashing headfirst into the ground.

"Boom!"

At the point where the guardian landed, a massive wave of fire swept out, turning all the bloodthirsty vines to ashes the moment they came into contact with the flames; they didn't even have time to struggle.

The eerie white flames did not harm anything else. After burning away the dangerous magical plants, they transformed from flames into tiny white birds, which then coalesced in the air to form the shape they had just been summoned.

Sagres finally saw the battlefield after the snake vines had been cleared away.

Ice and fire divided this small battlefield into two parts: on the left was a boiling swamp emitting black flames, and on the right were clusters of sharp ice spikes three meters high.

On the dividing line between ice and fire, a corpse dressed in a black robe is pierced by icicles, its body still in the posture of casting a spell attack before its death.

He had barely taken in the situation on the battlefield when five wizards dressed in black robes emerged from the black flames. Behind them, a large group of newly created undead staggered along with them.

Sagras ignored the group of gloomy-faced black wizards and turned to look at the right side of the battlefield.

Nightingale rose from the decaying swamp, her long, silvery hair stained with mud, and droplets of blood clots at the ends falling like sparks—a sign that the Veela bloodline was about to go berserk.

She bent over, clutching her knees, panting heavily, but none of this could conceal one thing—her breathtaking beauty.

This is why these dark wizards were willing to pay a heavy price to capture her; her beauty far surpassed that of the Veela, and selling her to fairies would surely make them a fortune!

Seeing that she was still holding on, Sagres nodded slightly to her, then decisively raised his wand at the group of culprits who wanted to speak.

Ignoring the leader of the dark wizards who were trying to communicate, he chanted the incantation in a cold and resolute voice.

"Rampage Explosion!"

A thick, blood-red beam of spell light shot out from his wand like lightning, directly interrupting the leader of the dark wizards.

"Boom!"

After a tremendous roar, a large crater was blasted into the ground, with charred lines radiating out from the center of the crater.

Dozens of undead were wiped out by the Explosion Curse. Of the five dark wizards, only the leader, whose limbs were broken and who was covered in wounds, was left. The rest of them were all blown to ashes.

"Ah... wait... in Merlin's name!"

The surviving dark wizard threw away his broken wand, groaning as he raised his broken hands above his head.

"We're just paid hunting dogs, please spare me, I'm willing to do anything for you..."

Sagles nodded: "You only need to do one thing..."

As if knowing what he was about to say, the dark wizard twitched his broken hand, and a perfectly intact wand suddenly appeared in his grasp—"Avada Kedavra..."

"scoff~"

A flash of red light appeared, and a silent spell, sharp as a knife, swept across Sagres's wand, severing the opponent's four fingers holding the wand and half a head.

“I knew it…” He turned away dismissively and walked toward the nightingale.

"Watch out!" His urgent shout came from Nightingale just as he helped her up.

A tall werewolf suddenly leaped out of the boiling mud and pounced on Sagres, its sharp claws still wreathed in burning black flames.

"Crimson Tear!"

Even before the werewolf was fully airborne, Sargeras' wand had already pointed to the location it was about to reach.

A chilling red light flashed, and the werewolf that pounced was instantly turned into a pool of red liquid and flew back at an even faster speed.

"No!"

Just as the werewolf was torn apart and melted by the curse, an angry roar came from afar.

With a flick of his wand, the flying red liquid suddenly solidified into countless blood-red crystals, which shot towards the source of the sound.

Then he waved his hand, summoning a gentle breeze that dispersed the smoke in the arena, allowing him to see clearly the person who had just roared.

“Who do we have here…” Sagrais’s voice was as calm as still water, “It’s the infamous werewolf leader, the wanted criminal who murders Muggles for fun… Fenrir Graybuck!”

As soon as the words were spoken, a tall figure appeared in the dissipating smoke. The figure had transformed back into human form from its werewolf form, but its distorted face and sharp, yellowed teeth still clearly retained the characteristics of a werewolf.

Fenrir was now covered in tiny wounds from the attack of the crimson crystal, and his messy fur was soaked and matted with mud and blood, making him look ferocious and violent.

“I know you, Sagres…” A hoarse voice squeezed out of his throat, filled with obvious hatred and disgust.

