Meanwhile, the pure-bloods had retreated back to the meeting room. A few of them who were too slow were knocking on the door. However, the people in the room had already reached a tacit understanding. The guards outside the door had already been eliminated, while the other guards were constantly casting layers of protective magic on the doors and windows of the room.
The atmosphere in the room was filled with panic, as if the end of the world was coming. Many people began to sob.
For these purebloods who had always been pampered, the usual fights between them did not involve their lives. It was more of a fight for wealth and power. Even if it involved murder, they would not do it themselves. Therefore, for many of them, it was the first time they had faced death at such a close distance, and faced such a bloody scene.
In the process of escaping, Bostel saw one of his guards die in front of him. He trembled all over, and his mouth was half open. He let out a hoarse scream, as if his chest had been cut open by a knife. He was carried into the meeting room by his guards. The fear of the people outside the room had now intensified.
Bostel did not have the usual expression of a shopkeeper. He seemed to be stronger than the others, but he gritted his teeth and did not speak for a long time.
"Calm down!" Herbert Bork sat in his wheelchair with a grim look on his face. Being pushed back and forth so quickly just now seemed to have made him a little uncomfortable. However, he and his butler seemed to be the calmest people in the room. "Alfred, how many minutes left?"
"Master, seven minutes to the hour …" The butler looked calm, but he was still a little upset. "I'm sorry, we should have been more careful and got more keys …"
"The guards are just too incompetent …" Herbert Bork was emotionless. He looked at the door and pointed at it. "All of you, do it now. Use your Transfiguration Spell to cover the doors and windows with metal. Then, make a new layer of protection … Escape to a place where they can't control us … Their so-called evidence is just to frame us."
The battle outside the meeting room soon ended. The armed Aura had cleared the corridor, and several leaders surrounded the meeting room where the purebloods were gathered.
"They used many spells to seal this room, and they are constantly strengthening it." Victor lowered his head slightly and said in a low voice, "Someone heard them shouting for the keys. They must be trying to buy time to escape."
Penello was lying upside down on the ceiling. She heard Victor's words and returned to the ground using a thick silver spider web. She then waved her giant claws, which could destroy magic, and said mockingly, "In their dreams. Let me do it."
"Penello, let me do it faster … Retreat to the bottom of the stairs." Albert's voice was unusually cold. Although his father did not suffer much from the assassination attempt, it made him, who was usually tolerant and honest, angry. "They like explosions. I'll make them explode."
The corridor on the second floor was cleared quickly. After Albert made some protection on the floor, a huge gray rhinoceros-like beast with a sharp horn on its nose and a tail like a long rope appeared where he was just now. It was Albert's Animagus, the venomous horned beast. Its strong body had crushed the surrounding walls, and the floor under its feet could not bear its weight. However, it was enough for Albert to throw its venomous horn at the door.
A few minutes later.
The director of the Aura Office of the Ministry of Magic, Rufus Scrimgeour, walked in through the broken door with a team of Aura patrolling behind him.
Scrimgeour's sharp eyes behind his gold-rimmed glasses took in the layout of the room. Unlike his usual straightforward style, he was shocked by the scene in front of him. There were a few corpses on the floor, and a few piles of ashes after the fire.
Upstairs were broken bricks and tiles after the explosion. A corpse's leg was hanging down from the broken railing. A group of half-dead pure-bloods. Apart from those who had thrown away their wands and were still intact, the rest of the sorcerers were more or less injured. These people were now strung together by a thick hemp rope. They looked listless and listless, and some of them could not help but groan in pain.
Scrimgeour was so shocked that his voice seemed to have become more hoarse. He accidentally revealed a tremor in his tone. "What's going on?!"
But none of the Aura brought by Albert answered him. Each of them was doing their own thing, as if they did not see Scrimgeour. Scrimgeour cursed in his heart. His eyes flashed with an uncontrollable anger. A deep wrinkle stretched from his lips to his wide chin.
Scrimgeour simply stopped asking about the situation. He glanced at the corpses with a sullen face. Suddenly, he quickly walked into the hall, squatted down in front of the goateed wizard's corpse, and said in shock and anger, "Isn't this the patriarch of the Servin family?! Such a big thing happened this time, and no one informed me? I'm still your office director! "
Albert and Victor were slowly walking down from upstairs. His face was also stained with a lot of blood, but he did not seem to want to wipe it off.
"Albert, do you know what you're doing? Why are you acting on your own? " Scrimgeour slowly turned around and stood up when he saw Allen. He could not suppress his anger, and his brown hair swayed. "Even if they are suspects! But since when did an Aura have the right to hurt prisoners? They should be judged by the Magical Law Enforcement Department, and not lose their lives like this! "
"Director Scrimgeour, when faced with armed resistance, an Aura has the right to use force … The one who gave us the order is the Law Enforcement Department. They don't need your permission." Albert looked directly at Scrimgeour. "And these dead wizards, most of them used the Unforgivable Curse on an Aura. Their magic wands can be used to prove this."
"Albert, even if they used the Unforgivable Curse, according to the law, they will be imprisoned for life!" Scrimgeour's thick eyebrows furrowed, and his sharp eyes met with Albert's.
"Director Scrimgeour, are you joking with the lives of our armed Aura?" A young Aura with short brown hair blushed and glared at Scrimgeour. "Director, do you mean that when faced with the use of the Unforgivable Curse, we should give up the legal right to open fire granted by the Ministry of Magic in this situation, so that their curse can threaten us?"
"Of course I don't mean that!" Scrimgeour stared at the Aura angrily. "But you obviously have the upper hand, there is no need to kill …"
"My companion was just hit by the Heart-Drilling Curse and is now being sent to the infirmary!" He was like a forced beast, waiting for an opportunity to bite back. "We armed Aura are trained to remove the threat of the curse as soon as possible!"
"That's enough, Otto! This is our director! Pay attention to your position! " Albert was the first to speak, and then pulled his team members behind him. "Director, perhaps your patrolling Aura can accurately arrest them in this situation without hurting them … I also hope that you can detect this when the next explosion occurs." Then he nodded slightly as a salute. "Director, forgive me for not keeping you company. We have to repair this house before the illusion disappears so that the Muggle won't notice."
After that, Albert led his Aura to help the other Aura repair the half-repaired Muggle house. Because the pure-blooded guards had cast a large amount of Black Curse on the house, in order to restore it to its original state, they must first remove the residual magic energy of the curse, so it took more time than usual to restore it to its original state.
Scrimgeour's chest was filled with anger when he felt the airflow caused by Albert and the others passing by him. He was like a bomb that was about to explode if the fuse was pulled.
"Ahhhhh!!!"
Suddenly, a blood-curdling scream rang out from upstairs. Scrimgeour's purple face twitched in anger. He paused for a moment, then hurriedly led the patrolling Auror upstairs. As soon as they reached the huge platform upstairs, they all sucked in a cold breath. As the scene of the explosion, the damage here was much more serious than it looked from below.
Although it did not seem to have collapsed, the corridor outside was messed up by the tilted boards and the messy bricks on the walls. The roof of this area had been blown away. The afternoon light of England shone through the gloomy sky and illuminated the conference room in the corridor with a big hole in the wall.
Penello's unique spider voice sounded in the room. "Last time, old man, get up from the wheelchair …"
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