It was obvious that Lucas was trying to put psychological pressure on Ian. But inwardly, his emotions were much more conflicted than he let on.
Ian had already sensed the mixture of fear, concern, and hesitation swirling in the old werewolf's heart. And that was completely understandable, plenty of the werewolves here were in far worse ntal shape than Lucas.
After all, any wizard living in Britain knew that the most dangerous force in this land wasn't the Ministry of Magic.
The Ministry still had to follow laws to act against soone. The pure-blood families needed at least a pretext. But a powerful wizard with no attachnts and no one to answer to? They could act entirely on their own whims.
Who in their right mind would want to provoke the greatest white wizard of the century?
"I don't quite agree with what you're saying." Ian ignored Lupin, who was now tugging on his sleeve like crazy in a silent panic, and looked around at the towering werewolves surrounding him.
"Oh?" The old werewolf let out a scoffing laugh.
"Is that arrogance standard for spoiled little brats like you?" At this point, he actually believed Lupin's earlier claims a lot more, Ian's whole attitude made him look like a boy who'd been coddled and protected, unaware of how dangerous the world could be. The kind of reckless youth that usually ca from self-important pure-blood families.
Which only strengthened Lucas's conclusion:
Even if this young wizard wasn't a descendant of Dumbledore's house, he clearly ca from a very privileged background. A kid from an ordinary family wouldn't be this oblivious to danger.
…Unless there was sothing seriously wrong with his brain.
"Quick, show them your Phoenix!" Lupin had sensed the increasingly hostile looks from the surrounding werewolves, and panic crept into his voice as he urgently hoped Ian would produce so solid proof.
"You really think they'd believe it?" Ian replied softly, clearly helpless.
"…"
Lupin thought back to Ian's Phoenix, the one with the wrong color, the wrong call, and a sowhat off appearance, and for a mont, he fell silent, unsure of how to respond.
"Besides… I really don't belong to Dumbledore's house. The Phoenix was just a gift from a friend..." Ian's attempt to clarify his identity at that mont seed incredibly foolish to Lupin.
Moreover—
Ian had made no effort to lower his voice, and every word fell loud and clear into the ears of the gathered werewolves.
The very next second, it wasn't just the old werewolf Lucas whose face darkened; every werewolf nearby shifted their gaze, and one particularly short-tempered werewolf erupted in rage.
"I knew this hypocrite was lying to us! Another deception! He's not one of us!" A sharp-cheeked werewolf shouted angrily.
Before the cautious old werewolf, who still wanted to figure out what "gift from a friend" ant, could restrain him, the young werewolf had already raised his wand and cast magic at Lupin and Ian.
"Diffindo!"
The young werewolf's voice was loud and clear, his pronunciation crisp. However, the spell's power wasn't particularly strong, and the beam of light fired from his wand wasn't very fast.
"Protego!"
Even Lupin was able to raise his wand in ti to block it with a Shield Charm.
"Lucas! Are you sure you want to do this!?" Lupin quickly turned to the old werewolf, the leader of the pack. The old werewolf had already stepped in and forced down the hot-headed youth's wand.
"We have no intention of harming you or the child you brought, provided you let us cast a mory Charm on him. Or, if you prefer, you can do it yourself, just make sure he forgets everything from today."
There was no doubt about the old werewolf's strength. Just one look from him made the young werewolf lower his head. As he turned back slowly, his tone beca utterly firm and uncompromising.
There was no choice left.
Since Ian had admitted he wasn't related to Albus Dumbledore, the old werewolf saw him, at best, as a kid from a pure-blood family, not worth infecting or risking things over.
"We can negotiate other terms," Lupin replied without hesitation.
"If you can offer another option that convinces us, of course. But first, hand over your wand. We all know your magical abilities aren't to be taken lightly."
Old werewolf Lucas didn't flat-out refuse, but to Lupin, his words were as good as a rejection.
As a wizard—
How could he possibly give up his wand voluntarily? That would be no different from surrendering. Having sothing that made the other side wary was what gave him the power to negotiate. Giving up his wand ant putting his life in their hands.
"You know that's impossible. A wand is a wizard's life." Lupin wasn't about to gamble on it, he didn't think werewolves had any better credibility than the pure-blood families.
"Then there's nothing to talk about. Convenient, I'm not good at negotiating anyway."
Old werewolf Lucas made his stance clear. From his tattered robes, he drew his own wand.
"I'll erase today's mory from both of you. And as for you, my kin, I'll be taking back the help I gave you. I'm reclaiming the Awakening Potion I gave you earlier."
As he spoke, he pointed his wand gently into the air. The next mont, a flaming lizard appeared from thin air, its entire body engulfed in roaring fire as it lunged at Lupin with its jaws wide open.
"Pretty impressive, honestly." Ian still had the presence of mind to comnt. And truly, for a wandering werewolf, to successfully transform a Fire-Making Spell into such a conjuration without an incantation was quite rare.
Even many excellent Hogwarts graduates couldn't manage that, Lupin, for example.
"Confringo!"
Lupin had no choice but to fight back with an Exploding Charm enhanced by another spell. Two flaming magical forces clashed in midair, and the very next mont, an intense explosion rang out, echoing through the space.
The surrounding crumbling walls, under the intense magical crossfire, were reduced to rubble in an instant. Stones and bricks were blasted into the air one after another.
And then—
They rained down like a storm. So werewolves who had never learned proper magic imdiately panicked and scrambled to dodge. Chaos broke out across an area roughly the size of a basketball court.
"Roar~ Roar~"
So werewolves, provoked by the disturbance, transford on the spot. With furious howls, they began to grow thick patches of fur, their eyes turning blood-red.
Even their bodies grew more muscular, their enhanced physical forms allowed them to endure the falling debris. The pain only deepened the rage in their eyes.
(To Be Continued…)
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