Next to the waterfall known as the Bridal Veil in Yellowstone Park in the Rocky Mountains, the president of the United States Congress of Magic, Piquelli, looked in the direction of Elfarmoni from afar and listened to Aura's report on the situation of the professors who stayed in Elfarmoni.
"After the violent conflict with the Aura of the United Kingdom broke out, the Aura students who wanted to resist were arrested one after another … At the same time, the students who rose up to resist were also suppressed …" Aura, who was in charge of the report, said in a heavy tone, "The final result was that from now on, Pukeji was forgiven by Owen and can continue to live in Elfarmoni due to the tradition of the academy. However, they are not allowed to hold weapons anymore and are no longer the guards of Elfarmoni. However, the students who participated in the rebellion were not only confined until the end of the term, but their use of magic wands was further restricted compared to before. Now, they are only allowed to use the magic wands that were given to them before class, and once class is over, they will be taken back …"
After a short silence, there was an explosion of hatred and curses. Most of the wizards in the Rocky Mountains graduated from Elfarmoni and had deep feelings for this magic academy.
Originally, many people were very dissatisfied with the Congress's behavior of handing over the academy to the enemy without setting up any defenses. Now that they heard that Elfarmoni was being controlled by others, the tradition was being changed, and the students had to bear such humiliation, they were even angrier. Some of the more emotional wizards' eyes turned red.
"This is a conspiracy of the floating city. The other academies under their control do not have such restrictions!"
"This will make our students fall further behind in spellcasting!"
"Organize the armed forces and take back Elfarmoni!"
Amidst the agitation of the crowd, some boorish men shouted with a hoarse voice. There were a few scattered echoes of agreement, but more people stopped their scolding and chose to remain silent. While anger was one thing, there were more who were pulled back to reality by the words' take back the Iffamanni ', and faced the gap between their own side and the Commonwealth's side.
Most of the American sorcerers in the Rocky Mountains understood that sacrificing their strength to take back a magic school that was impossible to defend was meaningless. Therefore, they were forced to be rational and chose to swallow their pride and continue with their original plan.
In the end, Chairman Piquelli waited for the crowd to vent their frustrations for a while before he arranged for them to go about their own business. Then, with a headache, he walked back to his temporary office that he had just dug out with Stone to Mud and reinforced with Mud to Rock.
He slumped down on the stone chair and rubbed his forehead with both hands. In this space that belonged only to himself, he could no longer hide his exhaustion and dishness.
"Sir, good afternoon." As if something was stuck in his throat, the hoarse, oppressive, and slow voice of an old man suddenly sounded. It was as if something was stuck in his throat.
Piquelli sat up straight and quickly pulled out the wand he carried with him. But then, a sudden surge of pressure hit him like a raging tide. The wand fell to the ground and rolled away. Piquelli was also pressed back into the chair by the force. All the blood in his body was squeezed, and his head was dizzy. He could not control his body, and his arms and fingertips were trembling under the immense pressure.
"Ah … sorry … sometimes I forget how to get along with mortals." The old man's voice was a little indifferent. He stretched out his hand from under the brand new black cloak and pointed at Piquelli.
The pressure came and went quickly, but it was enough to make Piquelli, the President of the United States Congress, sweat on his back and forehead. He gripped the armrest of the chair tightly and regained some control of his body. He sat up stiffly.
At this time, Piquelli realized that there were a few more people in his room, and he did not notice them at all when he came in. He did not hear the slightest bit of apology in the man's voice.
The old wizard who had just spoken was holding a walking stick in the shape of a viper. He was wearing a brand new black magic cloak, which had a faint flow of magical energy. It looked low-key and luxurious, but the cloak did not match the ancient Greek-style clothes he was wearing.
The old wizard's facial features were like that of a fighting ram. His abnormally pale, bone-white skin had a pair of unforgettable big yellow eyes, and his nose was very straight. But his lips were tightly shut, and the wrinkles on both sides of his nose made him look very stern and unapproachable.
But before Piquelli could ask or take a closer look, he felt that the pressure from the old wizard had completely disappeared. It was like a heavy weight was gradually being lifted. But another feeling that he had neglected because of the powerful pressure became clearer. Piquelli felt as if all the happiness in his body had been sucked away, and his heart was filled with sadness and despair. But he was sure that this feeling was not because of his own fear. It was more like the feeling he had when he faced the Dementors. No matter how hard he tried to recall the happy memories, he still could not help but feel despair.
It was only then that Piquelli noticed that the feeling came from the few followers behind the old wizard. They had not attracted his attention before this. He took a closer look at them, and when he saw the faces of the followers, he suddenly leaned back and tried to stand up in a panic to grab the wand that he had dropped earlier.
Piquelli, as the chairman of the Magic Association, immediately recognized the two people behind the old wizard. They were the famous and wanted Death Eaters, Bellatrix Lestrange and Rudolphus Lestrange.
However, the faces of the dark Magus couple were as pale as those of a drowned corpse. Their eyes were glowing red, and the chilling aura they exuded made it seem as if they no longer had the aura of a living person.
At this moment, Piquelli's pupils shrank as he took a few glances at the wizard in front of him who was beginning to have a sense of presence. His body suddenly turned cold. This humanoid creature could no longer be called a wizard.
This undead creature was as thin as a mummy. Its shriveled body was draped in a sorcerer's robe that used to be luxurious but was now in tatters. Only the fake eye that was stuck in the eye socket like broken glass and the fake arm that was as rotten as a mummy's remained the same. The other parts of the body were shriveled up, and the withered muscles were tightly attached to the exposed bones.
The thing that allowed Piquelli to recognize the identity of this undead creature was the thin nose that was not obvious on the rotten cheeks. It looked as if the undead creature had no nose.
This lifeless creature seemed to have noticed the gaze of the chairman of the Magic Council of the United States. The crimson pupil in the empty eye socket shone with an evil light. The undead creature showed an expression that could be considered as a smile because it only made him look more ferocious.
"My Lord will solve your predicament and give me a chance to take revenge …"
The undead creature hissed like a snake. Its teeth were inlaid with all kinds of soul gemstones. Piquelli could vaguely see the soul projections of some imprisoned innocents trying to escape from these gemstones.
You've already exceeded your reading limit for today. If you want to read more, please log in.
Login
Select text and click 'Report' to let us know about any bad translation.
