The Old Ones of Hogwarts

Chapter 520, Section 529: The Eternal Gamble

Needless to say.

It's impossible for Dumbledore to have been this powerful in his youth.

"No! No! No! Don't come any closer! Don't come any closer!" The Death Eater staggered, barely managing to steady himself. His face was drained of color, leaving only a desperate pallor and incredulous horror. He looked up at Ian, his eyes filled with the madness of a trapped beast and the deepest fear.

"Who...who are you?!" The man's voice was hoarse and trembling, completely devoid of its previous arrogance and chilling demeanor, leaving only a blustering but ultimately weak question. "Do you know what you're doing? You're interfering with the Dark Lord's affairs! Attacking his servants! He will never let you get away with this!" He tried to invoke Voldemort's name, his greatest asset in the wizarding world, and the nightmare that struck fear into the hearts of countless wizards.

The Death Eater, whose cerebellum may not be well developed, hoped that this name would instill even the slightest fear in the other party.

Well, how should I put it?

Ian, of course, just found it funny.

"Tsk tsk tsk, the Dark Lord will definitely not let me go? Should I say I'm so scared?" Ian finally turned around and faced the Death Eater. His eyes remained calm, like a bottomless, icy pool, reflecting no ripples. He didn't even blink at the name "Voldemort".

"Voldemort?" Ian's tone was flat, as if discussing the weather. "Never heard of him."

Those four seemingly casual words carried more weight than any mockery or contempt. In the British magical world of 1979, to dare to call out the name of "that person whose name couldn't even be mentioned," and with such casualness, even carrying a hint of "Who is this? Does it matter?", was itself the greatest provocation and disregard.

The Death Eater's face flushed instantly—from humiliation and anger—but quickly turned ashen with fear. This opponent didn't even respect his master's name!

"Arrogance!" he hissed, trying to mask his fear with anger. "You will pay for your ignorance! The Dark Lord's power is beyond your imagination! He is the greatest wizard of our time! His wrath will burn you and everyone connected to you to ashes! Let me go now, and perhaps you can still…"

Well, how should I put it?

Although reason told the Death Eater that the person before him was stronger than Voldemort, he could only fight his fear by clinging to his loyalty and faith in Voldemort.

This is similar to the mentality of many people who are prone to despair, because if they don't grasp the only thing they can hold onto, they will have to face a cruel and hopeless truth.

Human nature is to escape.

"I'll tell you! The great Demon King..."

The Death Eaters wanted to bolster their courage.

"Noisy."

Ian interrupted him, his brow furrowing almost imperceptibly. The boy made no further complicated movements, simply raising his right hand, palm facing the Death Eater, and then gently clenching it.

There was no incantation light.

However, there were some magical fluctuations.

next moment.

"Aaaaaah!"

The Death Eater felt an irresistible and incomprehensible force descend upon him in an instant! It was not a physical compression, but a kind of constraint and stripping away of his very "existence"!

The protective magic surrounding him shattered like paper, and the magic within him froze like a river, completely ceasing to flow. He tried to struggle, tried to shout, but found he couldn't even utter a sound, as if he had been stripped of the right to speak. The Death Eater was completely rooted to the spot! Not even a finger could move, only his eyes could still move in terror.

This is one of the most rudimentary applications of the [Foundation of Order] authority—defining "Within this area, the target individual's magic is frozen, and their movements are impaired." "This guy's power..."

Jorkins watched in utter disbelief. He simply couldn't comprehend how Ian had done it.

Without waving a wand, chanting a spell, or even a noticeable fluctuation of magic, with just a raised hand and a clenched fist, a vicious Death Eater who had just been fighting him on equal terms was transformed into a puppet that could only blink! What inconceivable power was this?! Ian ignored Jorgins's shock and strode slowly towards the imprisoned Death Eater. His footsteps were exceptionally clear in the silence. He stopped in front of the Death Eater, the two of them almost touching.

The Death Eaters could clearly see Ian's calm, unwavering eyes, which seemed to contain the birth and death of stars and the trajectory of laws. There was no hatred or anger in his gaze, only a pure scrutiny, like observing a laboratory specimen, and a trace of... extremely subtle indifference that showed impatience with some kind of "trouble".

