Hogwarts doesn't need a savior

Light golden flames seeped out from the body of the vampire in front of him, like the fire of the sun falling from the sky, majestic, powerful, yet full of vitality. It was not blocked at all, nor did it encounter any resistance. It entangled with countless "failures" created by living alchemy, turning them into dust.

But this does not seem like destruction, but rather a purification of the "life" that should not exist in the world but is forcibly put together by ignorant people.

That's exactly what happened.

The tentacles, along with the cave wall that could no longer be distinguished as flesh or rock, caught fire, and the pitch-black cave became as bright as day.

The meat ball, with its ferocious face, calmed down again before being burned to ashes, feeling the comfort of life, and dissipated between heaven and earth.

There were also those black unidentified objects that no one knew where they came from and where they were going. Wisps of mist rose up, revealing their true appearance - white bones covered in darkness.

Equivalent exchange, the eternal highest principle of alchemy, has been desecrated in the most filthy way by a group of self-proclaimed lunatics for more than two hundred years. This could not but make Lynn furious, and could not but make Nicolas Flamel, who was far away in France, feel guilty and remorseful.

"Grin...Dervois...!" The old wizard, who was barely breathing, opened his eyes wide.

Until now, he still believed that this magical spell of fierce fire was done by the most dangerous dark wizard of all time.

But Lynn neither admitted nor denied it, but continued to use flames to bake and destroy their bodies and wills inch by inch.

"I think my skills should have improved a little. I won't let you live like Bellatrix Lestrange."

He said calmly, not even looking at the three living dead who didn't even have the energy to curse, but staring at the ball of flesh that was about to be completely destroyed.

"My teacher, Sir Nicolas Flamel, was unable to completely wipe out this group of filthy heretics. He deeply regrets this. As his student, I will personally seek justice for every innocent soul who died tragically here or in other unknown places. May you rest in peace."

He knew that every soul that had passed away was destined to never hear everything that came out of his mouth.

Including these "alchemical creations" that seem to retain some consciousness or resentment - they are just appendages of living alchemy, victims and symbols of challenging the rules with evil thoughts.

But he still walked across the messy rocky ground step by step, speaking his heart's words word by word.

When the last character was clearly transmitted throughout the entire cave, the blazing Rune Fire reached its peak, turning this place into a vast ocean of fire.

The healing fire of Heimdall, the god of light, and the fire of destruction from the ancient dark wizard are clearly separated at this moment and do not interfere with each other.

The interweaving of life and death destroyed this sinful land and once again cut off the century-old fantasy of these daring and unscrupulous lunatics, although this is only a microcosm of the countless imitators over the past thousands of years, just a small tip of the iceberg.

But this is far from enough.

After all traces of living alchemy were obliterated in the flames, Lynn held his breath and walked to the rose cross that he had deliberately preserved - it had fallen from the wall, and four roses decorated the four sides of the cross. It was by no means the holiness of the Muggle Church, but rather enchanting.

Immortality, ascension to godhood, creation, these are ambitions that connect the ancient and modern times, regardless of Muggles or wizards, ancient or modern.

"Everyone who doesn't take other people's lives seriously deserves the same treatment - I forgot who said this, you can assume it was me, so... are you ready to take your last step?"

The scroll of alchemy was spread out behind him. It was what Lin En saw as soon as he entered the room. It was casually placed on a test table. It was undoubtedly their latest "experiment".

"Uuuuuu——"

Amid futile sobs, the waves of magical power spread silently, cleansing away the sins that could never be dispelled.

Chapter 439 Knocking on the mountain and shaking the tiger

Flowing blood.

Foul-smelling blood.

Dark red blood.

When the dust settled, the flames faded, and the magic disappeared, all that remained in the cave was a lot of blood - the product of a failed living alchemy.

The small red and white object lay quietly in the middle of the pool of blood.

It was a pale cross with roses around it.

The three people whose names Lin En didn’t know and wasn’t interested in knowing were among them, but they had lost their bodies and only had dried-up souls.

A deep, bottomless crack appeared in the solid ground, swallowing up the cross, and it was unknown where it fell.

There, the remaining soul will be imprisoned by its own flesh and bones, enduring the pain of being squeezed and torn every moment until it completely disappears.

