"You've only sent a house-elf over to assist the Muggle Prime Minister. Isn't that a little inappropriate?"
Inside the elevator at the British Ministry of Magic, Dumbledore spoke with some concern.
He always felt that Muggles, especially the Muggle Prime Minister, should be given enough respect.
Hearing that, Link shook his head and said, "Among Muggles, there's a well-known saying that distance creates beauty. But I think distance creates more than beauty."
"It also creates fear and admiration. Based on that principle, I believe that, at least at this stage, wizards shouldn't have too much direct contact with Muggles."
"So in this matter, having a house-elf step forward is actually a very good choice."
"House-elves possess magical power close to that of goblins. That power is already enough to help the Muggle Prime Minister complete his task."
"At the same time, house-elves are the most loyal servants of wizards."
"It can better highlight the strength of wizards."
"With a house-elf handling it, I believe this matter will be resolved perfectly, and our future negotiations with the Muggles will also become much smoother."
Dumbledore nodded.
"You can decide this matter. After all, what I want to see is simply order restored, with everyone able to live and work in peace. What I'm more curious about is, why did you bring me back to the British Ministry of Magic? What meeting are we attending?"
"Don't pretend. You already guessed it, didn't you? Otherwise, you wouldn't have changed into such splendid formal robes ahead of time. I don't think a mere Muggle Prime Minister is enough to make you dress so formally."
"So, you really invited the ministers from the other Ministries of Magic?"
"Of course. Voldemort's soul fragments, or rather, the Shadow Man, are now a threat to the entire world. I don't think the British Ministry of Magic should bear that responsibility alone."
"But the other Ministers of Magic probably won't think that way. Most people are ignorant. From their point of view, they'll ignore the fact that the threat already existed and had been slowly growing day by day. Instead, they'll blame those of us who exposed the wound."
"They'll think that the reason the Shadow Man has developed into a threat to the whole world is entirely because of the British Ministry of Magic, or rather, because we forced him into it."
"So what? If that's really what they think, then they should also understand that if I can force the Shadow Man into this situation, I can force them to their deaths too."
Hearing Link say that, Dumbledore was visibly stunned. Then he smiled bitterly.
"I knew it. With your temperament, there was no way you would politely invite them over. After all, you're already running out of patience. In the end, you still used force against them, didn't you?"
Link said calmly, "I only let them watch a videotape."
"Then the contents of that videotape must have been terrifying." Dumbledore shook his head and continued, "But what I'm more concerned about is, after using such extreme methods, how many ministers actually came this time?"
"Why don't you go and see for yourself?"
As Link finished speaking, the magical elevator came to a stop.
As the elevator doors opened, a large door bearing the W-shaped Ministry of Magic emblem appeared at the end of the long corridor.
Link smiled slightly at Dumbledore, then stepped out of the elevator first and walked toward the door.
———
At the same time, inside a conference room, dozens of Ministers of Magic from across Europe and America had gathered together.
The conference room they were in had actually been converted from the Wizengamot chamber of the British Ministry of Magic.
So in every respect, it could be considered the finest conference room available.
Many of the ministers from smaller Ministries of Magic would probably never in their lives attend a meeting more prestigious than this one.
Yet despite being in such an excellent meeting environment, none of the ministers present looked particularly pleased.
Because right in the center of the conference room sat a man dressed in formal attire like a field marshal, tied to a chair.
That man was naturally the French Minister of Magic.
The French magical community was one of the most open and culturally rich magical societies in Europe, and even in the world, so its Minister of Magic naturally held considerable international status.
After all, many Ministries of Magic, including the Magical Congress of the United States, relied on the French magical market for foreign trade.
Because of that, most of the people present were very familiar with the French Minister.
Of course, in previous meetings, the French Minister had always carried himself with impeccable grace.
Among the ministers, the elderly Minister of Magic even had the nickname "the Classical Gentleman."
But now, that "gentleman" had completely lost his mind.
One moment he laughed wildly, the next he cursed in rage, and most of the time he cried.
If that were all, it actually wouldn't matter much.
There were no true friends in business, and politics was even less so.
Faced with the French Minister in such a miserable state, none of the ministers present felt pity. The strongest emotion they felt was schadenfreude.
But above the French Minister's head hung a holographic projection powered by a Memory Crystal.
It repeatedly played the scenes of the British Ministry's allied forces, led by Link, invading the French Ministry of Magic.
Just watching the enormous spatial teleportation array unfold above Fürstenberg Square, the terrifying Killing Curses pouring out of it, and the countless Aurors and Hit Wizards swarming out like locusts was enough to leave many of the ministers pale-faced, their legs trembling with the urge to flee.
Even the ministers from the major Ministries of Magic, who had barely maintained their composure, finally couldn't keep calm when they saw the British Aurors recklessly casting marking magic, filling the skies above Paris with the W-shaped emblem of the British Ministry of Magic and the Kraken crest of the Flamel family.
Every one of them looked extremely grim. Their chests rose and fell continuously, clearly furious to the extreme.
Even so, not a single one of them was willing to stand up and voice any protest.
They simply remained seated, glaring at the other major ministers.
No one knew how much time had passed before a woman wearing an elaborate headdress stood up.
That immediately drew everyone's attention.
A large part of that was because she was the current President of the Magical Congress of the United States, Seraphina Picquery.
She clearly enjoyed being the center of attention.
Stretching out her arms, she displayed the Thunderbird embroidered on her formal robes before saying, "Allow me to say a few words!"
