The middle-aged Auror collapsed heavily onto the cold stone ground.
For a brief moment, the entire square froze.
Then shocked gasps erupted from every direction.
"No!"
Lucien immediately rushed toward the fallen Auror, his voice filled with urgency. He knelt beside the body and reached out slowly, as though trying to hold onto something already slipping away forever.
The man's eyes were still open.
Lucien gently closed them with one hand.
His expression carried genuine sorrow.
"Why…" he murmured softly. "Why did it have to come to this?"
"Avada Kedavra!"
The Head Auror's furious roar suddenly shattered the silence.
He was afraid.
Truly afraid.
Lucien's words had already begun shaking the resolve of the crowd, and the Head Auror no longer dared allow him to continue speaking. If things continued like this, even more Aurors might begin doubting themselves.
The moment the Killing Curse was fired, it became a signal.
Several sickly green lights instantly erupted from all corners of the square.
Every single curse targeted Lucien.
The sight alone made countless people instinctively recoil in horror.
Yet Lucien showed no panic whatsoever.
If anything, the corners of his lips curved upward slightly.
With Vinda Rosier and Abernethy standing beside him, how could such an obvious attack possibly succeed?
Just as the green light approached, two powerful spells erupted simultaneously.
Massive stone walls burst upward from the ground in front of Lucien.
The Killing Curses slammed into the barriers—
—and shattered apart instantly.
The square descended into chaos.
Before the Saint Group could even react, several younger Aurors hidden within the crowd suddenly turned against their own side.
"Expelliarmus!"
"Petrificus Totalus!"
"Stupefy!"
Red light and blue light exploded through the air.
The Aurors responsible for the sneak attack were immediately overwhelmed and forced to the ground within seconds.
Everything happened far too quickly.
By the time the remaining Ministry agents realized what was happening, their companions had already been disarmed and restrained.
Vinda Rosier's eyes flashed coldly.
Green light gathered at the tip of her wand.
Clearly, she had no intention of leaving survivors.
But before she could cast the spell, Lucien suddenly spoke.
"Wait, Aunt Vinda."
He gently lowered her wand with one hand before stepping forward calmly.
The gathered Saints instinctively moved aside for him like a retreating tide.
Lucien slowly approached the captured Aurors.
Most of them glared at him with hatred and fear.
He sighed softly.
"Haven't enough people died already?" Lucien asked quietly. "For decades, both sides have continued killing each other. Why must you insist on wiping us out completely?"
"My father was imprisoned by the wizarding world," he continued calmly. "And now you won't even spare an eleven-year-old child."
"Bah!"
The Head Auror spat viciously onto the ground.
"You and your father are both monsters!" he roared furiously. "You're parasites corrupting the wizarding world!"
Lucien remained completely calm.
Instead of anger, sadness appeared within his eyes.
"We are called disasters simply because we pursued truth?" he asked softly. "Because we wanted wizards to stand openly beneath the sun?"
Blue light flickered faintly within his eyes.
"I've already said this once before."
"We were never supposed to be enemies."
"We share the same identity."
"The same world."
"The same future."
"What we should truly do is—"
"Avada Kedavra!"
The Head Auror launched another sneak attack instantly.
Somehow, he had concealed a second wand beneath his robes all along.
The green light shot directly toward Lucien at point-blank range.
"Lucien!"
Vinda Rosier's expression changed completely.
For the first time in years, genuine panic appeared on her face as she rushed toward him recklessly.
But Lucien merely sneered.
He had expected this.
The moment the curse appeared, he simply shifted his body slightly to the side.
The Killing Curse missed him by inches.
"Sir," Lucien said calmly, "you seem to have forgotten something."
His wand spun elegantly between his fingers.
"While my prophetic abilities may not compare to my father's…"
"That doesn't mean they're useless."
Lucien stepped backward gracefully.
Then he raised his wand toward the sky.
"Protego Diabolica!"
Blue fire exploded outward instantly.
Pale flames erupted around the square like a raging ocean, swallowing the surroundings beneath brilliant sapphire light.
Although nowhere near as massive as the legendary blue fire dragon Grindelwald once summoned in Paris, the scene was still enough to leave everyone breathless.
The moment the flames appeared, the entire Saint Group descended into complete madness.
Even Vinda Rosier herself looked shaken.
She had personally raised Lucien for years, yet even she could not hide the excitement burning in her emerald eyes.
"Protego Diabolica…" Abernethy's voice trembled behind Lucien. "It's really Protego Diabolica…"
Lucien chuckled softly while looking toward the crowd.
"Everyone," he said calmly, "the final moment has arrived."
He gestured toward the sea of blue flames surrounding the square.
"Cross this fire."
"Shatter the illusions of those still sleeping."
