Here, only a few people could be considered benevolent, and Sagres interacted with them the most. As for the others… either Sagres already knew what they knew, or there was no need to engage with them.
The atmosphere was a bit tense. In the end, Albatross stepped forward to ease the tension and calm everyone down.
Then, the old man thodically arranged for the newcors to be seated and guided everyone back to the proper exchange of information.
The matter was simple: the curse-breaker Swift had recently discovered a hidden magical ruin. After a preliminary investigation, he was certain it was the resting place of a Papal Bishop from the 11th century.
According to the ancient texts he consulted, this tomb contained nurous valuable magical artifacts. However, the layered and highly trigger-sensitive magical chanisms deterred him. Ultimately, Swift chose to return to Bronze Feather to seek help from his companions.
Everyone was very interested in this commission—except Sagres. He had already entered that ruin during his travels and found nothing of value inside, but he clearly did not intend to share that information.
The next few commissions also revolved around the search for rare items and materials, and discussions rose and fell. Sagres, seated next to Snowy Owl, began to converse with her in low voices.
"It can probably extend life by five years?" he said uncertainly. "I'm not sure, but I heard the first use is the most effective."
With that, he took a small bottle from his pocket and handed it to Snowy Owl.
She took the bottle and examined it carefully, a slight smile playing on her lips as she nodded in satisfaction. Then, she took out an exquisite hourglass from her handbag and handed it to Sagres.
"Just to be clear, this thing can't be used directly…" Snowy Owl reminded him again. "It's already damaged."
Although she had ntioned this in her letter before, she repeated it out of professional ethics.
"Understood." Sagres nodded.
He put away the hourglass and, at the sa ti, reminded her, "You'd best take that thing as soon as possible. Otherwise, it might cause you trouble."
If Lord Voldemort knew she had it, he would certainly stop at nothing to seize it, even though this small bottle of potion was barely a drop in the bucket for him.
"Mn-nm."
Snowy Owl stared intently at the crystal bottle in her hand, nodding absentmindedly...
anwhile, the Goblin craftsman, who had been talking to soone else, suddenly froze. He turned his head, and a greedy light flickered in his swollen eyes, fixed on the small bottle in Snowy Owl's hand.
He was a well-inford Goblin—but also very old.
Crash!
Just as the transaction ended, the windows on both sides of the hall suddenly shattered, and flying glass shards shot toward everyone like sharp arrows.
The Goblin craftsman's expression changed drastically. He abruptly overturned the table and shouted accusingly, "Did you bring a tail, Professor?"
"Oh?" Sagres turned to glance at him and replied with disdain, "Why? Do I need to cooperate with others to deal with soone like you?"
The mont his words fell, Aurors from the Ministry of Magic descended from above. The roar was deafening, and Thunderbird imdiately cast a spell to shatter the chandelier, plunging the hall into darkness.
Several Lumos charms lit up almost simultaneously, illuminating everyone's panicked faces. In the chaos, the short Goblin finally couldn't suppress his inner greed and cast a sharp Cutting Spell at Snowy Owl's back.
He was attempting to snatch the Elixir of Life.
Sagres waved his wand, and a thick magical barrier appeared out of thin air, blocking the fatal blow aid at Snowy Owl.
At the sa ti, a subtle fluctuation swept through the air like lightning—and then, with a thud, the Goblin's raised arm fell to the ground.
"Save it, Glock." Sagres stepped on the Goblin's severed wrist, calmly waving his wand and forcing the other's shrill screams back down his throat.
"I suggest you save your strength. Otherwise, you won't be able to scream later."
Then he turned and scanned the chaotic hall, decisively snapping his fingers.
Reverse Gravity
In an instant, the gravity of the entire space reversed. Everyone was pulled by an invisible force, suddenly falling toward the ceiling, unable to move.
The brilliant spell light vanished, and darkness descended once more.
Selective Gravity Sinkhole
Sagres flicked his wand, and the seventeen mbers of Bronze Feather were drawn toward him as if by ropes, quickly gathering around him.
—Whether they wanted to or not, all were swept into the sudden spatial transfer.
After a violent surge of magic, the entire Bronze Feather group disappeared—leaving only a hall full of Aurors crashing down from the ceiling.
...
...
Safehouse in France.
The figures of eighteen people appeared out of thin air, instantly filling the not-so-large room.
"We have a traitor among us," Sagres announced expressionlessly.
A chilling atmosphere filled the air.
Sagres casually cast an Undetectable Extension Charm, and the safe house's space imdiately expanded several tis, no longer feeling cramped.
Imdiately afterward, he waved his wand again, and a Space Anchoring spell extinguished all possibilities of Apparition.
No one spoke.
The seventeen people stood still, their expressions shifting subtly as they stared at the Goblin lying on the ground, struggling silently—unable to make a sound.
Although the scene in the hall earlier had been chaotic, everyone had clearly witnessed his actions.
"Interesting…" Sagres toyed with his wand, scanning the room with a half-smile. "So, until the truth is uncovered, no one is allowed to leave."
This was far more interesting than exchanging information.
"Why?" The Dark Wizard Shrike's face darkened. "Since when did you have the right to give orders in Bronze Feather?"
Falcon and Pelican also nodded subconsciously.
It seed Sagres's blunt labeling of them as Dark Wizards had unintentionally united them.
However—
"Why?" Sagres looked at him and smiled, surprised that he would ask such a foolish question.
A flash of scarlet spell light appeared and vanished.
Splash~!
One mont, Shrike was standing—then he was nothing more than a splatter of blood and flesh, sared heavily across the wall.
Everyone shuddered in unison. Even Glock, still silently screaming on the ground, wisely shut his mouth, letting beads of sweat roll down into his eyes.
"Are you misunderstanding sothing?" Sagres said flatly. "I'm not asking you—I'm informing you."
His cold gaze swept across the room, a cruel smile twisting the corners of his lips.
This was a golden opportunity to thoroughly cleanse the ranks of Bronze Feather. Just like the freshly eliminated Shrike, he wished others would raise objections—he feared they wouldn't.
_____
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