"The Magical Congress of the United States has always been committed to maintaining peace and stability in the magical world, supporting the weak, and upholding justice. Many times, we've even sacrificed our own interests in doing so. It can be said that we've contributed greatly."
"But recently, the British Ministry of Magic completely disregarded both the Statute of Secrecy and the International Confederation of Wizards Mediation Agreement by attacking the French Ministry of Magic, capturing and torturing our poor French Minister of Magic through extremely cruel means, and occupying and ruling over the French magical community!"
"This fully exposes the sinister intentions of the British Ministry of Magic to obstruct world stability and development!"
"I hereby issue a solemn warning to the British Ministry of Magic! The Magical Congress of the United States remains unwavering in its determination to safeguard regional stability!"
"We strongly urge the British Ministry of Magic to immediately revoke its mistaken decision and correct its actions. Do not continue farther and farther down this dangerous and erroneous path! Otherwise, we will take resolute and powerful countermeasures!"
As soon as Picquery finished speaking, applause broke out throughout the conference room.
However, many people were obviously only clapping out of courtesy, so the applause quickly became sparse.
Picquery's expression immediately darkened.
Fortunately, in the corner of the conference room, the German Minister of Magic, a chubby man in a brown suit, was still applauding vigorously.
Picquery's expression eased somewhat, and she gave the German Minister an approving look.
The German Minister immediately clapped even harder, a proud, foolish grin spreading across his face.
"So you're preparing to declare war on the British Ministry of Magic?"
At that moment, another pleasant female voice suddenly rang out.
Picquery frowned and looked over, only to see a young woman in an elegant evening gown looking at her with an expression full of mockery.
"Sophia August!"
Picquery practically ground out the name through clenched teeth.
The woman opposite smiled as she opened an aristocratic folding fan, covering half her face, leaving only her eyes, which became even more mocking, fixed on Picquery.
"How rude, you country bumpkin. You should address me as the Minister of Magic of the Russian Ministry."
As soon as those words were spoken, everyone else in the conference room became visibly uneasy.
Even the dullest person could sense that the smell of gunpowder between the two was growing stronger and stronger.
Unexpectedly, however, Picquery, who had been gritting her teeth moments earlier, didn't become angry. Instead, she chuckled.
"You're still the same, August. So conservative. Clinging to outdated ideas, stubbornly protecting your own class, looking down on everyone else, and refusing to reform."
"Don't you understand? It's precisely because you're unwilling to change that the Russian Ministry of Magic has gradually declined and been surpassed by us."
"The Russian Ministry of Magic has carried out far more reforms than you can imagine. Everyone has seen that. As for this so-called decline, it's complete nonsense." August's smile disappeared. "Now I only want to clarify one thing. Those remarks you just made... are you planning to declare war on the British Ministry of Magic?"
The forced smile on Picquery's face immediately froze.
She stared directly at August.
Only after a long while did she slowly say, "It can't be called a declaration of war. But I must condemn the actions of the British Ministry of Magic! This is my duty as a member of the International Confederation of Wizards!"
"Oh, spare us, you shameless country bumpkin!" August pointed toward the projection in the middle of the conference room. "Isn't everyone here attending because they received that videotape and were intimidated by the British Ministry of Magic? Since you've already come, that itself proves the fear and weakness in your heart. So why are you still talking so tough?"
After saying that, August deliberately flicked open her folding fan.
The Ministers of Magic who had long disliked Picquery and MACUSA immediately began applauding.
The applause was even louder than what Picquery had received earlier.
Most importantly, the German Minister was among those applauding, still wearing that excited, self-satisfied, foolish grin.
Picquery's face darkened with anger.
She shot the German Minister a fierce glare, causing him to freeze in place.
Even so, he secretly continued looking at August with the gaze of a puppy staring at its owner.
At this point, Picquery no longer had the energy to argue with the German Minister.
Ever since the first Dark Lord had been defeated, dragging the German Ministry of Magic down with him, every German Minister had behaved like this, always sitting on the fence.
Over time, everyone had simply gotten used to it.
After giving the German Minister one last glare, Picquery looked seriously at August and said,
"You're wrong, August. As President of the Magical Congress of the United States, how could I possibly fear threats from the British Ministry of Magic? After all, MACUSA isn't the Russian Ministry of Magic."
"Our Aurors and Hit Wizards are united and fear no challenge! The reason I came here is entirely because I wanted to seek justice for ministers like you, who were threatened by the British Ministry of Magic and forced to attend!"
"I am a messenger of peace! It's people as ignorant as you who always misunderstand me!"
"Just wait and see! In a moment, I'll lodge a formal protest and demand that the British Ministry of Magic give us an explanation! And also give the poor French Minister of Magic an explanation!"
The French Minister sitting in the middle of the conference room seemed to have heard someone call his name.
With tears and snot streaming down his face, he turned toward Picquery.
Picquery responded with a saintly smile.
The scene carried an indescribable sense of holiness, and the conference room fell into an eerie silence.
A moment later, those who had been moved began applauding and cheering once more.
Picquery spread her arms again, displaying the Thunderbird emblem embroidered on her robes while shooting August a contemptuous glance.
At that moment, the conference room doors opened.
Link, dressed in black robes with an expressionless face, entered first.
Behind him came Dumbledore, dressed in magnificent robes with a smile on his face.
In an instant, the applause and cheers filling the conference room came to an abrupt stop.
Even Picquery herself returned to her seat at astonishing speed, her face calm, as though she hadn't been the one speaking moments before.
The sight made August unable to resist opening her fan again and letting out a cold laugh.