A magical journey that begins in Azkaban.

Chapter 544: Conversation between Purebloods
Three dazzling spells suddenly burst out from the cloud, and shot straight at the Auror at the bottom like lightning. The Auror's eyes widened, and his body seemed to be frozen, and he could only watch death approaching.

"Armor protect you." Roger's voice cut through the air, and with a wave of his wand, a barrier instantly formed in front of the Auror.

The spell hit the barrier, making a sharp whistling sound, and then reflected to the ground. The Auror gasped, cold sweat oozing from his forehead, and looked at Rogge with lingering fear, his eyes full of gratitude.

However, the crisis is not over.

Several Dementors jumped into the team from nowhere. They were erratic and made creepy hissing sounds. They were not intended to attack, but to disrupt the Aurors' defensive formation.

The air suddenly turned cold, as if all the joy had been sucked out of it.

"Expecto Patronus!" Rogge stepped forward again, and a silver raven leaped out from the tip of his wand.

As it flew towards the Dementors, the dark creatures had already disappeared into the clouds. Rogge's Patronus hovered in the air for a while before finally turning into tiny dots of silver light and dissipating.

The white clouds around seemed to have life, becoming thicker and thicker, like living things, slowly pressing in from all directions. The air was filled with tension and uneasiness, and everyone could feel the impending danger.

"We can't move forward." Dawlish said in a deep voice. He swept his eyes across the regrouped team, his face full of solemnity. "The Dementors' attack just now was just a test. If the Death Eaters take advantage of the opportunity to attack, I'm afraid there will be casualties. We must formulate a new strategy."

As soon as the words fell, the survivors, who had been quiet, suddenly exploded. Low voices of discussion rose one after another, some were terrified, some were angry.

They were eager to elect a new opinion leader to convey their demands and concerns to the Aurors. However, under the tyranny of the "little devil", no one dared to step forward and be the first to speak out.

Roger turned around and asked, "Bellinrum, where are we now?"

The Goblin King quickly glanced at the magic map, looking at the cloud that was almost solid, and said with a hint of urgency: "Near Bangor Mountain."

He paused, then urged anxiously, "Why don't we rush over? It only takes ten minutes to get out of the anti-apparition range."

Dawlish immediately shook his head to express his objection: "This is obviously a trap set by the Death Eaters. We can't take any risks! Once it starts moving, they will have an opportunity to take advantage of it."

"Is it safe to stop here? How can you be sure that this is not a trap?" Bellingrum retorted, "If we stay still, the Death Eaters will gather more and more. When the Dark Lord comes back, we will all be finished."

"This..." Dalish was suddenly speechless.

The Aurors looked at each other, with hesitation in their eyes. No one could be sure of Voldemort's whereabouts, which meant that danger could come at any time.

Finally, everyone's eyes turned to Rogge, expecting him to make a wise decision.

Roger did not answer immediately, but flew to the cloud in a leisurely manner. He drew out his wand and whispered, "Shatter into pieces."

The spell struck the cloud in front of him, breaking it up. However, this did not do much, as more clouds quickly filled the gap.

He was not discouraged, but instead gave a mysterious smile, and obviously had an idea: "Then wait, I happen to have a friend who can help you."

"Friend?" Bellingrum raised his eyebrows in surprise, and then a worried look appeared on his face, "Can he make it? The Death Eaters will definitely intercept him."

"Don't worry, my friend is not so easy to be intercepted." Roger's eyes flashed with confidence, "Let the clouds gather for a while, the more the better."

The others had no better idea, so they had to agree to Rogge's suggestion and stay there and wait.

There was a tense and expectant atmosphere in the air, and everyone was secretly wondering who the "friend" Roger was talking about was and what kind of turnaround it would bring.

The dense clouds were like an invisible barrier, not only blocking the vision of Rogge and others, but also confusing the giants who had already climbed the mountains.

These behemoths were holding boulders as big as SUVs, but they didn't know which direction to throw them. They turned their huge heads awkwardly and made low grunting sounds, sounding confused and irritated.

In the valley, Bella and her group gathered together, talking in low voices. Her beautiful eyes occasionally swept across the clouds, as if she was thinking about something.

Cedric's eyes were filled with anxiety that was difficult to conceal. He hesitated for a moment, then finally asked, "Is the master not back yet? Should we go up and take a look?"

Barty raised one eyebrow, his tone was full of obvious disdain: "Forget it, werewolves and dark races look down on us 'pure-blood' Death Eaters."

He half-clenched his hands and nonchalantly cleaned the dirt between his nails. "Besides, the master didn't give us any specific tasks. Why would we bother ourselves and rush forward to be looked down upon?"

Bella, McNeill and other senior Death Eaters stood aside in silence. Their silence seemed to imply their agreement with Barty Jr.'s point of view.

In Voldemort's inner circle, all Death Eaters enjoyed equal status. No matter how much the Dark Lord valued someone, in front of him, everyone was just a loyal servant.

