Man of Archives

Summer ended rather abruptly, with flashes of lightning and cold rains. It wasn't the ending I had hoped for, but it was what it was. After sending Hermione off to Hogwarts, I began planning my own departure. She knew I would be out of the country, so I left her a comprehensive set of materials to study. The young student eagerly embraced all the knowledge.

I, on the other hand, planned a journey to Malta. Right now, I couldn't just pack up and leave on a whim—well, I could, but it would be rather rude to my other acquaintances. It wouldn't be very considerate, so once all the letters were sent, I gathered my things and set off.

The letter was sent the day after the guild meeting, and by the end of the month, I received a response with an invitation to continue my training.

First, I transported myself to the strait, where I immediately mounted my broom. Crossing the channel wasn't difficult, though a few birds tried to hinder me. A simple first-year spell sent them scattering in different directions. As I approached the water, I slowed down and saw dolphins leaping out, calling to each other in their language. I didn't understand them...

Landing in the now-familiar town, I didn't stay long and Apparated straight to Italy. The sudden change in weather wasn't exactly pleasant, but it didn't bother me much. A small spell made me feel as comfortable as if I had never left home. I hopped back on my broom and continued my flight towards Malta.

Upon my arrival, I was met by two wizards from the Maltese Guard, who escorted me to the island. A small welcoming committee awaited, led by the head of the Maltese Guard, who hadn't changed a bit since the last time I saw him. He was accompanied by two other wizards, dressed in similar attire.

"Greetings, Master Jody," said Alban, the head guard, being the first to speak. "I didn't expect we'd meet again so soon."

"I'm glad to see you too," I replied. "I figured while I have the time, I should finish my training."

"A wise decision," he nodded.

Alban gave a few instructions to his subordinates, and we made our way to his office. The path was somewhat familiar to me. His office, once we arrived, hadn't changed much since the last time, when I completed my first semester. The wizard took his seat and offered me one as well.

"I've heard you've mastered another branch of magical arts," he said. "That's surprisingly quick."

"I enjoy magic," I responded casually. "When I focus on something truly important, I put all my effort into mastering it."

"Not a bad approach," he said, nodding approvingly under his helmet. "So, let's move on to the important topics. You want to continue your training, correct?"

"Yes," I nodded.

"Then let me remind you that a semester lasts four months, and unfortunately, the price will be a bit higher this time."

"No problem," I said. "But I also wanted to mention that I've started mastering wandless magic."

"Wandless magic?" he raised an eyebrow. "That is very interesting. I'll need to see that for myself. In that case, there are two additional training options available to you. One focuses solely on combat without a wand, while the other is a mixed style combining wand-based and wandless magic."

"What's the difference?" I asked.

"The mixed style," Alban explained, "is the most popular approach, focusing on blending wand spells and wandless combat tactics. It's a favored path of both Dumbledore and Riddle. The second path, however, focuses entirely on wandless combat, using a completely different style of magic. The wand is only used for truly destructive spells."

"Sounds interesting," I remarked. "Is there a price difference?"

"No," Alban shook his head. "The cost for a semester is seven thousand galleons."

"Wow," I exclaimed, surprised. That's quite a lot of money.

"Don't be shocked by the price," he chuckled. "If you choose one of these paths, I will be your instructor. No one else in the Guard besides me knows the art of wandless magic. And, I should add, you're lucky—if you hadn't already completed a semester here, you wouldn't have had this opportunity."

"I see," I nodded.

Honestly, the choice wasn't all that difficult. I could learn the mixed style in England; I think Dumbledore wouldn't mind teaching me for a small fee. But the second path seemed far more intriguing since it offered greater safety and future prospects, should I ever find myself in a world without wands.

"I think I want to take the second path—pure wandless magic," I decided after a moment of thought. "Two semesters."

"That will be fourteen thousand."

With a heavy heart, I handed over the check for the enormous sum. Alban took it and promptly stashed it away.

The rest of the procedure was the same as last time. They gave me a uniform identical to the one I had last year. I was also assigned a cell, which didn't differ much from the previous one. But I didn't complain or demand something new.

The next morning began at four o'clock with a large bucket of cold water and two vials of potion. The potions were safe, serving as magical nutrient solutions mixed with coffee, allowing me to get through training without a problem.

Without warning or explanation, Alban attacked me with his wand. Expecting something like this, I dodged sharply, but that's exactly what he anticipated, and he began pressuring me with small but blazingly fast stinging spells. Now, the difference in our skill levels became even more obvious. The gap wasn't in magical power but in knowledge, experience, and skill.