After doing all this, Lin En changed back to his original appearance, threw the stained white gloves on the ground, and turned and left.

Euphemia was waiting for him outside, along with the stargazers who had returned from their mission.

[Rosicrucian Order] This alchemical society that should have died out long ago came to an end that was delayed by two hundred years.

This blood-covered Shura field will also leave the name of the vampire Lester, making everyone fearful.

-----------------

Dorje's life hasn't been as good as it seemed lately.

The family knows their own affairs.

In the eyes of the owner of the secret bar and others, arbitrators like him are high-ranking figures.

In the eyes of arbitrators of the same level in the competition, he has completed a heavyweight task and has a bright future.

But only he himself truly knows the embarrassment and awkwardness of his current situation.

It would have been fine if the partners who had been hired with a large sum of money and had cooperated for many years accepted the commission from others and started an internal conflict during the mission. The most important thing was that they were easily killed in a two-on-one situation, and even left an excuse and clues for the old vampire who was hiding deep in his heart.

This forced him to sacrifice his own relatives for the sake of justice and make efforts to make compensation and reparation in various forms.

This was not what he wanted, but a choice he had no choice but to make.

Unlike the peripheral members who mainly engaged in transactions and rarely revealed their identities to each other except for a few individuals, he was bound by strict oaths and even his life was not entirely in his own control.

At the same time, he must complete and compete for various tasks in order to obtain the few "promotion" spots and avoid being "eliminated".

It was fine in the early years. They only needed to continue to develop and attract those dark wizards who desired eternal life, wealth and power but would not pose too much threat. They mixed in the underground world around the world under various false identities and made profits in the chaos.

But starting a few years ago, the situation has changed subtly.

The organization that had remained dormant and silent ever since he joined, and which had not taken any collective action for many years, suddenly became active.

In the southern European region that he was in charge of alone, he recruited a large number of desperadoes in five years without regard for the risk of being exposed - he was behind many major cases that shocked the International Confederation of Wizards.

They have no way to disobey their superiors, and they are not the real superiors of the desperadoes, so they can only cooperate and induce. Sometimes, even they themselves are not clear about the full picture of the mission.

This is also the reason why Leviathan has been able to remain entrenched until now and remains as mysterious as a behemoth sleeping under the deep sea.

Now that it has awakened, although he doesn't know when it will be good or bad, at least he is doing well for now and is on the verge of promotion.

This should have been a time to breathe a sigh of relief, but he heard from one of his few subordinates, the liaison officer Lori, that the organization behind Izar and Baladuc had been uprooted - the murderer was obvious and the motive was also clear.

But he could do nothing about it. After all, his old collaborator was dead and one had to move on.

The only question was where this vampire, who was much older than him, came from and how powerful he was. These questions always made him worried.

One thing is certain, this old fellow who has lived for more than 300 years but is still not well-known is definitely not an ordinary person.

He did not receive any instructions from his superiors when he asked for instructions, and did not get any response from the other party when he showed goodwill. He was stuck in mid-air and could only wait.

Waiting was the most excruciating torture, so much so that he completely failed to notice the subtle changes occurring around him.

For example, the black wolfhounds that appear from time to time in dark corners where few people go.

-----------------

Let’s put aside the various events that happened in Europe for now. On the other hand, Lynn returned to Hogwarts and continued his teaching work.

As the days passed, his new school year was no different from previous years, and he had already entered a state similar to the third year at Beauxbatons.

The curriculum and schedule for each grade have been roughly finalized based on the accumulation of the previous two years, and only minor adjustments are needed.

Plus he has two capable assistants.

The work of the fourth and fifth year OWLs classes was given to Hermione, and she was always good at it.

Cedric was in charge of the sixth and seventh grade NEWTs classes, and with Doris's guidance from time to time, he quickly got the hang of it.

Following the routine, Lynn was very worry-free most of the time, and focused his main energy on his own club and the training of several young people who deserved attention - such as Harry, who was the person Dumbledore paid the most attention to, and Ron and Ginny, who he was entrusted by Molly to take care of.

On a weekend in mid-September, after demonstrating many personal injury spells to Harry and Ron individually, Kingsley, who was instructed, asked them to practice the most dangerous Unforgivable Curses.

This is a gradual process, and one that is best observed - Dumbledore said solemnly the night before.