But once you get out of that big circle, it’s different.

Purebloods hang out with purebloods, while half-bloods and Muggle-borns form their own faction. Although the two groups despise each other, they are surprisingly united in one thing: their rejection of werewolves.

As for the dark races such as vampires and giants, the purebloods look down on them even more. They would rather form an alliance with the shrewd and cunning goblins than lend a helping hand to these "lower creatures".

"Wait." McNeill suddenly broke the silence. He took out a butcher knife that shone with cold light from his robe and began to sharpen it on a large stone.

The blade rubbed against the rough stone surface, making a creepy "sizzling" sound, as if someone put their fingernails on a blackboard and kept scratching it hard.

The harsh sound made the people around him shrink their necks involuntarily, with uncomfortable expressions on their faces.

But McNeill's eyes flickered with morbid excitement, and he clearly enjoyed the disturbing noise.

As the executioner of the Ministry of Magic who is responsible for executing dangerous magical creatures, he has long been accustomed to this job and even gets some twisted pleasure from it.

"Enough!" Bella shouted, with a dangerous light in her eyes, "This is not the Ministry of Magic. We don't need you to be the executioner."

McNeill curled his lips in dismay and muttered, "You have no artistic talent and don't know how to appreciate my art."

A gloom flashed in his eyes: "The Ministry of Magic hasn't had a mission to execute animals for a long time. I really want to tie up those werewolves tightly."

"Then..." He gripped the hilt of the knife with both hands and swung it fiercely.

"Swish~~" McNeill imitated the sound of a knife entering flesh, with a comfortable smile on his face, "The wolf's head just fell off like that."

Feeling the disgusted looks from others, he sighed helplessly and put the butcher knife back into his bag.

He then pulled out an oil-paper bag containing some kind of dried meat, which he chewed piece by piece to while away the time.

"It smells good." A familiar voice suddenly sounded in the air, and then Buck's figure appeared in front of them out of thin air.

"Of course not." McNeill nodded and handed over the jerky generously, "I bought this from your house elf."

He proudly introduced: "Look, I also have the scent of hippogriff, dragon, niffler, and salamander..."

"My house elf?" Buck looked at him in confusion, frowning, "Why didn't I know it had this skill?"

"Ah? The elf in Travis Manor is not yours?" McNeill asked curiously.

Buck's face was immediately filled with black lines when he heard this. He responded angrily: "It's not mine, it's Roger's elf. I didn't expect that he also runs a snack business on the side." "It's just recycling waste." McNeill shrugged and explained indifferently: "You know, the Department for the Control of Magical Creatures executes a number of magical creatures that are identified as dangerous every year."

"In the past, their fur and bones would be processed into various magical materials, but their meat... basically no one wanted it."

"But your nephew has a good business sense." He grinned, revealing a mouthful of jagged yellow teeth. "Last time he went to Hogwarts to execute the hippogriff that hurt people, he bought the body without hesitation, and then he made this delicious meat snack."

"I have to say, it's really delicious." McNeill shared his unique insights with everyone like a gourmet: "Hippogriff meat jerky is dry and very chewy. It's very satisfying to chew. It's the best choice for grinding teeth."

He took out a piece of dark green jerky from his bag and handed it to the Death Eater beside him: "Try this, it's made of dragon meat. The original taste is a bit fishy, ​​but it's very filling. One piece is equivalent to six pieces."

"The sniffers are the rarest. The meat is chewy and smooth, but it's a pity that there are too few of them. You can hardly find a few that need to be executed throughout the year."

"But, what I recommend most is the one made by the fire ash snake." He handed over a piece of dark red jerky with a slightly obscene smile on his face: "It's spicy enough, and it's good for your body, very nutritious!"

He winked at the male Death Eaters around him, his eyes containing hints that all men understood.

At this moment, several dazzling flashes of lightning suddenly appeared in the dense clouds above their heads, followed by deafening thunder. Several people looked up, but did not seem to care much about this sudden change in weather.

Bella smoothed her wild black hair and asked softly, "Buck, how's the situation in the lab?"

"It was burned by the fierce fire, not even a slag was left. As for Baldwin... he may be dead, or he may have been captured." He pointed to the gloomy sky, with a hint of complaint and dissatisfaction in his tone: "I have said it before, it is too risky to continue studying the snake virus."

"If the new virus can threaten half-blood wizards, it can in turn kill pure-bloods. What's more, you did this without telling your master. Now it's all right, don't worry about it anymore."

His words were like a heavy hammer, instantly pounding the atmosphere in the valley into dead silence. The dense dark clouds contained endless lightning, which occasionally illuminated the entire sky and made Bella's face even more terrifying.

The purebloods were silent, even McNeil stopped chewing. Peanut-sized raindrops began to hit the dry land, stirring up clouds of dust, as if playing a prelude to the coming heavy rain.

"You should all know why we are gathered together." Bella's voice mixed with thunder, and every word carried a power that went straight to the heart.