"Threatening me with Voldemort?" Ian spoke, his voice low but clear, like ice beads falling onto a jade plate. "Unfortunately, I have no interest in the internal strife of your wizarding world for the time being."

He paused, his gaze sweeping over a barely noticeable insignia on the Death Eater's black robes—a small snake coiled around a skull—Voldemort's mark. It was cleverly concealed, but it didn't escape his notice.

"However, since you have taken the initiative to attack others in front of me, affecting innocent people, and even tried to intimidate me with the so-called 'Dark Lord'..." Ian's tone remained calm, but the Death Eater felt that the temperature of the surrounding air seemed to drop a few degrees. "Well then, you should leave some 'souvenirs' and, by the way... send a message back."

The Death Eater's eyes flashed with extreme terror. He wanted to shake his head and beg, but he couldn't even twitch an eyebrow.

Ian extended his right index finger, a faint, yet chillingly dark green light swirling around its tip—a wisp of highly concentrated and tamed Ancient Flame. Though weak, it possessed a powerful "corrosive" and "high-ranking" quality. For a dark wizard with keen senses, it was tantamount to facing an abyss.

All I saw was...

Ian gently touched the Death Eater's forehead with his fingertip.

There was no pain, only an icy chill that penetrated to the bone, as if freezing the very essence of the soul, instantly invaded! The Death Eater felt as if his brain had been forcibly cleaved open, and fragmented images and information were brutally extracted—mainly memories related to the mission to hunt down Jorkins, as well as vague information about the locations where several Death Eaters gathered and communicated.

At the same time, a cold, undeniable "mark" was branded onto the outermost layer of his soul. That mark was not a Dark Mark, but an extremely abstract and minimalist silhouette of a raven.

It exudes an awe-inspiring, cold sense of order, a quality shared with Ian.

"Remember this aura," Ian withdrew his finger, the dark green light vanishing, his tone remaining calm. "And remember this mark. Go back and tell your master, and all your cowardly accomplices."

His voice was slightly lowered, yet it carried a clarity and weight that pierced the soul:

"The streets of my London are not a hunting ground for you to run rampant. If I ever see you so brazen in front of Muggles again..." Ian's gaze suddenly sharpened like an unsheathed ice blade, and the Death Eaters felt as if their souls had been pierced by that gaze:

"I wouldn't mind personally going to 'pay a visit' to this 'greatest wizard'."

The moment the words left his mouth, the power that had been binding the Death Eaters vanished.

The Death Eater collapsed to the ground, as if all his bones had been removed, gasping for breath, cold sweat instantly soaking through his inner shirt. He felt his magic flow return, but the cold raven mark deep within his soul, and the lingering chill on his forehead that seemed to freeze his thoughts, constantly reminded him that what he had just experienced was not a nightmare.

"you……"

The look in his eyes as he looked at Ian was filled with the deepest fear and awe, devoid of any ferocity or resentment, only the absolute obedience and trembling of a small animal facing its natural enemy.

"I understand." The Death Eater didn't dare to say another harsh word or polite remark. He scrambled to his feet, not even bothering to pick up his fallen wand.

Without looking back, he didn't even dare to use Apparition again. He staggered and scrambled to the nearest alley, his hasty escape leaving him looking utterly disheveled.

It quickly disappeared into the shadows.

The warm sunlight shone on the gleaming streets, and the Muggles continued their normal lives, oblivious to what had just transpired. Only a faint, lingering trace of magic in the air and Jorkins's heavy, terrified breathing testified to the unimaginable events that had taken place here.

Ian turned to look at Jorkins. His expression had returned to its initial calm and indifference, as if he had merely shooed away a noisy fly.

“Well then,” he began, his voice softening slightly, but sending a shiver down Jorgins’ spine, “Mr. Jorgins, one of Mr. Barty Crouch’s men, right? I think we need to talk.”

Jorgins shuddered, his face turning even paler. The other party not only knew his name, but also his superior, Barty Crouch, the Director of the International Department of Magical Cooperation!

Who exactly is the other party?!