As he spoke, he glanced with his yellowed eyes at the nightingale behind Zagreb, his hatred no less than when he looked at Zagreb.

This woman caused them heavy losses, and even cost him his own brother's life...

Greyback dug out a piece of blood-red crystal embedded in his body and held it tightly in his hand—it was his brother's blood.

“You brat from the Greengrass family, this matter ends here. I will not…”

Did I say that this was the end of it?

Sargeras coldly interrupted the werewolf, his wand poised to strike.

"Do you want to be marked by the Blood Moon Alliance?" Greyback barely suppressed the urge to transform into a werewolf, practically spitting out the words through gritted teeth, "Kill me, and you'll become the prey of all werewolves..."

"Ha, hunt me down?" Sagres scoffed. "With your wild dog-infected wolf cub?"

He fiddled with his old, secondhand wand, shook his head, and said dismissively, "Or do you think you're someone special?"

The intense humiliation filled Graybuck with rage; his spine began to crackle, and then the anger surged from his chest to his throat—

"Awoo~"

Like the sound of metal scraping together mixed with thick blood foam, Fenrir Graybuck's last shred of sanity vanished with that howl.

Saliva mixed with blood dripped from between his fangs, and the hot breath he exhaled when he howled carried a stench like rotting flesh.

He was a mad wizard who voluntarily contracted wolfsbane in exchange for power!

He was the werewolf leader who had harmed countless Muggles and infected many wizards!

He is a magical creature that spreads endless fear and creates countless bloody curses!

He was being scolded and insulted like a dog by a lowly wizard who pointed a wand at his nose.

Anger gave him strength!

As the werewolf-transformed Fenrir charged in, enveloped in a foul stench, Sargeras raised his hand and cast a silent freezing spell, instantly freezing the ferocious werewolf into an insect encased in amber.

Then he casually stirred up the swampy sewage with his wand, and the liquid, under the effect of the Transfiguration Charm, transformed into a spiked cage, trapping the werewolf who had just broken free once again.

Immediately afterwards, flames erupted again in the spiked cage, ravaging the already wounded werewolf inside until he was completely mangled.

A series of humiliating attacks silenced Graybuck's angry howls, leaving only the pitiful whimpers of a defeated dog.

But he was still sobbing and murmuring, "You dare not kill me, you cannot bear the mark of the Blood Moon Alliance's pursuit..."

Sagrass leaned closer to the werewolf, pressed his wand against the man's pounding heart, and said indifferently, "Then let your wolf cubs try it!"

"Magic rampage!"

A strange light flashed at the tip of the wand, and Fenrir began to scream uncontrollably, before gradually transforming back into human form as the screams weakened.

Fenrir Graybuck is dead.

夜莺

Chapter 13 Nightingale

Sagres walked to Nightingale's side and tapped her body with the tip of his staff. An invisible current immediately swept away the mud on her body.

He held her shoulder with one hand and used his wand to cut open the fabric of her shoulder with the other.

A gruesome wound stretched from her shoulder to her back, with black, branch-like veins appearing near the wound. Sagres frowned slightly and, ignoring her protests, tore open her blood-stained cloak.

"Healed completely!"

A bright green fluorescence appeared, and a wisp of black smoke emerged from the wound.

Most of the damage caused by dark magic requires a specific anti-magic spell to heal, but fortunately, Sagres is quite skilled in healing spells. Although the healing spell just now was obviously not very effective, he was still confident that he could heal it.

"Heal quickly!"

Another flash of white light appeared, but the effect was still not good. This time, the nightingale finally couldn't help but let out a soft groan of pain.

He picked up his wand, preparing to continue casting the spell, but the weakened nightingale suddenly grabbed his wrist and murmured under his puzzled gaze, "Safe house...tree hollow..."

Then he suddenly fainted.

Sagres looked at the unconscious Nightingale, thought for a moment, and then snapped his fingers. Invisible ripples spread out, and soon, tiny silver-white hairs and drops of blood flew into various parts of the town.

He put them all into a crystal bottle before picking up the unconscious Nightingale and using Phantom Shift.

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Moldova, Twilight Forest

After a small crackling sound, Sagles appeared in front of a tall oak tree.

The sleeping nightingale in my arms let out a soft moan, but showed no sign of waking up.