She slowly scanned each person, as if to see into their souls, "Now, we are the only ones left who are still fighting for the pure-blood ideal."

"Antonin Dolohov, Augusta Rookwood, Walton MacNeill, Barty Crouch Jr., Cedric Diggory, and you." Her words were like a sigh, resolute and tragic.

"As for those traitors of Lucius," Bella suddenly raised her voice, her eyes full of contempt and anger, "they love power and wealth more than the blood flowing in their bodies."

The rain grew heavier, the thunder grew louder, and lightning danced in the sky, as if responding to Bella's words.

"But where is our master?" she shouted angrily, as if triggering some kind of switch.

A bolt of lightning came down from the sky, splitting the earth.

Click! ! !
The lightning struck the giant standing on the mountaintop. The giant body was instantly burned black and fell to the ground without a sound.

The rest of the giants howled in fear and fled into the distance in panic. Their clumsy figures disappeared in the pouring rain.

When Buck and the others heard Bella mentioned Voldemort, they had different reactions.

Some covered their ears, as if avoiding some terrible truth; some lowered their heads, lost in thought; and some looked at Bella curiously, waiting for her remaining words.

"He betrayed the ideals he taught us and made us associate with dirty, lowly and disgusting bugs. He..." Bella's whole body was shaking.

She seemed to have made up some unprecedented determination. She took a deep breath and said in a hoarse voice, "He is mixed-blood!"

The dark clouds in the sky seemed like a quilt soaked with rain, pressing visibly towards the mountain. A loud bird cry echoed in the lightning, and then several black shadows fell heavily, hitting the puddle and stirring up dirty water.

"Thunderbird." McNeill seemed to want to ease the tense atmosphere and deliberately changed the subject, "Buck, your nephew is too cunning."

"Thunderbird can control the weather. That idiot Youer thought he could trap them with thick clouds." He chuckled, "Hehe, now he's helping Rogge. Isn't this just shooting himself in the foot?"

"I really don't know what the jerky made by Thunderbird tastes like? Will it taste like a numbing lightning when you bite it in your mouth?" His tone was relaxed and frivolous, but the others in the valley ignored his joke. There was a suffocating heaviness in the air.

"You should know the Black family's ancestral motto." Bella spoke slowly again, her voice low and solemn: "Always pure."

"I can't accept it..." Her voice was a little tearful and sounded as fragile as potato chips.

Lightning flashed across the sky, illuminating Bella's distorted face. Her heart was struggling violently, and the past came flooding back like a tide.

She once believed in Voldemort fanatically and regarded him as her only god. For him, she would do anything.

She slaughtered Muggles for him, taking countless lives with the wave of her wand; she killed wizards for him, even at the cost of her own relatives; she fought against the whole world for him, and gave everything she had to the great Dark Lord.

But Voldemort lied to her!
"He is not a pure blood at all, and he is not here to purify the filthy magic world." Bella complained painfully, "He just wants to control the magic world and become the immortal Dark Lord that everyone fears."

She recognized Voldemort's true face and realized that her belief for many years was a deception. She was just Voldemort's servant, as humble and pathetic as a house elf.

Rodolphus, her unloved husband, protected her with his life without hesitation, while her beloved master punished her in a rage.

Rain mixed with tears flowed down Bella's face. Her voice trembled, full of complex emotions: "We were all deceived. The ideals we fought for, everything we paid for..."

"I'm going to kill him!" Bella gritted her teeth, her voice cold and firm as iron, and every word seemed to be squeezed out from the depths of her soul.

There was a gleam of determination in her eyes, a determination that was almost crazy.

Although everyone present knew that she ordered Baldwin to study the second generation of the Snake Virus, possibly in order to kill Voldemort.

But when these words actually came out of her mouth, it was still like a heavy hammer, shattering the last fantasy of others.

In an instant, everyone's body trembled involuntarily. This idea was too terrible and too crazy. They felt terrified, but at the same time they felt a strange sense of relief.

Suddenly, a thunderous roar broke out in the sky, as if responding to Bella's determination.

Huge lightning streaked across the night sky, illuminating everyone's pale face. The rumbling thunder was incessant, as if it was the anger of heaven or the roar of fate.

The rain was getting heavier, as if Loch Ness was pouring down overhead. The mountain streams suddenly became raging rivers. The muddy flood roared into the valley, swallowing up everything in its path.

At this moment, several people seemed to be deaf and speechless. Their ears could not hear the roar of thunder, and their mouths could not utter a single word.

They stood there, as if under a petrification spell, only their eyes were still moving restlessly, exchanging complicated glances with each other.

Looking down on other Death Eaters was just an excuse for them to deal with each other. The real reason was that when everyone confirmed that Voldemort was a half-blood, the long-held belief in their hearts collapsed.

However, they were powerless to resist and had nowhere to go, so they could only stay on the East Coast and muddle through, carrying out Voldemort's orders like zombies.

(End of this chapter)