The Nangdu Leopard, upon seeing the giant raven shadow Sagres had transformed into, unexpectedly turned and fled.
Its massive body streaked across the dunes at an astonishing speed, almost leaving a blurry afterimage in the moonlight.
"Eh? Trying to escape?" Sagres frowned, his wand tracing complex patterns in the air. "Sandstorm Liga!"
In an instant, the ground shook violently, and a hundred-meter-high wall of sand rose from the earth, swiftly closing in like a living entity, trapping the massive beast within.
Sagres descended from mid-air, his black robes flapping in the moonlight, and a second spell followed: "Quicksand Trap!"
A one-mile-diameter area of sand instantly liquefied, forming a massive vortex that swallowed everything.
The Nangdu Leopard struggled wildly in the quicksand, letting out deafening roars, its poisonous breath distorting the surrounding air.
Sagres hovered in mid-air, the tip of his wand glowing with ancient runic symbols. "Eternal Ice Coffin!"
An extreme cold swept out from him, freezing the sand particles it touched.
The entire quicksand area was frozen into a shimmering glacier within seconds, glinting with an eerie blue light under the moonlight. Through the ice, the beast's frozen roar was still clearly visible.
This ancient runic Magic was being used in actual combat for the first time, and its effect was unexpectedly good.
Sagres put away his wand, then took out a crystal bottle and tossed it into the air, beginning to absorb the poisonous mist pervasive in the air.
To ensure nothing was left to chance, he consecutively threw out more than a dozen spare containers. Only when the night sky cleared again and starlight once more cascaded down did he slowly put away the crystal bottle and turn to walk toward the village.
The surroundings were terrifyingly quiet; aside from the faint crunching of his footsteps on the sand, there was no other sound.
Under the moonlight, the neatly arranged houses appeared particularly eerie—no cries, no pleas for help, not even the chirping of insects or birds could be heard.
Pushing open the door of the nearest house, he found a family of five lying quietly on their beds, their faces serene as if still caught in a dream.
Sagres removed his Bubble-Head Charm, and the hot desert wind brushed against his taut face, carrying with it a faint, almost imperceptible scent of decay.
The death toll from this incident would likely break records for the past century.
As for who would be held responsible—the Ministry of Magic?
The local government?
Or the greedy Gringotts Goblins?
Sagres didn't know the answer. But one thing he knew for certain—these innocent villagers lying peacefully in their beds would never wake up again.
"Why is this world so... sigh.."
Sagres returned straight to the wooden hut.
As he pushed open the door, a pungent mixture of antidote and scorched flesh hit him. The Undetectable Extension Charm had turned the once-simple hut into a temporary field hospital, with dozens of beds filled with unconscious casualties.
He walked down the narrow aisle, his footsteps muffled by the rising and falling groans of pain. Members of Bronze Feather moved among them, the tips of their wands constantly flashing with the glow of healing spells.
The identities of the casualties were varied: several Gringotts Goblins, human Wizards employed by Gringotts, graduates of Wagadou in star-and-moon robes, and official members of the Sahel Sorcerer Alliance, their distinctive desert robes easily recognizable.
"More than thirty didn't make it," Hummingbird's voice came from behind him. She was using a Levitation Charm to move a box of freshly brewed antidotes. "The spread of the toxic mist was faster than expected; many didn't even have time to—"
Sagres also joined the rescue efforts.
As a wizard who had "furthered his studies" in the Library at Uagadou School of Magic, this rescue was both a responsibility and an obligation to him.
Once the condition of the last injured person had stabilized, Sagres immediately gathered all the members.
"Leave them here," he said, looking around at everyone. "We'll talk somewhere else."
His gaze fell on Robin, who immediately understood. "The nearest safe house is in Egypt."
"To Egypt, then." Sagres gave a slight nod, then added, "This safe house will be permanently abandoned. I'll erase all traces."
With that, he snapped his fingers.
Nine badges lit up simultaneously, and everyone vanished.
In the desolate Gobi Desert, a small house made of stone bricks stood alone.
The figures of the Bronze Feather members suddenly appeared, and the thick dust inside the house was abruptly stirred up. Sagres waved his wand lightly, and the dust condensed into broad tables and chairs.