Slumped in the middle of a London street that had been restored to its former glory, basking in the warm sun, Mr. Jorkins—was her full name Bertha Jorkins? No, that was another unfortunate witch. This was a wizard, his full name Cedric Jorkins, and he was not related to the future Hogwarts hero, Cedric Diggory.

It was just a coincidence.

He felt like his brain was still in a state of shutdown, unable to process everything that had just happened.

"What...what do you want to talk about?"

Cedric Jorkins, a Level 4 staff member in the Office of Magical Item Registration and Anomalous Energy Monitoring under the Department of International Magical Cooperation. In his early forties, his hair was prematurely gray, and his face bore the weariness and caution of long hours spent working on paper and studying obscure reports. He was of medium build, somewhat thin, and wore a dark green robe that looked quite worn, with barely perceptible signs of wear and repair on the cuffs and collar. He was not a battle wizard; rather, his combat talent had been unremarkable even during his time at Hogwarts. He graduated from Ravenclaw with an interest in ancient runes and the taxonomy of magical creatures.

The fact that he was able to hold out for a moment in the brief exchange with a vicious Death Eater was already an extraordinary performance. This was mainly due to his years of work in the monitoring office, which gave him some knowledge of identifying and responding to various black magic items, curses, and abnormal energy fluctuations, as well as... a little bit of his desperate instincts when cornered.

He wasn't a key figure in the Ministry of Magic, but he was by no means an insignificant nobody.

"I can tell you anything you want to know."

Johansson was respectful.

His part of the job involved tracking and recording the movement of certain transnational magical items, especially those that might carry dark magic or unknown dangers.

This job exposed him to a lot of information in the gray areas, and it also honed his cautious and discreet approach to life, helping him avoid trouble as much as possible. After all, in this era where Voldemort's influence is rampant and everyone is on edge, knowing too much or standing too conspicuously can bring disaster.

This is why he was being hunted by the Death Eaters—while inadvertently compiling a list of "antiques" flowing in from Eastern Europe, he discovered an item cleverly disguised, but whose energy characteristics closely matched those of a dark magic artifact he had recorded years ago, related to early Death Eater activities. He intended to quietly report it to his superior, Barty Crouch, the Director of International Magical Cooperation—a director known for his strictness, efficiency, and deep-seated abhorrence of dark magic. However, whether it was a leak at some point or the Death Eaters were inherently highly vigilant about this kind of "registration and monitoring," he was quickly targeted.

This morning, he had just left the Ministry of Magic and was heading to Diagon Alley to buy some protective materials to strengthen his home's defenses when he was blocked in a quiet back alley.

The other party clearly wanted to capture him alive and force him to reveal what he knew and the whereabouts of the list. Jorgins barely escaped the first roundup thanks to his familiarity with the surrounding terrain and a few emergency gadgets, but the Death Eater pursued him relentlessly. The two chased and fought all the way until he was finally forced to reveal himself on this Muggle street.

Then, the scene just now unfolded.

At this moment, Jorgins' heart was still pounding from surviving the ordeal and facing Ian's terrifying power. He watched as the black-haired youth—no, now in his eyes, this was an unfathomable being, an ancient legend walking among mortals—slowly approached him. The youth's face held a chilling calm.

This made Johansson very uneasy and fearful.

The other party even directly exposed his identity and superior! The immense pressure almost suffocated him. He struggled to stand up to show respect, but his legs were too weak to obey him.

"Your Majesty..."

Jorgins' voice was dry and trembling, filled with heartfelt reverence, "Th-thank you for saving me... As you said, I... I do work for the International Department of Magical Cooperation..."

He tried to assert his official status, perhaps to gain some sense of security.

"Don't be so nervous." Ian stopped in front of him and looked down at him slightly. Sunlight shone from behind Ian, making his face slightly backlit.

It adds to the mystery and sense of oppression.

"Mr. Jorkins, I only despise dark wizards," Ian said, his voice still calm and emotionless. "So, let's skip the formalities."

"I have a question that I need your answer."

He looked at the other person and spoke again.

It's clear that there's a real problem that needs to be asked.

that's the truth.

Ian may not have been fully aware of the situation before, but after reading the Death Eaters' memories, he discovered some more noteworthy oddities.

This incident.

It seems there were some human factors involved.