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Chapter 444: Sacrifice Always Comes at a Cost
A thick, black smoke surged upward, spreading wildly through the air—dense and suffocating. The stench of burnt flesh hung heavy, making it unbearable to approach.
A piercing alarm wailed from afar, growing louder as a red fire engine roared past along the side of the road. Its vibrant red body cut through the air like a streak of lightning. People on the sidewalk paused, and several cars stopped to let it pass. Passengers leaned out of windows, craning their necks, whispering to one another: “What’s going on up ahead? Why’s there a fire?”
Two plump men in police uniforms pulled up roadblocks, shouting, “Don’t get close! Return the way you came—or detour! There could be an explosion!”
Hearing this, those who had been grumbling about the disturbance turned and fled. But a few lingered, convinced they were far enough away that even an explosion wouldn’t reach them—better to witness the spectacle.
A black MPV also halted at the roadside. Inside, its occupants were pale-faced, showing no intention of getting out.
John Adler clutched his briefcase—the one he cherished like his life—his voice trembling. “H-hey… that direction… is that my estate?”
The white-gloved driver spoke calmly. “Yes, Mr. Adler.”
John stood frozen, unable to utter a word for a long time.
He’d known, deep down, that he was the bait. But before coming here, someone inside had promised him—on lettered oath—that this operation would succeed. His estate might suffer some damage, but he’d be compensated in other ways.
More business interests, for instance. Or a greater share of longevity potions.
And as for himself? He’d be completely safe.
—Safe?
If he hadn’t run fast enough, he’d be nothing but a roasted corpse right now.
Beside him, Abigail had already tucked her wand into her palm, fingers curled tightly around it. She tried to contact the people still inside the estate, but received no response. It was certain—everyone had been killed or captured.
Abigail didn’t understand why the plan had failed. In all previous simulations, their chances of victory were over sixty percent. Even if it failed, the escape rate for the core team was over ninety percent.
Yet the outcome had been nothing short of catastrophic.
—Had Dumbledore and Gellert Grindelwald joined forces? Or was it something else?
Could it be that some wizards, like legends claimed, suddenly unlocked greater power when faced with crisis?
But regardless, with no one surviving to escape, there was no way anyone could find her or Adler.
On the bright side—maybe they hadn’t reported Adler’s cowardly retreat yet. After all, though the man was detestable in personality, he was generous with money.
A flicker of danger flashed in Abigail’s eyes. Her wand slid silently from her sleeve, just a fraction of an inch.
She’d fought in countless battles since childhood. Silent spells were second nature to her.
John Adler didn’t notice the subtle movement beside him. He fumbled with his intervention device, flipping through a contact list. “All gone… burned to ash. They promised compensation—three times what they offered. No, five times! No need to wait for others—everyone’s dead already. Let’s go to Hareson now.”
He was about to find the name he needed when his entire body locked up—frozen solid, as if turned to stone. Not a single finger moved.
His phone slipped from his hand, falling toward the floor—only to be caught mid-air by a steady hand, then snapped shut.
Cold sweat broke out across John’s forehead. His eyes darted frantically. His bodyguard and driver had also become statues—motionless, silent, their breaths so faint they were nearly undetectable.
The only one still able to move inside the car—the seemingly kind wizard bodyguard.
John understood.
He stared at her, stunned and terrified, unable to comprehend why she’d turned on them so suddenly.
Abigail looked at the six strong men—former special forces operatives, elite snipers, even a former boxing champion. Each one had superior close-combat ability compared to her.
Yet they hadn’t realized what had happened until magic had already frozen them.
The secret keeper in the back seat, however, hadn’t been caught in the spell—due to her low-ranking status and obscure connections. But she sensed the sudden stillness around her. Without thinking, she lunged toward the door, trying to yank it open—only to realize her position made it impossible.
A thin wand tip now pressed against her nose.
She raised her hands, forcing a nervous smile. “Why? Miss Abigail… if you’re unhappy with the payment, we can negotiate. I’m sure Mr. Adler would be willing to pay whatever price would truly move you.”
John frantically nodded, silently echoing her words.
Abigail suddenly spoke, her voice calm. “Do you know… my parents died because of two reckless wizards?”
The woman hesitated. “I… I’m so sorry… that’s terrible…”
“I joined this organization to avenge them,” Abigail said. “I believe wizards who act without restraint shouldn’t exist in this world. The boss leads us to build a new order—one where every being, regardless of race or magical ability, is bound by law. No one should be allowed to abuse power freely.”
The woman smiled weakly. “What a noble ideal… That’s why Mr. Adler supports your cause every year with massive funding…”
John’s eyes welled up, desperate for her to keep talking.
But Abigail froze her in place. Her expression remained blank. “I know. I understand that sacrifices are necessary. Innocents will suffer. I’m even willing to be the blade of the organization—using my wizard identity to steal secrets, alter memories, harm those I don’t wish to harm, kill the parents of innocent children, and send children who could’ve gone to school straight into our base to be trained as soldiers.”
“‘Those who refuse to sacrifice anything,’ they told me, ‘can never change anything.’ Short-term pain and loss are inevitable. But they lead to greater progress—so future generations can live in a better, fairer world.”
She paused.
“I was lied to.”
“Not by you. But you’re still part of this organization’s evil. And so am I—stupid, blind, and foolish.”
Before the woman could speak, a green killing curse struck her chest. She screamed, her body jerking violently before collapsing into her seat, dead.
The witch turned her wand toward the others, their panicked eyes.
“Sorry, everyone… I hope in our next lives, we can all be ordinary.”
…
A few flashes of green light pierced the car. The dark windows flickered faintly—but thanks to the tinted film, the glow was barely visible.
All the bodyguards lay slumped in their seats, pale-faced, no wounds on their bodies, all dead.