At one point, I was completely caught off guard and took a hit from a spell that nearly knocked the wind out of me.

"You're dead," he said for the first time during this training session. "Remember, never fight at your opponent's pace. Your first goal, if you want to become an excellent wandless combatant, is to disrupt it. Your current style is well-suited for fights with wands. Instructor Aaron gave you a solid foundation, but what works for one style doesn't work for another."

"Understood."

"Again," he said, attacking once more. This time, the style was entirely different. Where before the attacks were fast and precise, now they were heavy and cumbersome. But that didn't make them any less dangerous—in fact, they might have been even more so now.

I dodged a powerful wave of lightning that scorched the ground beneath it, held a strong Protego against a direct hit from an unfamiliar spell, and caught another spell on the tip of my wand before everything went black.

I came to with cold water splashed on my face.

"Now do you understand why fighting a wizard skilled in wandless magic is so dangerous?" he said, allowing me to gather myself and recover a bit. My ears were ringing, but a few medical spells brought me back to relative normal. "That was the Mixed Style. Get up."

I got up. Alban stepped back and smirked at me. In the next instant, his wand vanished from his hand, and he lunged forward. Not having time to react, I attempted to defend myself with a sweeping strike. But to a wizard like him, it was as if he didn't even notice. A lightning-fast Apparition, and he was right next to me. Somehow, I managed to hide my wand and slip away. His hands were now covered in a strange grey fire that began to chase me.

I activated Protego without my wand, and it worked well enough against his spell. Next came a quick transfiguration, which held back the destructive wave he sent my way. The wall that appeared in its path shattered into thousands of pieces, but it gave me the chance to use two wandless spells.

But it was useless. With some spell, he rushed at me, and I took a hard hit to the stomach from his knee at high speed. Let's just say it wasn't a pleasant sensation. If not for magic, I'd have been sent straight to the next world right then and there.

Groaning in pain and with a few potions from Alban, I slowly began to recover.

"You've shown a decent level of wandless magic proficiency," said the head of the Maltese Guard once I regained my senses and started to understand what was going on around me. "Relatively decent. But there's still much work to be done."

***

Adam Stone sat at a small table with his companions, furiously smoking a cheap cigarette. Beside him was an old wizard who had taken him in after his abrupt departure from Hogwarts and shown him the "right" path. Since then, Adam never struggled to find a girl for the night—or even a month—and he no longer lacked food or a place to stay.

Of course, there was a price to pay for all this, but what is a comfortable life compared to the deaths of a few people, a little torture, and some other unsavory tasks? At first, he felt dirty carrying out these assignments, but eventually, he got into the groove and even started to enjoy them.

Their group consisted of seven wizards, all of whom had come from rough backgrounds and had no qualms about handling the not-so-clean jobs for wealthier wizards. But this time, they had a mission that could make them rich for the rest of their lives.

The old wizard who had taken Adam in and assembled the group had been contacted by a wealthy patron looking to resolve some political issues by eliminating opponents. Their task was simple: activate a demonic pentagram hidden beneath the asphalt of a road. Adam knew the devastation this would cause in the Muggle part of the city, but he felt no pity. After being expelled from Hogwarts, the non-magical world had also turned its back on him, leaving him to wander. So, no pity at all.

"There are other groups doing something similar in other cities," the old man said suddenly.

"Where did you get this information?" asked one of the wizards.

"This plan we're following was developed a little over fifteen years ago," the old man continued, dropping bits of valuable information. "Everything was set up for this political operation, but then the client decided to put it on hold until the timing was right. And it seems that time has come."

"Who's the client?" another wizard asked—a question that piqued the interest of everyone in the group.

"Some French aristocrat," the old man shrugged. "One of those who survived the revolution."

"What about the other cities?" someone else inquired.

"It's all part of a larger plan," the old man replied. "Once we finish our part, we'll lay low and hope the storm doesn't hit us too hard."

"Will there be a storm?" Adam asked, a question he knew wasn't particularly smart but needed to be voiced.

"Several large European cities with massive demonic breaches, causing widespread devastation and destruction," the old wizard answered. "It will be quite the storm. And I'll be delighted to watch it."

"What have we gotten ourselves into?" muttered another wizard, someone who had grown somewhat close to Adam since they both ended up in the same situation due to a political decision about Hogwarts tuition fees. While Adam had been in Gryffindor, Dennis had been in Hufflepuff.

