The Inferi, especially after catching the scent of living creatures, surged toward the cave entrance like madmen.
Their movements were slow, but their sheer numbers made them a formidable force, sweeping forward with overwhelming momentum, almost unstoppable.
Fortunately, even the widest stone staircase could not accommodate hundreds of Inferi at once. They possessed no intelligence, only instinct.
The scent of a stranger awakened their only appetite.
Driven by instinct, they frantically charged toward Malfoy.
"Becoming a so-called Inferius isn't a bad way to achieve 'immortality.'"
Malfoy looked at the Inferi, some of which might have existed for hundreds of years, and shook his head.
The first name that came to his mind was Voldemort.
However, the method that man had used to pursue "immortality" and preserve his life was certainly not so crude.
At the top of the platform stood an altar. A grotesque serpentine stone pillar wound upward from it, covered in a large amount of black filth of unknown origin. A dark gemstone rested upon the pillar, emitting a faint black glow.
It seemed that among the Inferi, a leader with some rudimentary magical instincts had evolved and transformed the magical array that had once suppressed them into their own "barracks."
A continuous stream of Inferi poured out from it.
Decaying chunks of flesh were torn from the Inferi's bodies as the wind blades summoned by Malfoy's wand continuously cut through them, mixing with scraps of tattered clothing as batches of Inferi collapsed.
Yet they seemed endless.
The corpses somehow seeped into the ground, like nutrient-rich fertilizer poured onto soil, instantly absorbed and somehow replenishing the altar on the platform in the distance.
Malfoy fell into deep thought, but he continued wielding his wand, single-handedly suppressing the vast army of undead.
The battle had already been going on for quite some time, and it showed no signs of ending.
He decided to act quickly.
A jet-black flame appeared in mid-air, flickering with an eerie light.
The terrifying black flames clung tightly to the hideous Inferi like maggots.
They continued spreading upward, rapidly incinerating large numbers of Inferi and filling the cave with a foul stench.
But even more corpses continued pouring out.
Even Fiendfyre, which was said to burn everything in its path and never be extinguished, could not completely destroy an endless army of Inferi.
Black bats occasionally flew out from above, baring their fangs as they attacked the living boy with perfect coordination.
Malfoy's gaze sharpened.
He decided not to delay any longer.
He gently waved his wand.
A long arrow gradually took shape in mid-air. Its entire body was fiery red, radiating scorching heat.
In an instant, the temperature inside the cave seemed to rise several degrees.
Although it had been conjured entirely from flames, its details were in no way inferior to those of a real bow and arrow. The slender shaft was covered with sharp runes, while the arrowhead was carved with a long blood groove.
Although such a feature was not particularly useful—the Inferi could not feel pain and probably had no blood—it still gave the weapon an intimidating appearance.
Without the aid of a bowstring to build up its power, the arrow nevertheless unleashed an astonishing impact.
With a whoosh, the bewitching arrow, engulfed in black flames, pierced through the air, creating faint ripples and shockwaves.
In an instant, it pierced through the entire horde of corpses, leaving a huge hole in their ranks.
The flames spread wildly in every direction, as though they had suddenly found an abundant source of fuel.
In an instant, the Inferi vanished like a receding tide.
Even the corpses that had temporarily escaped the flames lost their power.
Perhaps the central hub providing their regenerative abilities had been destroyed.
Malfoy dragged his feet, step by step, up the uneven stone stairs toward the wide platform and the deep altar.
He slowly bent down.
Inside, he saw a crystal-clear black gemstone lying quietly, possessing an indescribably eerie quality.
Just as he was about to claim his spoils, a sudden burning sensation surged through his chest.
It was a warning from the two-way mirror in his arms.
"It seems this enjoyable adventure is coming to an end."
Malfoy thought to himself.
Dumbledore had not contacted him through the two-way mirror for a long time.
As they had agreed, neither of them would contact the other without good reason.
Once contact was made, it meant that something significant had happened.
"It's a problem right from the start."
Sure enough, after examining the information transmitted through the two-way mirror, Malfoy quickly shook his head helplessly.
"I have to go to Hogwarts again? That's not a good idea."
He muttered to himself.
Meanwhile, Malfoy was deciding on his future itinerary.
Professor McGonagall and her group soon returned to Hogwarts.
They also brought unfortunate news—
Dumbledore had passed away.
At noon, students and faculty gathered in the Great Hall for a meeting to announce the news.
Even though Dumbledore was no longer the Headmaster of Hogwarts, the faculty and staff still regarded him as such.
It seemed self-evident and beyond question.
Everyone was instantly plunged into extreme shock and grief.
The news was like a bomb dropped into a calm lake, creating a terrifying splash.
Denial.
Doubt.
Acceptance.
Hogwarts reacted to the devastating news faster than expected.
Perhaps it was because of Professor McGonagall's prestige and the large number of witnesses who had personally seen what happened.
They understood that this was an undeniable fact.
The meeting in the Great Hall ended quickly.
Hogwarts immediately suspended classes.
The Board of Governors convened at once. Members from all over the world traveled long distances to return to Hogwarts through the Floo Network or by Apparition to discuss the situation.
In short, a series of domino-like reactions spread outward from Hogwarts.
And they would have a profound impact on wizarding society.
Tomorrow's issue of The Daily Prophet might achieve its highest sales in nearly a decade.
However, these far-reaching consequences had no immediate impact on ordinary people.
All they knew was that they had been plunged into deep sorrow.
The faculty and staff at Hogwarts all wore somber expressions, and even the usually carefree students seemed depressed.
Some of the more sensitive students began living in constant anxiety.
Was Hogwarts truly safe without Dumbledore?
The students living in their pristine ivory tower had witnessed the cruelty of war for the first time.
The first person to leave them was their former Headmaster—the greatest White Wizard of their time—Albus Dumbledore.
All classes had been suspended, and the upcoming O.W.L. examinations had also been postponed.
In the past, almost every student would have cheered upon hearing such news. The noose around their necks would have loosened, giving them a precious moment of leisure.
But they could not feel happy at all.
Because the price was simply too heavy.
Far too heavy.
The symbolic war horn had sounded, and the first "gift" fate had bestowed upon them was already so cruel and heavy.
A somber atmosphere permeated the entire school, and many people did not sleep that night.
If Dumbledore had died of old age, people might have been saddened, but they would have tried to accept it.
But a violent death was far too cruel.
And it had been a sneak attack by Voldemort.
The Dark Lord, who had remained hidden for more than a decade, had revealed his ferocious fangs this time, sinking them deeply into the wizarding world.