John was on the verge of losing control.
His eyes bulged, pupils stretched to the limit, trembling as he stared at Abigail, pleading with his eyes—offering any deal, any price.
She saw it.
But she didn’t relent.
Her wand pointed at his head.
“Dementor’s Kiss.”
…
Half an hour later, a witch in a baseball cap walked down from the car, head lowered. She slipped the crystal vial containing the silver memory into her backpack, glanced around, then pulled the door shut behind her.
Far off, the black smoke had thinned. People had gathered at a small inn a few hundred meters away, drinking and gossiping excitedly about the unfortunate fate of Mr. Adler’s estate.
No one else was around.
Hidden in her sleeve, the wand gave a gentle shake.
The car on the roadside suddenly started. It inched forward down the slope, gaining speed, until it smashed through the guardrail and plunged into the open sky.
Boom—
A massive explosion echoed from the steep ravine below.
Abigail stood still, watching the flames rise. In her mind, she replayed the scenes from the streaming mirror video—images she’d long ignored.
The truth, so brutally exposed, so undeniable, unfolded before her.
The organization she’d served, the colleagues she’d trusted—so cruel, so merciless. They had no ideals, no principles. Only endless greed and plunder. They treated wizards and non-magicals alike as disposable tools—no pity, no guilt.
The parasites lived in luxury, craving power and immortality, while crushing others without remorse.
She’d searched John Adler’s mind thoroughly—confirmed it.
She’d joined this group to avenge her parents. But the organization’s crimes were a thousand times worse than those of the two reckless wizards who’d killed them.
Slowly, she exhaled.
Then turned and walked into the nearby woods.
…
Wade sat in the Headmaster’s Office at Hogwarts, cradling a teacup, feeling so relaxed he could’ve fallen asleep.
This sense of peace—something he hadn’t noticed while possessing it—was now impossible to ignore. He realized how precious it truly was.
But it wasn’t time to sleep yet.
Dumbledore had brought him back, then rushed off to fetch others, leaving with only a brief departure. Wade knew he’d return soon.
He sipped his hot cocoa, then wandered the room aimlessly.
The sleeping portraits and the floating silverware remained unchanged.
Near the wall, a new space had appeared—a miniature world, rich with life, as if nature itself had been condensed into a single, intricate landscape.
Mountains three to four feet high rose beside the wall. A winding stream flowed through them, its bed paved with tiny pebbles. Wildflowers, no larger than grains of rice, dotted the grassy banks.
On the mountainside, a miniature forest thrived. Dumbledore’s magical animal puppets were scattered across their preferred spots—some even more numerous now. Tiny rabbits, the size of fingernails, and squirrels the size of peas darted among the trees.
At the base of the mountain stood a small house. Five miniature human puppets—family of five—lived there. One poured water, another fed chickens, a third napped atop a haystack. Two others lay on the attic floor, playing gobstones.
After a while, the “mother”—who had just finished feeding the chickens—used her spoon to rouse her sleeping son, then called the two playing children downstairs.
The family grabbed baskets and stepped outside, heading off to pick mulberries.
Simple, rustic life. But full of quiet joy. Watching them, Wade felt his own mind grow calm.
He was about to pour himself a glass of water when he turned—and saw Dumbledore had returned.
The Headmaster looked the same as before, smiling gently. He gestured for Wade to sit across from him.
“Professor,” Wade said. “Your miniature world keeps getting more detailed.”
“Yes,” Dumbledore smiled. “Sometimes, when my thoughts grow chaotic, I watch them and find peace. Though I’ve said it many times, I must say it again—this is truly a remarkable invention, Wade.”
Wade smiled. “Thank you, Professor.”
“Tell me about your time,” Dumbledore said. “I imagine you have much to share.”
…
The candle flame in the Headmaster’s Office dimmed, fading until it was extinguished.
Outside, dawn had broken. Warm sunlight streamed through the window, painting soft shadows across the floor, blurring the edges of the frame.
Wade could hear students laughing in the distance.
Far off, the Quidditch pitch buzzed with motion—figures darting and soaring through the air. Players training, no doubt.
He suddenly remembered—around a month from now, it would be the Ravenclaw vs. Slytherin match.
“Gellert Grindelwald’s attitude confuses me, Professor,” Wade said. “I understand his intent—sort of. But I don’t understand… why you?”
Dumbledore steepled his fingers. “Why you?”
“Yes. There are many gifted young wizards in the Wizard Purity Party, Durmstrang, or other nations.”
Wade continued. “I’m not arrogant, but I am your student. I’ve thought—perhaps Gellert Grindelwald chose me because he wanted to… to needle you.”
Dumbledore chuckled. “You underestimate your own worth, Wade. If I were Gellert Grindelwald, I’d place great hope in you. Of course, I don’t mean you should trust him completely.”
A flicker of coldness and complexity flashed in Dumbledore’s eyes. His gaze, sharp behind the half-moon spectacles, rested on the sunlight-dappled table.
“As I’ve told you before—Gellert Grindelwald is extremely dangerous. He can ignite hearts with words, make others adopt his ideals, and lead them to die for him without question.”
“The most dangerous thing about him? He makes people believe his goals are noble, his methods just, his actions for the greater good. But in truth, he achieves his ends by sacrificing others—without hesitation.”
“I don’t want you to be deceived, Wade. Because you have a clear mind, and you love your parents and friends. Even for their sake, you must never follow the path of darkness he walks.”
“But sometimes, we don’t choose our paths. We are pushed by forces beyond our control. So I must warn you—”
“Stay vigilant, Wade. Guard against the lure of power, the poison of thought. Constantly examine your heart. Remember—your choices reveal your true nature more than your abilities ever could.”
(End of Chapter)
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