"Come on," said the dimmest member of their group dismissively. "Everything will be fine."

That night was restless for Adam. Like many his age, he wondered how his life might have turned out if he had just studied a bit harder. Could he have achieved something great, like his former friend Timothy Jody, whom he hadn't spoken to since the exam results came out? Maybe his results could have been better too! And he could have been hailed as the youngest master in two—no, three disciplines? But no… he had wasted his time on all sorts of nonsense.

In the morning, not in the best of moods, he drank coffee, smoked a cigarette, and looked out the window. A small magical spell on the window allowed him to see hidden things in the street. Nothing dangerous...

When everyone woke up and got ready, the old wizard arrived with some Muggle clothes and signs.

"What's this?" Dennis asked.

"We'll need time to activate the spell," the old wizard explained. "To buy that time without raising suspicion, we'll pose as protesters against..." he glanced at the signs, "the use of duck feathers in jackets and animal fur in clothing in general."

"Ridiculous," one of the wizards muttered. "But fine."

They changed into relatively clean clothes, hid their wands, and took up the signs. Then they headed on foot to the designated location. Blocking off the road and drawing angry French curses, the old man sat in the middle, surrounded by the group, and began activating the magical circle for the demon summoning.

Angry Muggles approached them, shouting, but no one in the group responded. The roadblock quickly created a traffic jam.

Adam noticed that the old wizard had finished his preparations. They stood up and began making some strange gestures, which would look bizarre to a casual observer. But to wizards, it was clear that the old man was completing the final steps. In an instant, they all felt a magical shift. Any wizard would recognize that something significant had happened, and it was best to leave quickly to avoid getting caught in whatever chaos was about to unfold.

The group understood this too and chose to retreat. Evading the furious Muggles, they returned to their base, where they changed back into their normal clothes and began preparing Portkeys that the old wizard handed them.

"The Portkey password is 'Scarlet Dawn,'" he said. "It will take us to a new location, where I have more Portkeys hidden."

"Scarlet Dawn," the group repeated.

Flashes of light whisked the wizards away to another place, where they would find safety. As Adam took one last glance out the window, he saw a blood-red glow, with small, dark shapes flying out from it. A moment later, the Portkey took him away as well.

***

Olivia Maxime walked calmly with her friend down the magical street in Paris. Familiar wizards and witches nodded at her, and she nodded back. Life was wonderful—after all, she was the headmistress of a renowned magic school, and only half-human at that. It was one of the highest forms of recognition she could receive. Any wizard would be proud of their achievements if they became the head of one of the world's top ten magical schools.

"By the way," said Olivia's friend, a witch who also worked at the Ministry on an international project, "what do you think about restoring some of the ancient traditions of competitions between the world's magical schools?"

"I've been considering the proposal," replied the headmistress of Beauxbatons. "And overall, I must say, the idea appeals to me."

"Wonderful," her friend said, allowing a smile to appear on her face.

"Which other schools would be involved?" Olivia inquired.

"Hogwarts, definitely," her friend responded immediately. "Dumbledore is the main driving force behind this competition. If we agree, the only thing left is to find another school willing to participate."

"And which schools are potential candidates?" Olivia asked as they entered a small café next to the goblin bank, Sheratier.

"It's easier for me to say which ones definitely won't," the woman replied, pausing briefly to place her order.

Olivia also placed her order. Being a regular at this café, she could be confident that her cup would be the right size. Ten liters would be just perfect.

"So, Kolduværk is definitely out," her friend said. "This past year has been catastrophically dangerous for them. The House War turned out to be extremely bloody."

"Isn't it dying down?" Olivia asked.

"Yes," the Ministry witch nodded. "But by the time they negotiate and decide who gets what, they're out of the running."

"Things like that happen," Olivia murmured. "One small mistake, and everything can go straight to the depths of death."

She caught sight of a group of suspicious-looking wizards who were glancing around with an oddly anxious air. She frowned slightly and started watching them more intently. Her friend immediately realized something had caught Madame Maxime's attention and began looking around as well. It was hard to miss these strange individuals.

The next moment, several things happened at once. Inside Sheratier, a massive explosion erupted, sending a powerful shockwave that threw everyone off their feet. In an instant, half the building was gone, as were several others nearby. Smoke and dust obscured everything. The headmistress of Beauxbatons didn't have time to draw her wand before she was slammed against a wooden wall. As she slowly regained her senses, she felt something trickle down her cheek. Putting a dirty hand to her face, she saw red blood. The giant's blood that had lain dormant for so long began to awaken and boil.