Thinking of the heavy responsibility on his shoulders and the dire consequences if he was exposed, Kingsley, with cold sweat on his back, asked softly: "Are you ready?" If someone familiar with him would notice that his voice now seemed a little lacking in confidence, and his body seemed stiff as he sat in the chair.

But Harry and Ron had only known him for a short time, so they naturally had no idea. They just said to him without any defense, "Get ready!" based on the simple understanding that "Dumbledore and Professor Eric would never lie to us."

"..."

Kingsley felt speechless towards these two young people who were so fearless, and he also had a lot to complain about the old man and the young boy hiding in the specially modified dark room, but it eventually turned into deafening silence - he could only do as he was told.

After about three to five minutes, until the two young men were getting impatient, he slowly spoke:

"In that case, then you should clear your mind, stay focused, and try to control your body."

This is a self-contradictory statement, but it is also the ability necessary to resist the Imperius Curse, so not many people can do it, even if the caster is just a dark wizard with mediocre magic power, such as the old witch in Knockturn Alley who tried to attack Harry.

To some extent, this is one of the reasons why the Imperius Curse is known as the same as the Cruciatus Curse and the Killing Curse.

Seeing Harry and Ron both nod, Kingsley raised his wand.

"First, Weasley, watch carefully, the soul is leaving the body!"

Not daring to be careless in the slightest, he used all he had learned in his life to carefully control the scale of his spells.

Starting with the weakest Imperius Curse, even weaker than Legilimency, he increased the strength of the magic in a peaceful manner.

Ron, who had never been exposed to this kind of magic, soon got lost in the light, invisible and intangible joy, and his body danced like a puppet to an ancient African dance, which was a sacrificial dance from Kingsley's hometown. He loved it when he was young.

It was not until he lifted the spell that Ron came to his senses belatedly - he had inadvertently become the best control group.

He had no awareness of what he had just done, a sign of being completely controlled by the Imperius Curse.

"Potter, it's your turn now," Kingsley said calmly, "Remember what you just saw and think about how to respond."

Before he could finish his words, a sudden surge of magic swept into Harry's brain, and he didn't even cast a spell.

Harry didn't react at all, and a very tempting voice came from his completely empty mind.

And deep in the soul, the surge of magic caused strange vibrations - this was what Dumbledore and Lynn in the dark room wanted to see.

Chapter 440 Harry and the Imperius Curse

In the split second that the spell tore through his brain - a split second only - Harry knew why Ron had completely lost himself.

This feeling was so wonderful and so fascinating that he felt as if he was flying into the sky. Instead of a broom, he was equipped with a pair of invisible wings. All the thoughts in his mind and the sorrows that had troubled him for a long time were swept away.

All that remains in my mind is relaxation and comfort, and the kind of joy that arises spontaneously, for no reason, but from the bottom of my heart.

He could only vaguely feel Ron's concerned and encouraging gaze, but the feeling was so distant that it could be ignored.

Soon, he heard an extremely seductive voice. He instinctively knew it was Kingsley, but it was completely different from usual, more charming and majestic, which made him involuntarily want to obey, and even want to actively cater to it, which would allow him to continue his relaxed happiness.

"Stand up and do a beautiful dance. It will make you very popular."

Kingsley's voice echoed in his empty head, exactly the same as it had been said to Ron before.

Harry knew he should be alert, but his instinct overrode his reason - he obediently stood up from his seat and took two steps forward. There was probably a relatively spacious open space there, and he was ready to dance.

But at this moment, a completely different sound, one he had never heard before, came from another part of his brain.

"Why dance? It's not smart and it will never make you popular. It will just make you look stupid."

Harry felt his own consciousness. It seemed to be his own voice, but it also seemed very different - his current thinking could not support such judgment and analysis, and he was a little confused.

Next, the two voices kept circling and circling in his mind, and then intertwined, and his body seemed to have two masters.

Harry gradually remembered his task: he was supposed to resist Kingsley's voice and orders, he was supposed to sit back in his seat, not dance.

"I don't dance!"

He shouted this in his mind.

But his body, or rather the body controlled by the unconscious, didn't think so.

It is executing two commands simultaneously.

Dancing, and sitting down.

then……

"Ouch!"

After a burst of severe pain, Harry regained consciousness and found that he could no longer move his legs.