The Old Ones of Hogwarts

Chapter 518, Section 527: The Eternal Gamble

The Death Eaters didn't even have time to react.

Everything happened so fast.

"What a hassle!"

Ian's movements were so gentle, as if he were merely brushing away non-existent dust from his sleeve. He used negligible force, relying instead on exquisitely precise manipulation of airflow, a fleeting interference with the vectors of motion, and an instantaneous fine-tuning of the local gravitational field. This wasn't even considered advanced offensive or defensive magic; it was more like a practical manipulation based on a deep understanding of the laws of physics, akin to "using four ounces to move a thousand pounds." With his current level of understanding and his nascent comprehension of the authority of the "Foundation of Order," achieving this was effortless, leaving almost no trace of magic. And that was precisely why...

Ian's intervention was very effective.

but.

His intervention temporarily protected a few Muggles in the most critical situation, but the chaos in the streets and the battle between the two wizards continued, and more dangers were yet to come.

This farce must be stopped.

"They really are terrorists."

Ian's gaze locked onto the arrogant Death Eater.

He could see that Jorkins was already struggling and showing signs of defeat, and could be killed or captured at any moment. The Death Eaters' rampant behavior in the Muggle neighborhoods needed to be punished.

He stopped hiding. He took a step forward.

This step seemed to have landed on some invisible rhythmic point.

That's enough.

The two words, "calm," were spoken softly, yet strangely pierced through all the screams, explosions, chants, and car sirens, resounding clearly over the chaotic street.

Like cold spring water poured into a boiling oil pan.

"What happened?"

"What happened?!"

The two fighters, who were locked in fierce combat, froze simultaneously.

Especially the Death Eater, he felt that the next curse he was about to cast was slightly stagnant at the tip of his wand, as if the surrounding magic had become viscous and... full of repulsion?

Immediately afterwards, an indescribable, vast, and chillingly cold wave of magical power, like a giant dragon that had been sleeping for millennia, slowly opened its eyes.

It descended with a roar, centered on Ian's location!

This magical fluctuation was not flamboyant or violent; it did not form shockwaves or visible flames. It was more like an absolute manifestation of "presence," a silent declaration of "rules."

The air seemed to grow heavy instantly, and all the subtle noises—screams, cries, the lingering echoes of spells, car alarms—were suddenly silenced by an invisible hand.

In the venue.

All sounds are silent.

All that remained was a chilling, deathly oppressive atmosphere.

"What's going on there? Are there superpowered people?" The running crowd involuntarily stopped in their tracks, turning back in horror to search for the source of the terrifying feeling.

The Death Eaters and Jorkins, who were engaged in battle, suddenly turned towards Ian as if they had been bound by a spell, their faces filled with extreme horror and disbelief!

"Who is that! How can they possess such terrifying magic!"

The Death Eater's pale, contorted face was drained of color, and his pupils shrank to pinpoints. His hand gripping his wand trembled violently, not from fear, but from the instinctive, uncontrollable shudder and submission that arose within him from the dark, turbulent magic that was already present in the face of this sudden, higher-level, and more fundamental pressure!

He had only vaguely experienced this feeling when facing his master's wrath, but it was never as pure, vast, or despairing as it was now! Yes.

Despite his reluctance to admit it due to his faith in Voldemort, the Death Eater's reason and mind still told him that it was the truth!

The one who made the move!

His strength far surpasses that of the great Voldemort!

"What immense power!" Jorgins' mouth gaped open, his gray hair soaked with cold sweat and plastered to his forehead. He too felt the irresistible pressure of the magic, but unlike the Death Eaters' fear, his eyes were filled with bewilderment and a sense of relief mixed with astonishment.

Who...who is this?

Aurors from the Ministry of Magic?

No, Aurors don't have that...that feeling! Dumbledore? It doesn't feel quite like it either...he even thinks Dumbledore couldn't do that!

"Do you even know what it means to obey the law?"

Ian stood there, plainly dressed, his face young and serene, an incongruous figure with the broken streets and terrified crowd around him. But to the two wizards and even some of the more perceptive Muggles, he seemed to have become the "center" of this space, a "black hole" that devoured all light and sound, radiating boundless majesty and icy will.

"Especially you!"

Ian glanced at the Death Eaters.