Realizing this was the last thing she needed right now, the headmistress of Beauxbatons took a deep breath and exhaled, calming herself. Surveying the scene, she saw massive destruction, but it quickly became clear that this was only the beginning.

From a nearby crate, thousands of creatures leapt out, attacking wizards and trying to subdue them. With a swift wave of her wand, Olivia destroyed several creatures that had managed to get close to her.

"What's happening?" her friend asked, just starting to regain her senses. Being more of a political figure than a witch, she didn't quite know what to do.

"If only I knew," Maxime replied.

The lid of the crate burst open, and several pure-blooded, very angry giants emerged, wreaking havoc all around. A few magical blasts only seemed to enrage these distant relatives of Olivia even more… Not that she would ever admit to herself that these "devils" were her kin.

Inside the goblin bank, chaos was unfolding as a dozen wizards ruthlessly cut down the small bankers. The goblins, caught off guard by such a treacherous attack, were only just beginning to muster a defense.

In the midst of the flashes of light, gendarmes began to Apparate. Several groups immediately rushed into battle against the giants. But it was as if the giants had been waiting for this. Their veins glowed dark purple, and their eyes darkened.

"Graaah!" roared the largest giant as he charged at the wizards. Unprepared for such agility, the wizards failed to react in time. The giant's massive club shattered their protections and killed two wizards with a single swing.

"Headmistress," a gendarme called out to Olivia, seemingly unaware of what had just happened to his comrades—probably because he hadn't seen it. "Are you alright?"

"Yes," Olivia replied, gripping her wand tightly. "What's going on?!"

"We're in deep trouble," he responded.

In a normal situation, Olivia would have made him wash his mouth with the bitterest soap for such language. But right now… this was anything but a normal situation.

"What's happening?" the Ministry official asked, panic creeping into her voice.

"Someone's summoning demons in central Paris," the gendarme explained. "Most of the Ministry's forces have been sent to close the breach."

"Pff," was all the woman could say. Only now did the severity of the situation begin to sink in.

Another massive explosion rocked the Sheratier building, and everyone felt the ground begin to shake and slowly sink. It seemed one of the bank's underground tunnels had just collapsed. Madame Maxime was searching for an escape route, while her friend mentally calculated the possible outcomes. Demons in the center of Paris weren't exactly a pleasant scenario.

Suddenly, a green flash struck the gendarme in the back, and he fell lifeless to the ground. Both witches instantly recognized the spell. Olivia rolled to avoid a purple orb that slammed into the wall behind her, leaving a large hole.

"Who are you?" she asked, rising to her feet and deftly deflecting a spell.

"We are the Heralds of Chaos!" came a man's voice.

"You're just a bunch of freaks!" Olivia's friend cried out.

"And that's just perfect," the wizard grinned. "No one ever saw us as equals all these years… But now, we'll have our revenge. Muggles and wizards alike will learn firsthand what it's like to return to the Dark Ages! Mwa-ha-ha!"

The headmistress of Beauxbatons didn't waste time with words and launched a spell at her opponent. But he was no amateur. He tossed up an artifact that created a dozen copies of him, all flickering and multiplying, mirroring his every move perfectly.

"Catch this grenade!" shouted the wizard, tossing a green object at the witches that looked very much like a lemon.

A few seconds later, there was an explosion. Olivia was thrown into a wall… she rolled across the ground and tried to get up, only to realize she was riddled with dozens of metal shards. Sensing the imminent danger to her life, she let her giant's blood boil, hoping it would help her survive these wounds.

"I'll kill you!" she growled, allowing her rage to surface. A powerful, destructive spell shot from her wand but struck the wall instead. "Aah!"

Another spell shot through the air, nearly hitting one of the attackers.

"That was close!" he yelled angrily and threw another identical object at her. Olivia caught it with her wand and sent it flying back at him. He hadn't expected that, and the object exploded right in front of his chest, sending him instantly to the afterlife.

Olivia couldn't get up, feeling the blood slowly leaving her body. She still had strength, but without professional help, she wouldn't survive. Turning over, she tried to heal herself despite the severity of her injuries, but it wasn't going as well as she'd hoped. Who could have predicted such carnage would unfold in the heart of magical France? The half-giantess forced herself not to think about the consequences this would have.

