Around the long, cold table, the mbers of Bronze Feather sat or stood in silence.
Although they had achieved an overwhelming victory not long ago, there was no joy in the air.
Lupin wiped down his wand, his brows tightly furrowed.
Over the past few days, several familiar mbers of the Order of the Phoenix had sent him letters.
The words written on the parchnt seed like ordinary greetings and expressions of concern, yet between the lines they always indirectly probed for information about "Bronze Feather."
They were trying to learn the organisation's intentions and movents through him. Every letter felt like a silent interrogation, adding further weight to his shoulders.
"Have we... revealed ourselves too early?"
Snowy Owl's voice was quiet, but it clearly expressed the concerns shared by most of those present. Several pairs of eyes turned toward Sagres at the sa ti, waiting for his answer.
"Everyone's attention is on us now. It feels as though we've lost the advantage that cos from remaining in the shadows," she said hesitantly.
Sagres, while casually manipulating several constantly shifting Occamy feathers in his hand, replied without even lifting his head.
"We chose concealnt not to hide, but to gather strength, observe our enemies, and wait for the right mont, never because we feared being seen."
He slowly closed his fingers, and the feathers instantly fell still. Only then did he raise his eyes, his gaze sweeping across every mber present.
"Take Britain as an example. Before this, the Ministry of Magic was cowardly and incompetent. Voldemort's shadow, though not yet fully ford, had already filled everyone with fear..."
"The pure-blood families played both sides, wavering endlessly. The entire British wizarding world was like a sinking ship. Tragically, most people pretended not to see the holes in the hull, while so even continued widening them without pause."
"We stepped forward not to display power, but to shatter this false peace."
He calmly put away the feathers and continued, "I want everyone to understand this: the old rules no longer apply. Cowardice will no longer be tolerated. Compromise will no longer have value. Darkness will no longer be allowed to run rampant."
"Yes, so people will be afraid, like Fudge. He will see as a threat and attempt to use his bureaucratic tricks to sar and contain us. Good. That only proves we struck where it hurts."
"A united and efficient Ministry of Magic that indiscriminately seeks compromise would only beco an obstacle to us. But a divided, fearful Ministry constantly consud by internal conflict does not even qualify to stand in our way."
"And as for those pure-blood families," he continued, his tone suddenly deepening, "their fear and suspicion are exactly what we want. The fate of those Death Eaters is a clear warning. It will hang like the Sword of Damocles over the heads of everyone who imitates or attempts to imitate them. Perhaps this will force so desperate people to throw themselves entirely onto Voldemort's side—"
He paused briefly.
"—But that doesn't matter. Because it will allow us to distinguish friend from enemy more quickly and tear away their hypocritical masks."
"We may have lost the convenience of remaining in the shadows, but we have gained sothing far more important."
Sagres's gaze suddenly beca piercing as it slowly swept across the room.
"We have established an absolute symbol of power. We are no longer scattered 'disruptive elents,' but a decisive force that no one can afford to ignore."
"From now on, every faction, whether the International Confederation of Wizards, the British Ministry of Magic, Dumbledore, Voldemort, or those fence-sitters, will have to consider our existence, speculate about our intentions, and fear our intervention before making any decision."
When his voice fell silent, the room remained quiet.
Sagres gradually let go of his cold tone before continuing more calmly.
"Of course, stepping into the sunlight also brings things that remaining in the shadows never could."
"For example, just yesterday, I received a letter from Egilbert Fontaine, Headmaster of Ilvermorny School of Magic."
He turned his gaze toward Thunderbird. "He stated that he is preparing to step down and intends for Thunderbird to succeed him as Headmaster."
All eyes imdiately turned toward Thunderbird.
The old man's lips curved into a faint smile as he nodded steadily.
"Indeed."
His voice was deep, carrying a trace of helplessness. "He also sent a formal letter. The wording was extrely sincere. He claid that old age had left him exhausted and that Ilvermorny urgently required 'more forward-thinking leadership,' and therefore he 'strongly recomnded' to take over as Headmaster."
Those words caused subtle and complicated expressions to appear on the faces around the table.
The position of Headmaster of Ilvermorny School of Magic represented far more than honour. It carried imnse influence over the North Arican wizarding world.
No one spoke, yet the silent atmosphere in the room had already shifted away from its earlier gloom.
For the first ti, they truly realised that by stepping into the sunlight, power was quietly beginning to approach them from unexpected directions.
Sagres lightly raised a finger, making a gesture inviting the others to continue sharing.
"I doubt Thunderbird is the only one who's received so special 'greetings.' You've all encountered a few unexpected 'troubles' over the past few days, haven't you?"
Stork adjusted his glasses. "This morning, Winrose, the long-unseen editor-in-chief of the Wizarding Confederation Gazette, 'coincidentally' ran into . He spent nearly half an hour complaining about the current difficulties of reporting and the chaos of public opinion. In the end, he rather aningfully ntioned that he was looking for a successor, soone who 'deeply understands the complicated global situation and possesses extraordinary decisiveness.' Before leaving, he gave his private contact information."
The conference room instantly fell silent enough to hear a pin drop before several pairs of eyes suddenly lit up.
Everyone knew that the Wizarding Confederation Gazette was the official mouthpiece of the International Confederation of Wizards, and the editor-in-chief's stance was often considered a baroter of public opinion.
Even if Stork had not yet taken the position, the influence implied by such an obvious hint already far exceeded anything previously within his reach.