Just one glance.

The Death Eater was struck dumb, letting out a muffled groan.

It was as if he had been struck hard in the chest by an invisible hammer. He staggered backward, his wand almost flying out of his hand. The protective magic and the pent-up malice around him melted away as quickly as snow under the sun.

He felt his magic circulation almost come to a standstill by that glare, and a chilling sensation came from the depths of his soul, as if he were being completely looked down upon and held in the power of life and death by a higher being.

"Britain shouldn't have such a powerful wizard!" Jorgins also subconsciously took a step back, his face pale, and he lowered his head in awe, not daring to look directly at him.

"These Muggles are lucky; they're fortunate to have run into me." Ian stopped looking at them and instead scanned the messy street and the terrified crowd.

He waved his hand gently.

This time, the magic manifested more clearly. A soft, pure white light, like melting snow in early spring, rippled outwards from him, quickly sweeping across the entire battle area.

Where the light touched, the shattered paving stones, as if from a rewinding video, rapidly closed up and restored themselves; broken shop window glass flew back to its frames, cracks mending as if new; collapsed lampposts and wrecked car bodies creaked softly, their twisted parts smoothed and corrected by an unseen force. Even the scattered petals and soil seemed to be gently swept up by a breeze, returning to their original wooden frames and flowerpots… This was a performance that would make any wizard tremble. A large-scale, intricate, and widespread "restoration" spell was cast with effortless ease. The effect was nothing short of miraculous.

After doing all this, Ian suppressed the terrifying magical fluctuations, as if everything that had just happened was just an illusion.

Time seemed to freeze for an extremely brief moment after Ian's vast magic subsided and the streets miraculously returned to normal.

Then, as if pressing play, the suppressed sound and emotions erupted.

"God... what did I just see?!"

"Glass! The glass flew back by itself!"

"The floor tiles are done! And the lampposts too!!"

"Those two... they were using... using wands to shoot light! Was it magic?!"

"A demon? Or an angel? That white light just now..."

"Call the police! Call the police now!"

Terrified, bewildered, and incredulous gasps, screams, and whispers rang out from all over the street. The Muggles who had been fleeing, hiding, or lying limp on the ground now stared wide-eyed at the three most abnormal figures standing in the middle of the street, one of whom was dressed in a dark green robe and had a deathly pale face.

It was the trembling, middle-aged wizard, Joggins.

The other black-haired youth, dressed in ordinary dark casual clothes and with a youthful and eerily calm face, was naturally Ian. Besides him, there was only one Death Eater not far away, who had just been glared back by Ian and was now barely managing to stand up, his black robe torn, his face a mixture of resentment and extreme fear.

The restored streetscape and the standoff between the three created an extremely surreal scene. Some of the bolder individuals, or those whose curiosity outweighed their fear, began to peek out from behind shop doors, behind cars, and around street corners, eventually gathering around, holding up cameras that were still quite cumbersome for the time. "I knew our world wasn't right!"

The bravest of them all, a man who looked like a newspaper reporter, trembled as he tried to press the shutter. Of course, most others were in complete chaos; some tried to flee this "evil" area, some wanted to get closer to see what was going on, some collapsed to the ground weeping, and some shouted for their lost relatives. Humanity has no shortage of diversity.

The sounds of car horns, children crying, women screaming, and men yelling mingled together, plunging the streets, which had just begun to regain order, back into a state of chaotic panic.

"Is he a good person or a bad person?" Jorgins felt uncomfortable under the countless suspicious, fearful, and inquisitive gazes, and he subconsciously shrank back behind Ian.

It was as if this mysterious and powerful young man was their only protector.

He could certainly feel the disapproving looks in the Muggles' eyes, and even more so, the Death Eater's cold, venomous gaze fixed on him. Therefore, his lips trembled; he wanted to say something to Ian, but didn't know where to begin, only managing meaningless "uh...uh..." sounds. "A bunch of damned Muggles!"

The Death Eater was extremely annoyed and humiliated by the Muggles' stares and gasps. When had he ever been reduced to being watched like a monster by a bunch of ant-like Muggles?

In the past...

He will go on a killing spree.

Now, however, I'm hesitant to act rashly.

