But that person probably won’t appear for another year and a half, so there’s no need to worry prematurely... Moreover, without Peter Pettigrew, his resurrection is another matter.
Vid’s mind turned a circle, and the thought quickly faded away like a dream during sleep, disappearing in a short ti.
Grindelwald just casually ntioned, then said, "Dumbledore will probably show up with people soon... by then you can find an opportunity to leave on your own."
Although he was speaking with Vid, his eyes flickered with complex anings, Vid nodded without speaking, silently stepping back two paces to distance himself from this leader of Dark Wizards who was bad for people’s hearts.
...
Donovan wiped the blood from his face, hiding in the ruins of the building, watching the scene on the battlefield from afar with horror in his eyes.
Not far away, under the collapsed concrete column, pressed another werewolf nad Cruise; one of his arms had been blown off, now his whole body was charred, intermittently groaning in pain, unlikely to live much longer.
Donovan knew that if Lady Luck hadn’t favored him today, perhaps the one lying on the ground waiting to die would have been himself.
He was in the first batch of dispatched cannon fodder troops, but Donovan didn’t want to risk his life for the organization. Taking advantage of ordinary soldiers not daring to restrain him, a werewolf, Donovan pretended to hide in the bathroom to waste ti, secretly observing through the small window in the bathroom, preparing to later inform Dumbledore.
And precisely because of this, he was fortunate to survive the paper plane bombing attack, suffering only so minor injuries.
On the distant battlefield, bursts of fire occasionally exploded. The wounded and dead wizards were taken away by their companions and disappeared, leaving only Donovan’s nominal comrades on the ground.
The walkie-talkie still transmitted cold, ruthless orders: "Press Group C and Group F forward too! Don’t fear sacrifice, rember your mission is to lead the enemy into the manor... Everything is in the plan, victory still belongs to us..."
Not far away, the werewolf Cruise took his last breath, finally quieting down with an open mouth, ending this long and painful tornt.
Donovan felt a sense of tragic kinship with the dead, took off the walkie-talkie, threw it on the ground, stomped on it fiercely, spat out a mouthful of bloody saliva, and bent down to leave this temporary hiding place.
The ones killing them were the wizards opposite.
But the ones forcing them to beco werewolves, having to go out to die, were those scum hiding underground issuing orders!
Donovan’s hatred was very clear; he sent a ssage to Dumbledore, then hid and sneaked along a hidden entrance into the underground passage.
This place was once so people’s den of debauchery, the underground construction larger than the surface villas, extending in all directions with intersecting pipes overhead.
Donovan hid his shoes, swiftly climbed on top of the pipes, glanced at the direction, then crawled along the pipes like an agile cat.
Many impeccably dressed "social elites" once ca and went here, and not long ago there were many soldiers, but now it seed empty, with only occasional glimpses of a team running past.
The organization had so wizards skilled in deleting and modifying people’s mories. Those soldiers, under the effect of magic, turned into the organization’s puppets, even executing orders to die without hesitation.
Though mories caused pain, Donovan was glad he never forgot who he was.
He crawled for a while, suddenly hearing sounds coming from below the room—
Soone angrily shouted, "What’s going on? Those wizards haven’t taken a single step into the manor! Did soone leak the news?"
Another voice retorted, "Only a few know there’s a strong magnetic field generator hidden in the manor, even Abigail doesn’t know. Who do you think would betray?"
A third voice tried to placate them, "It’s said Grindelwald can prophesy, presumably he foresaw danger in the manor, hence his delay in entering. When he thinks most people have been killed, he’ll definitely co—after all, what they want is John Adler."
"That coward has already fled!"
"The double is still here! Before the Polyjuice Potion wears off, even Grindelwald can’t tell the real from the fake!"
"If the Polyjuice Potion could be used, why wasn’t it used from the start?" soone complained, "Do you know how hard it was for to endure that arrogant Muggle?"
"I just said they have prophecy ability," another person impatiently remarked, "If the target was sent away in advance, would they still step into the trap?"
"It’s a pity the magnetic field attenuated too quickly... Ti Powder also seed ineffective..."
"Heard it’s mixed with a small portion of real stuff among fake ones, blown by the wind it scatters, it’s normal the effect isn’t significant... The real thing is inside!"
"...So when will they co in?"
Donovan didn’t listen further, quietly crawling along the pipes away.
He knew about those generators. Recently, many trucks secretly drove into the manor at night, filled with weapons specially made against magic power, no matter how powerful a wizard couldn’t withstand them.
Originally, Donovan didn’t have the level to know this kind of intel, but he had many friends, among whom one was a Vampire with excellent hearing, that guy liked to beco a bat and roam around at night.
Thinking that kid had actually escaped earlier but suddenly turned direction inexplicably and went straight into the explosion center, Donovan gritted his teeth and kept crawling.
Once the Vampire kid saw the generators being unloaded from the trucks and where they were sent, during break ti Donovan bragged to him a bit, and he told Donovan everything.
Magic could wipe people’s mories but couldn’t erase the passion for gossip.
Recalling the layout and intel he gathered, Donovan crawled past a few corridors, finally seeing that enormous, gray-white machine.
Overall it looked like the lower part of a rocket, the main structure enveloped, with several thick and thin pipes connected to the bottom and sides.
Donovan stood before the generator, silent for a mont.
He couldn’t understand the structure of this thing, nor did he know what those pipes were used for or the purpose of those valves and knobs.
But then he thought, he didn’t need to learn to use this thing, he just wanted to destroy it—destroying machines is no difficult task, right?
Donovan pulled out his military knife, cutting all the wires he could see, then went to find the next target.
After cutting the third, Donovan suddenly heard a tiny voice behind him: "Good morning, sir!"
The werewolf jumped in fright, the hairs on his back standing on end; he leaped onto the top of the generator, looking over shaken.
A neatly dressed creature standing only a ter tall stood on the ground, looking up at him in surprise.
—A House-Elf? No word that there were such creatures in the organization?
Gripping the knife, Donovan hesitated whether to pounce and kill this thing, but saw another House-Elf standing in the corner of the generator staring at him intently.
Donovan’s heart tightened, breaking out in a cold sweat.
"No need to fear, sir, Dobby ans no harm." Dobby said politely, "Dobby and Maki can offer you so help."
"But before that, please tell us first—" the other House-Elf Maki asked, "You’re from the manor, why ruin your own place?"
This House-Elf wore only a tea towel with a crest printed on it, even smaller in stature, yet his gaze was intimidating.
Donovan looked at the crest with the letter "H" in the center, a sudden inspiration struck him, and he instinctively said:
"I... I’m actually one of Dumbledore’s... who are you?"
"I see."
Maki didn’t answer the foolish question, looking up at the tall generator, saying:
"Maki heard those people’s discussions, this is the dangerous machine for wizards, right? Dobby, seems like before finding anyone, we must first destroy these things."
Extending a slender finger, arm-thick pipes instantly snapped.
Simultaneously, outside the manor on the battlefield, Grindelwald suddenly lifted his head, squinting his eyes, with fiery flas spewing out from the tip of his Magic Wand!
Ahead, the air suddenly twisted, flas flashed, the white-haired, white-bearded wizard suddenly appeared, cold expression, robe subtly floating in the air.
Dumbledore had arrived.
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