Then Robin chuckled softly, her tone carrying a playful hint of sarcasm.
"My changes aren't as dramatic as yours, but they're interesting enough. My boss, who normally treats his subordinates worse than house-elves, suddenly beca incredibly generous. Not only did he take over my mountain of work, but with a beaming smile, he announced that because of my recent 'outstanding contributions'..."
She deliberately paused, as though savouring the absurdity of the phrase.
"...I've been specially promoted to Office Manager of the International Magical Transportation Departnt. Which ans I suddenly have plenty of free 'personal ti,' perfect for focusing on so of my own matters."
A few quiet laughs spread through the room.
The position of Office Manager of the Floo Network Office within the International Magical Transportation Departnt might not sound particularly impressive, but it effectively controlled the lifeline of cross-border wizarding travel across the world.
The more unstable the situation beca, the greater its strategic value would be.
Sagres listened in silence until the final mber had finished speaking before he slowly said,
"You see? This is the advantage of standing in the sunlight."
"Shadows can certainly grant us certain conveniences, but sunlight can rapidly provide us with genuine influence and power."
"They have witnessed our strength and sensed our will. We are no longer a variable they can afford to ignore, but a force they must face directly, and even attempt to win over or compromise with. What they offer us are not gifts, but 'ransoms,' tickets to temporary peace."
"They are trying to bind us with power, to appease and even ta us through the rules of the system. They fear power they cannot control, and so they are eager to place reins upon us, only these reins are forged from gold and authority."
His gaze swept slowly across the faces of every mber present.
"And all of this is precisely what we need. The resources and perspective these positions provide could never be obtained through short-term concealnt. Accepting them does not an being absorbed into the system. It is rely the first step in extending our influence into the very core of global magical power."
"We will use their rules to ultimately reshape their rules. We will use the authority they personally place into our hands to lay the foundation for an entirely new order."
He suddenly rose to his feet, his sharp gaze sweeping across the room.
"There is no need for doubt, and no need for resistance. Accept this 'favour' calmly. It only proves that our strategy is working. Their fear is already beginning to transform into submission without them even realising it."
"What we need to do is seize the authority they offer us, and then..."
He paused briefly, pronouncing each word with deliberate clarity.
"...use it to wield the sword more effectively."
Hogwarts, Headmaster's Office.
Dumbledore stood before the Pensieve as silver-white strands of mory coiled and swirled within the basin before finally settling into stillness.
He had just finished reviewing the eyewitness mories provided by mbers of the Order of the Phoenix and several absolutely trustworthy allies.
Flas, screams, judgent, and deterrence.
His blue eyes no longer carried their usual warmth or humour. Only an endless exhaustion remained.
Fudge's confusion, the Ministry of Magic's weakness, the Death Eaters' growing boldness, the wavering pure-blood families... and Sagres's extre thods.
All of these fragnts combined into an increasingly dangerous picture.
"If you ask , Albus, you're the one who brought this man in."
Phineas Nigellus's portrait spoke slowly from the wall, his tone carrying a trace of mockery. "And now you may have unleashed a beast even less restrained than the Dark Lord himself. He clearly has little respect for your philosophy of 'love and understanding.'"
Dumbledore did not turn around. He rely sighed softly.
"To fight darkness, different hunters are sotis necessary, Phineas. Sagres is doing things that I believe are necessary, but which I cannot personally bring myself to do."
"Like turning wizards into Muggles?"
The portrait of Edessa Sakndenberg spoke sharply. "This crosses a line, Albus. This is completely different."
"Yes, I know," Dumbledore admitted heavily. "This is a dangerous path. I must ensure that he does not descend into an abyss beyond all of our control."
He looked toward Fawkes, who stood quietly upon his perch.
"At the sa ti, we must also ensure that Minister Fudge's fear does not drive him into doing even more foolish things, pushing Sagres entirely to the opposite side, or even forcing him to establish a new order."
...
[Shocking Insider Information! Mystery Behind the World Cup Riot, Unknown 'Third Party' Force Erges?]
For several days, magical newspapers across the world were filled with sensational headlines.
Reporters exaggerated the tragedy at the World Cup campsite to the extre, describing the horrific scenes in vivid detail while heavily sensationalising the brutality of the Death Eaters, though on that point, they were not lying.
However, the articles quickly shifted direction, collectively focusing on "a group of mysterious wizards of unknown identity who employed cruel thods."
The reports hinted that the conflict might involve "hidden currents within the international wizarding world," and subtly raised questions: Why had this group of "mysterious figures" appeared so quickly? What was their true objective? Were they connected to certain "forces attempting to break free from the constraints of the International Confederation of Wizards"?
Throughout the articles, no nas were directly ntioned, although many people already knew perfectly well who these so-called mysterious wizards were.
Between the lines, the reports all implied the existence of an uncontrolled and unknown private ard force, greatly intensifying public fear.
Official statents from various Ministries of Magic were tucked away in obscure corners of the newspapers, vague and utterly unconvincing.
Yet just as the rumours were reaching their peak, a newly announced piece of news suddenly tightened the flow of public opinion like an invisible hand.
Headmaster Egilbert Fontaine of Ilvermorny School of Magic announced his retirent for personal reasons, and declared that Bariknar Wolf, Dean of Thunderbird House, would succeed him as Headmaster.
The mont this news was released, all the heated speculation and discussion surrounding the "third-party force" abruptly quieted, leaving behind only a thoughtful silence.
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