After all, what terrified him most was the unfathomable black-haired youth in front of him. Just standing there was like an insurmountable iceberg, blocking all thoughts of escape or retaliation. The magic within him was still chaotic and stinging from the oppressive aura he had just experienced, and his palms, gripping his wand, were covered in cold sweat.

The man knew he had to leave immediately!

Then report to the master!

A formidable enemy he couldn't comprehend had appeared! Just as the chaos reached its peak, the faint, approaching shrill sound of police sirens could be heard in the distance.

"Waaaaah!"

The sirens grew clearer and more urgent. There was more than one! And, accompanied by a heavy, rhythmic roar, it seemed there were other vehicles involved!

"The police are here!"

"The army! It's an army vehicle!"

"Get out of the way! Get out of the way now!"

A new commotion arose in the crowd. Several blue and white police cars, their roof lights flashing, rudely pushed aside the congested vehicles at both ends of the street and sped towards them, screeching to a halt not far from Ian and his group.

"Are those superhumans?"

The car door flung open, and police officers in dark blue uniforms quickly emerged. Using the door as cover, they nervously raised their pistols, aiming them at the three men in the middle of the street. Their faces were etched with tension and disbelief; they had clearly learned of the "supernatural attack" that had occurred there through their communications. Even more chilling, two dark green armored personnel carriers, painted with military insignia, roared in right after the police car, their tires churning the pavement with a dull thud.

"These wizards! They love causing trouble!" The rear door of the carriage opened, and squads of soldiers wearing helmets, combat uniforms, and full gear filed out. Their movements were swift and well-trained. They quickly spread out and took up advantageous positions, the dark muzzles of their automatic rifles pointing directly at Ian and his two companions.

They knew that Ian and the others were wizards, so they obviously knew more than normal people.

therefore.

The response was extremely elaborate. While they might not dare use them in this environment, some were even carrying rocket launchers, while others held strangely shaped, seemingly newly developed electronic detection devices, scanning nervously. The air was thick with the tension of lingering gunfire. Police announcements came through loudspeakers, their voices distorted with tension:

"Three people in the middle of the street! Drop your weapons immediately! Hands behind your heads! Lie face down! Repeat! Drop your weapons immediately! Hands behind your heads! Lie face down!"

The soldiers' fingers were on the triggers, their eyes sharp as hawks. The orders they had received were clearly at the highest alert level—to confront an unknown "superhuman" with enormous destructive potential.

Pointed at by dozens of gun barrels and possibly heavy weapons, Jorgins was so terrified he nearly wet himself. His legs gave way, and he collapsed to the ground, his wand slipping from his grasp and falling to the side. He instinctively raised his hands high, stammering, "Don't...don't shoot! I surrender! I'm a wizard! I'm a British wizard! I mean no harm!"

The Death Eater's expression grew even more grim. He gritted his teeth, his eyes flashing with a fierce light, calculating the possibility of a forced Apparition escape. But that black-haired youth… his aura subtly enveloped the area, making the space seem unusually "solid," making a rash Apparition attempt extremely risky. Moreover, he had no doubt that if he made the slightest move, the youth would immediately attack, and the weapons of these Muggles around him… while perhaps not fatal, were still a nuisance.

All eyes were unconsciously drawn to Ian. He was the calmest one from the beginning, and also the one who had just displayed miraculous healing magic and terrifying pressure.

"You're really causing me trouble!"

Ian sighed softly. This trouble was bigger than he had anticipated. The involvement of Muggle official forces meant that the cleanup would be more complicated.

He wasn't worried about these guns and cannons—with his current strength, conventional physical weapons posed almost no threat, and the authority of the [Foundation of Order] even allowed him to "define" these attacks as ineffective to a certain extent.

only.

Ian is not a dark wizard after all.

He didn't want to cause unnecessary bloodshed, nor did he want the conflict between wizards and Muggles to become public in such a violent way, especially at this sensitive time when Voldemort was trying his best to provoke confrontation.

It seems that we have no other choice but to use that method.

"Ministry of Magic tradition".

Ian ignored the gun barrels pointed at him and the soldiers' tense gazes. His eyes calmly swept across the entire street, over every terrified, curious, and angry face, over the dark gun barrels and flashing police lights. His eyes were deep, as if they could contain every detail of the chaos.

then.

He raised his hand.