"Fight for the Greater Good."
"And announce to the entire wizarding world…"
"That the Saint Group has returned."
Vinda Rosier stared silently at the young boy standing within the flames.
Then suddenly—
She smiled.
Without hesitation, she stepped directly into the blue fire.
The flames ignored her completely.
Behind her, Abernethy immediately followed with fanatic excitement written all over his face.
"For the Greater Good!"
The Saints erupted once more.
"For the Greater Good!"
One after another, black-robed figures stepped into the blue flames.
And one after another, they vanished through Apparition.
The scene resembled a religious pilgrimage.
A rebirth.
At the same moment, a familiar notification sounded inside Lucien's mind.
[Congratulations to the host for taking control of the Saint Group.]
[Achievement Unlocked: Successor of the Dark Lord.]
[Achievement Points Awarded: 500.]
Lucien's eyes brightened slightly.
"Five hundred points…" he thought calmly. "Enough for a five-pull draw."
"Once things settle down, I'll need to think carefully about how to spend them."
Eventually, the enormous square emptied completely.
Only Lucien, Vinda Rosier, Abernethy, and the captured Aurors remained behind.
Vinda glanced coldly toward the bound prisoners at her feet.
"What should we do with them?" she asked quietly.
Lucien did not even spare them a glance.
He casually waved his wand.
Blue flames instantly swallowed the remaining Aurors whole.
Their screams lasted only moments before disappearing entirely.
"Aurors?" Lucien said calmly. "What Aurors?"
…
Inside the dark tower of Nurmengard, an old man quietly observed everything from above.
White hair draped over his shoulders.
One blue eye.
One silver eye.
Gellert Grindelwald watched Lucien with obvious amusement.
"Well done, little one."
A faint smile tugged at the old wizard's lips.
"So what comes next?" Grindelwald asked lazily. "Are you planning to take over the Austrian Ministry of Magic?"
Compared to the miserable shell he became in another timeline, Grindelwald's condition here was dramatically better. Since adopting Lucien years ago, he finally had something interesting enough to relieve the endless boredom of imprisonment.
Aside from being unable to leave Nurmengard, his life was almost no different from freedom.
Lucien immediately rolled his eyes.
"I'd like to live a few more years, actually."
He dropped heavily into a nearby chair before continuing.
"Taking over the Ministry now would basically be declaring war on the entire wizarding world."
"If it weren't for the agreement you made back then, I wouldn't have caused such a massive scene today at all." Lucien sighed quietly. "Lying low until I fully matured would've been the smarter choice."
Grindelwald spread his hands helplessly.
"I honestly didn't expect you to win over those stubborn old fools."
Then his expression became thoughtful.
"How about Durmstrang?" he suggested. "You could hide there for a few years."
Lucien immediately shook his head.
"Forget it."
He leaned back lazily.
"Going there would probably be even more dangerous than staying in Nurmengard. At least while I'm here, the Ministries don't dare touch me in front of you."
"As for my next destination…" Lucien's lips slowly curved upward. "I think you've already guessed it."
"Britain."
Grindelwald narrowed his eyes thoughtfully.
"The Austrian and German Ministries will increase surveillance after today. Continuing operations here will become extremely difficult." He nodded slightly. "So instead of clashing with them directly, you want to seek a new path elsewhere."
"And," Lucien added with a grin, "I can also get a little revenge on your behalf."
"Oh?"
"Think about it," Lucien said temptingly. "Dumbledore spends years carefully raising talented students at Hogwarts…"
"And then one by one…"
"They all join the Saint Group instead."
A dangerous gleam instantly appeared in Grindelwald's mismatched eyes.
Lucien had already decided long ago that Hogwarts was his ideal destination.
Not only because of the Saint Group's future development—
—but also because of the system.
Compared to Durmstrang or Beauxbatons, Hogwarts was the center of the entire story. Harry Potter, Voldemort, Dumbledore… every major event would unfold there.
If achievement points could be earned through influence and accomplishments, then Hogwarts was practically a gold mine.
Talent alone mattered.
But system rewards mattered too.
"But there's one problem." Grindelwald suddenly smirked mischievously. "You don't have a Hogwarts acceptance letter."
Lucien narrowed his eyes immediately.
The orphanage where he was abandoned had been located in Britain. Today was also his eleventh birthday.
Under normal circumstances, Hogwarts should have already sent him a letter.
The fact that he still hadn't received one meant only one thing.
The old man hid it.
Seeing Lucien's suspicious stare, Grindelwald finally waved his hand with obvious dissatisfaction.
An owl immediately flew out from behind him carrying an envelope.
"You're becoming less adorable every year," Grindelwald complained. "Imagine suspecting your own father."