Hearing footsteps approaching, she turned to see one of the gendarmes. He didn't look too well.

"Headmistress Maxime?" he squinted. "I'm so glad…"

"What's happening?" the witch asked. But what happened next was something she didn't expect at all. A powerful spell hit her, slamming her through the wall. "Kha!"

The pain from her broken bones was excruciating. She stared in confusion at the gendarme.

"Never thought I'd get this opportunity," the wizard sneered. "Filthy creatures like you have no place among wizards. You belong in a circus. Avada Kedavra!"

In the next moment, a green flash shot from his wand and pierced the flesh of the headmistress of Beauxbatons. In another heartbeat, the powerful witch, once both politically and magically influential, was now just a cooling corpse.

"Bravo," a voice came from behind him.

The gendarme whirled around to see a figure dressed in tattered rags. The newcomer began clapping slowly.

"Excellent work," the figure said.

"Who are you?" the gendarme demanded, raising his wand.

"You won't need that," replied the ragged wizard, and with a simple flick of his wand, he disarmed the gendarme. The attacker's movements were quick and almost imperceptible. "You only have one job now. This will serve our cause wonderfully."

"What…"

"Shhh," the ragged wizard whispered, swiftly knocking the gendarme unconscious. "Who would've thought there'd still be hot blood left in France… such a shame it has to be spilled."

***

Lucius sat at a large glassoak desk, reviewing several documents containing reports from his most trusted associates. The endeavor he and his companions had undertaken in their youth was complex and dangerous, but the results were already promising.

Of course, the plan hadn't been devised by him, but by his father, and there were many elements he didn't fully understand. For example, why summon demons in the centers of Paris, Berlin, Munich, Lyon, Marseille, Vienna, Prague, Milan, Budapest, Krakow, Amsterdam, Brussels, Düsseldorf, and Geneva? He didn't get it, but he chose not to deviate from the plan, believing that without these components, his own additions could prove baseless and critically flawed. So, he wasn't about to abandon them, but he had taken several steps to distance himself as far as possible from the mess that would inevitably begin to stir.

Through these layers of intermediaries, he received updates on the developments.

One of the documents suddenly flickered, and text appeared on it. Lucius quickly scanned the message, then reread it, allowing a satisfied smile to spread across his face. The first positive results were already in. For the first time, a million galleons had been successfully transferred from France and stored in one of the vaults in England. These vaults, which he had personally established, were scattered across the island and completely independent of the goblins.

There was a knock on the door.

"Enter," Lucius said. A brief glance at the door, combined with a quick activation of a spell, was enough to confirm who was on the other side. Entering without permission wasn't so easy, as the door was heavily enchanted to prevent both magical and physical intrusion.

Through the door came Tobias Greengrass. He was perhaps the only one who knew Lucius's location. This was because he had invested just as much money and influence into the entire operation as Malfoy had.

"Tobias," Lucius greeted his associate.

"Lucius," Tobias nodded in response and casually dropped into an armchair by the coffee table. Lucius joined him, not forgetting to bring along some documents and maps. "How are our affairs going?"

"You know, Tobias," Lucius began, "we've already recouped our investment."

"Really?" Greengrass asked, genuinely surprised. "How?"

"One million galleons are already secure in our vault," Lucius explained. "Another shipment is currently en route with the transport group. Within an hour, they'll reach the designated vault and stash the money. But that's not even what I wanted to discuss…"

"What then?"

"We have a magnificent opportunity, once 'Black Friday' concludes, to enter the European markets and seize production assets."

Greengrass pondered this for a moment. Having become the nominal head of his family by arrangement, he took little pleasure in everyday life. Being wealthy was wonderful, but eventually, it lost its thrill, and he had to seek out new amusements. For his wife, the true head of House Greengrass, that amusement had become their daughters.

"How would we divide it?" Tobias immediately caught on to Lucius's proposal.

"Well," Malfoy began, pulling out a map. This map was extremely valuable, as it showed the approximate locations of all major businesses across Europe. "Take a look…"

Greengrass examined the map closely, studying various enticing projects that would fit nicely into the family portfolio. Of course, he understood that it wouldn't be as simple as they'd like, as there would be other hunters eager to get a piece of the pie. The current owners wouldn't be keen to hand over their assets without a fight. This meant preparing for potential problems and conflicts.

"The Malfoy family would be very pleased if we could secure Corsica and a bit of the Côte d'Azur, along with the potion breweries in Champagne," Malfoy calmly laid out his own request. "Besides that, we wouldn't mind acquiring the dragon reserve in Briançon and Neuschwanstein with the surrounding lands."

