Before the Japanese side of the wizarding delegation could react, the Ilvermorny professor—the one who had been hospitalized last time after being beaten down by Allen and Annie working together—was the first to leap out.
"Shut up, you shameless, despicable, cunning murderer!"
As if pushed beyond his limit by rage, his wand discharged a ghastly pale flame on its own. The spell carried with it the acrid stench of burning white phosphorus, and at a speed no one present could react to, it shot straight toward Allen.
Clearly, the humiliation of being defeated years ago by a second-year and a first-year student had dealt this man a devastating blow.
So much so that he didn't even bother questioning anything—he went straight for the kill.
Some of the others had been about to speak up, but the Ilvermorny professor's colleague released his own spell the instant his partner attacked.
With someone taking the lead, most of the rest chose to follow suit and join the assault.
Only two wizards felt this was utterly inappropriate. They retreated instead, wands ready, planning to pull the suspect out during the gaps between spells—though they couldn't guarantee whether he'd merely be gravely injured or would need magic just to stay alive.
As for stopping the attackers outright?
Sorry—there was an arrest order approved by the Ministry of Magic, confirmed by the headmaster himself.
They might not recognize that delicate-looking witch, but that didn't stop righteous fury from surging through them as they tried to kill the detestable criminal.
Their retreat wasn't mercy—it was respect for the law. You couldn't kill a suspect before conviction, after all.
Of course, crippling him halfway to death was hardly excessive, considering his "crimes."
Six professors' attacks—some faster, some slower—left dazzling yet deadly trails of light in the air.
Those powerful spells converged into a single point—
And then, just like that, they vanished.
That's right.
No explosion.
No annihilation.
No smoke.
Nothing changed at all.
Their only effect was that they looked rather pretty—arguably even more environmentally friendly than fireworks. Fireworks at least leave smoke behind; these spells left absolutely nothing.
Every single one of them was stopped cold by a thin, transparent barrier.
Allen brushed at his clothes—despite there being no dust—and lightly tapped the cicada-thin wind wall with his finger.
As it dissipated, a mocking smile curled his lips.
"So what, not even an explanation? My goodness—then why go to all the trouble of fabricating so many charges? You could've just said I might be guilty. Who knows, maybe you could've sent me to Azkaban for life."¹
"Shut up, you murderer! Flames—! Aahhh!!!"
The professor who'd been publicly humiliated earlier was the first to snap out of his shock. He raised his wand to unleash another spell, but before he could finish—
With a snap of Allen's left fingers, a vine shot up from the ground, tightly wrapping around the man's ankles. It surged upward at terrifying speed, hoisting him upside down, then bound him completely with thin tendrils, trussing him up like a parcel.
The sudden turn of events sent the others stumbling back several steps in panic.
Only after realizing nothing was attacking them did they prepare to rescue their captured colleague—
Completely forgetting that their every move was being watched by all the professors behind them.
What they'd just done looked exactly like a group of professors being forced back by a single spell from a student.
It was unbelievable.
Mahoutokoro's side reacted relatively calmly.
Ilvermorny's professors, on the other hand, had several people nearly stepping forward to intervene—only to be stopped by their headmaster.
His voice was low and urgent.
"Are you insane? Do you want to create another scandal where our school sends multiple professors to gang up on an ungraduated Hogwarts student?"
As for Hogwarts—only three had come at all.
Allen's Head of House, Deputy Headmistress McGonagall, and Headmaster Dumbledore.
At the moment, the Head of House looked deeply worried.
Professor McGonagall wore an expression of shock and confusion.
Dumbledore, however, appeared extraordinarily gentle—though no one could guess what he was thinking.
"Ahem. I'd suggest giving up—"
After controlling the vines to force back more than a dozen professors trying to rescue the captive, Allen cleared his throat and spoke.
"It's useless. These bindings are very sturdy. And I think it's necessary that we actually talk."
"There's no need to talk with a murderer like you! Everyone, don't hold back—use your strongest magic and kill him outright!"
Snap.
With another crisp finger snap, yet another vine erupted from the ground, hoisting up the Ilvermorny professor who'd just been preaching about fighting evil without rules.
What a joke. This place was lush with plants—and even the grass beneath their feet had been grown by Allen earlier.
Did they really think being cautious would help?
This vine lifted him even higher—but there was a small mishap.
Because the vine didn't wrap fast enough during the inversion, the professor's robe—despite being a magical garment—very scientifically succumbed to gravity and flipped over his face.
Yes.
A red lace pair of underwear was exposed.
Considering the professor was a burly man over 180 centimeters tall, the sight was… extremely hard on the eyes.
Allen froze for a moment—then quickly turned his head to save his vision.
"Ahem… slightly awkward, but let's continue our discussion.
As I said—why, exactly, do you claim I'm guilty?"
"This is a Ministry notice! And you attacked professors!!!"
"Where is the notice?"
…
"It hasn't arrived yet, but the owl will deliver it any moment!!!"
Allen rubbed his forehead and sighed.
"So, in other words, no one has actually seen this so-called notice yet?"
"But the headmaster confirmed it!"
"The headmaster saw the notice?"
"Yes! He informed us! Give up resisting—Japanese wizarding law doesn't have the death penalty!"
"The document hasn't arrived, yet the headmaster already saw it?
Does your headmaster moonlight as the Minister of Magic?"
"No. The headmaster personally met the victim, contacted the Minister, and then informed us. Stop this pointless resistance—it's useless!"
Then why are you all staring at the ground like your lives depend on it?
Allen rolled his eyes and threw out another question.
"Fine. You didn't see anything—so tell me this.
Earlier, did the campus defenses detect an intruder?"
"Yes, but we couldn't find them. Then the victim went straight to the headmaster to file a complaint—and your crimes were exposed!"
"Alright then.
She invaded the campus, I drove her off—that part aside.
Why do you think it's perfectly normal that an intruder suddenly turns into a victim, and your headmaster immediately recognizes her identity and reports me to the Ministry, without finding anything strange about it at all?"
Allen paused, then calmly voiced his conclusion.
"For example—what if your headmaster was under the Imperius Curse?"³