"Who will handle the Nangdu Leopard?" He placed a crystal bottle on the table; the magical creature inside had been shrunk to a miniature size and was still writhing restlessly inside the bottle.
"I will. I have some dealings with Newt Scamander," Thunderbird raised a hand.
Sagres nodded. "I've cast a Dream-Confusing Charm on all survivors; they'll believe they were rescued by a standard International Confederation of Wizards team. The Memory-Weaving Charm is also complete—any memory of us has been replaced with unfamiliar faces."
His voice remained calm. "Even if clues are found later, they'll never lead to us."
However, to prevent Gringotts from evading responsibility and covering up the truth, he continued assigning tasks:
"Robin, later on, transfigure the wooden house to resemble a standard curse-processing station."
"Swift, destroy the safety procedures and Goblin-language warnings at the entrance of the ruins—but leave just enough evidence pointing back to Gringotts."
"Snowy Owl, scatter African Confusion Bugs around the ruins and the hut to generate misleading magical traces. Make sure to retrieve them after the operation."
"Stork, starting tomorrow morning, inform every media outlet that this disaster was caused by Gringotts excavating the ruins. And make sure Swift isn't made the scapegoat."
The candlelight flickered, casting a cold gleam in his eyes. "We're not just walking away clean—we'll make Gringotts pay the price for their greed."
"Move out," Sagres said, rising to his feet. "I'll head to the ruins myself to check if there are any other 'surprises' waiting inside…"
Back at the base of Mount Kusi, Sagres pushed through the twisted underbrush until a torn-open chasm came into view. The jagged rocks at the edge still carried fragments of broken protective runes, but deeper in, there were unmistakable claw marks.
It seemed to be a mutual journey, but with an unpleasant ending.
He raised his wand, and the light from the Lumos Charm illuminated the deep passage ahead.
The rock walls were covered in claw marks of varying depths, growing denser and more menacing the farther he walked.
Finally, at the end of the passage, a dusty alchemy laboratory came into view.
In the center of the room stood a massive shattered glass containment dome.
"Hmm.." Sagres crouched down, his fingertips brushing the faded protective runes on the fragments.
"Damaged three months ago," he muttered, narrowing his eyes. "Looks Nangdu Leopard had been imprisoned here for quite some time."
The top of the containment dome was connected to a complex system of brass pipes, with strange green crystals still clinging to the outer surfaces.
Sagres tapped his wand lightly, and a magical recording flickered intermittently to life: the poisonous mist was being precisely extracted, refined, and then channeled into a silver cauldron in the corner.
On the other side of the lab, another rune-engraved glass dome drew his attention.
Inside it floated a swirling mass of grayish-black energy—the lingering remains of a deceased Obscurus, still writhing faintly.
Sagres did not approach; such unstable energy could dissipate entirely with the slightest disturbance.
A red crystal shimmered ominously on a nearby stone platform, its glow amplified by the Lumos Charm. Sagres levitated it carefully.
A powerful magical fluctuation pulsed from within.
"This is—the Philosopher's Stone?" he murmured in disbelief.
Dust coated the parchment manuscript on the edge of the stone platform.
A Cleaning Charm swept over it, revealing scrawled, almost frantic handwriting:
"Plague Magic — On the Magical Enhancement of Infectious Agents"
"Magic Siphon — A New Interpretation of the Essence of Life"
"Several Advanced Applications of Flesh Transmutation"
"Research Notes on the Fragmentary Pages of the Book of Abraham"
In the corner, several mold-covered bird-beak masks lay quietly.
Sagres's pupils constricted slightly—he was all too familiar with this equipment. Fourteenth-century Black Death doctors and eighteenth-century plague spreaders had all walked among humans wearing such masks.
"It seems this is the mad laboratory of an Alchemist…" Sagres speculated. "Using the Book of Abraham for forbidden experiments, treating the Nangdu Leopard as a living venom factory, and also trying to create some kind of… with the Obscurus and Dark Arts."
His gaze fell on a pile of suspicious ashes in the corner. "Elixir of Immortality?"
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