"Otto the Sixth controls that area," Greengrass remarked, surprised. If Malfoy were to gain Neuschwanstein, it would mean the downfall of the dynasty of the King of Germany and Emperor of the Holy Roman Empire.

"I'm aware," Lucius allowed himself a smirk. Just then, a document glowed, and new information appeared on it. "Oh… an update. The second group has also successfully reached the vault and deposited the galleons."

"How much?" Tobias inquired.

"Not much, two hundred and fifty thousand," Lucius stated calmly. It was indeed a small amount compared to what they aimed to collect. But still… progress was being made. "What do the observers report?"

Lucius Malfoy pulled out several more documents that were constantly being updated with additional information from various observers hired through a series of intermediaries. They needed to closely monitor how the situation in Europe was evolving.

"What's going on?" Greengrass asked.

"It seems the goblins have begun gathering their clans," Malfoy said. "This news has just now reached the public."

"That means they started this yesterday or even the day before, after the first attack in France," Tobias speculated. "We need to see how the Gringotts goblins will react."

"Yes," Lucius sighed.

The gears in his head were already turning as he tried to figure out how to use everything happening to strengthen his family and gain more power. He knew the situation would become quite complicated after the plan was set in motion, but so far, nothing had spun out of control.

"By the way, I heard that the headmistress of Beauxbatons was killed on the first day of the operation," Tobias mentioned after a moment. "How did that happen?"

"A coincidence," Lucius replied. Olivia Maxime hadn't been a target. In fact, he had hoped she would live longer, as her favorable stance towards his family was an asset. Having an ally of that caliber in another country was never a bad thing. It was a pity that such a valuable resource had been wasted so senselessly. "I'm quite certain the killer wasn't one of our people. Someone among the French must have taken the opportunity to settle an old score."

"Who's next, then? Any candidates?" Tobias asked.

"I don't see anyone obvious at the moment," Lucius replied. "Do you have anyone in mind?"

"Well…" Tobias trailed off, thinking. He tried to recall if he knew anyone who could take the position. Traditionally, the French didn't like it when the British meddled in their affairs. To them, the English always seemed a bit 'crafty.' Tobias was aware of this sentiment and strongly disagreed with it. That didn't stop French wizards from visiting England to acquire knowledge and goods unavailable to them at home, though. "To be honest, I can't think of any master of the necessary strength over there."

"It seems France is now without an experienced and powerful master…" Malfoy sighed. "A shame… a great shame."

"What's the Ministry saying?" Greengrass finally asked.

"Fudge is just waiting for one of the ministries to approach him," Lucius replied. "He expects the Germans to reach out first."

"And how are things going over there?" Tobias asked.

"All the prisoners have escaped from Berlin's main prison," Malfoy said. "Some of them have even joined the operation, spreading chaos in all directions, especially trying to wreak havoc in the Muggle world. It seems they've started a competition among themselves to see who can kill the most Muggles. So far, no one has been able to rein them in."

"If I'm not mistaken, those are Grindelwald's fanatics who somehow escaped death," Tobias said.

"Yes," Malfoy nodded. "SS squads and a few scientists from Hydra."

"If they go underground, there will be no peace in the region," Tobias remarked with a hint of concern. "They could pose a serious problem."

"We'll address it when the problem arises. I still hope their ministry can handle the fallout, and I think MACUSA representatives will assist them."

"And what about the Americans? Are they doing anything, or just waiting?" Tobias pressed.

"They're just waiting. Since no one is attacking their resources or camps, they aren't planning to act."

"Well, that's good, then."

The document with the reports glowed again.

"Oh… what's this?" Malfoy began reading, and his face slowly darkened. "It seems things have gone slightly off plan…"

"What is it?" Tobias tensed.

"The Church has announced the reformation of the Inquisition… A small squad of inquisitors from Rome attempted to demonstrate their strength, but they were wiped out by a demon that emerged from a portal. The demonic creatures that had previously been easily dispatched by wizards due to their disorganization have quickly established structure and started building something."

"I really don't like this news," Tobias muttered, drumming his fingers as he tried to understand what had gone wrong. "Maybe it wasn't wise to include that part of the plan with the demons?"

"It's too late now," Malfoy said, feeling the weight of the looming troubles on his shoulders. Even the news of another vault being filled didn't bring him any comfort.