Chapter 140: Phineas' Revenge
Naturally, the wizarding world today hopes the vampire civil war ends soon—and that the traditionalist wins.
After all, the reformist faction has made it clear they intend to challenge wizarding authority.
Even if wizards are aware of this, they pay it little mind. Vampires lack strong spellcasters, giving them a significant disadvantage.
Still, anything that saves trouble is welcome. No one can guarantee that, should a full-scale vampire uprising occur, their own family won't suffer casualties.
At its core, what a pure-blood family truly values is bloodline and inheritance—everything else comes second.
Lisa nodded hesitantly. "I understand, Master Phineas... but I request to accompany you."
Lisa was once a Hogwarts student—until a mad werewolf bit her during a school holiday, scarring her face and turning her into one herself. The scar never healed.
Her pure-blood family disowned her, refusing to acknowledge a werewolf among their bloodline. Had Phineas not taken her in, she might have met a tragic end.
This betrayal left her acutely aware of her position in society. Though she occasionally teased Phineas in daily interactions, when he was walking into danger, she couldn't bear to remain behind.
Phineas understood this. So when Lisa insisted on joining him in the assault on the reformist vampire base, he simply nodded.
"Then let's go, my friends," Phineas said. "Let the wizarding world witness the wrath of Phineas Black!"
At his command, the werewolves left the Silver Moon Potion Shop and summoned their comrades hidden throughout Knockturn Alley.
These werewolves, who saw Phineas as a savior, carried out his orders with deadly precision.
In mere hours, they launched coordinated strikes against vampire strongholds across Knockturn Alley, Diagon Alley, and even London, showing no regard for time, location—or consequences.
To most, werewolf wizards are dark wizards, and even dark wizards rarely dare to act so openly in Diagon Alley or central London. But these werewolves didn't care.
It was as if they had no fear of death. They ignored Ministry Aurors, the risk of being cursed by other witches and wizards, and even breaches of the Statute of Secrecy.
They had a single goal: destroy every vampire, raze every base.
The wizarding world was shaken. The scale and brutality of the attacks echoed the chaos of the Death Eaters.
Only after the werewolves withdrew did spectators realize the truth: all those killed were vampires, and all the targets had been vampire strongholds.
"Wait," a stunned wizard said as he looked down at a vampire's corpse, "doesn't the Black family have a werewolf division?"
Another wizard's eyes widened. "Wasn't the Black heir kidnapped by vampires a few months ago?"
"Is this... his revenge?"
"If so—"
"You'd be mad to cross that young master again."
"I need to owl my son immediately—tell him not to provoke Phineas Black. In fact, make friends with him if possible."
"Right. Look what happened to the Flint family. And now... the vampire families are in ruins."
As Phineas' campaign continued, rumors spread like wildfire.
The magical world began passing around unspoken laws:
Never provoke Phineas Black—he will declare war on your entire bloodline. Ask the Flint's.
Never provoke Phineas Black—his vengeance will be swifter than the vampires ever were.
Never provoke Phineas Black—he won't care how you feel; he'll wipe out your descendants in a single stroke.
Never provoke Phineas Black—because the madness of his wrath will reduce your legacy to ash.
Amid the storm of public fear, Phineas and Lisa, along with Puff and a select team of werewolves, Apparated to a forest in Scandinavia.
"You're certain this is the place?" Phineas asked, scanning the gloomy woods.
Lisa shrugged. "My contacts said there's a base here—possibly the base camp."
Phineas nodded. "Then whether it's the camp or just a base, we're going in."
The forest resembled the one near the castle where Phineas had once been held captive—but darker, and more oppressive.
As they ventured deeper, the air thickened. Shadows loomed. Silence pressed on them.
"This place reeks of vampires," Phineas murmured, spotting a bat overhead. He drew his wand from his cane.
More bats appeared, flitting between trees.
In Muggle myths, vampires are linked with bats—but wizarding knowledge says otherwise. Still, some vampires did make homes where bats were common.
At the forest's heart stood a Gothic castle, steeped in black and red stone. Blood-magic hung in the air, nearly tangible.
The sheer density of the blood-magic aura meant one thing: there were countless vampires inside—and they were powerful.
Even Jonathan, an original-bloodline vampire, hadn't radiated blood energy like this.
Lisa paled at the sight. She had underestimated the strength of the reformist vampires—and now she had led Phineas into their den.