Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!
A dense barrage of spells shot into the huge cloud of steam Link had created from every direction.
The thick steam couldn't block the Aurors, Hunters, and Hit Wizards' view at all. Because of that, the angles of their spells were extremely tricky. Nearly every spell curved perfectly around the wildly flailing grafted limbs, struck the Stitching Butcher directly, and blasted away large chunks of rotten flesh and foul fluid from its decaying body.
"ROOOAR!"
The screams from within the thick fog became even more miserable.
It no longer sounded like a single scream, but countless cries from men and women layered together.
Through the gaps in the mist torn open by the flying spells, people could vaguely see the countless human faces on the Stitching Butcher's body twisting in pain. That round of attacks had injured the Stitching Butcher while also reducing large numbers of those faces to ashes.
Even the most cold-hearted Hunters couldn't help feeling a little sympathy at the sight.
They could only keep swinging their wands through sheer willpower.
The instinct to survive was human nature.
Even after being turned into a monster like the Stitching Butcher, the trapped souls still wanted to live.
And among all humanity, the souls inside the Stitching Butcher were undoubtedly those with the strongest will to survive.
Every single one of them.
That was because the relationship between those souls and the Stitching Butcher was one of complete slavery and exploitation.
The Stitching Butcher stayed alive by endlessly exploiting those souls and bodies, stealing their energy without restraint.
That theft brought immense pain to those souls.
Anyone who could endure such torture without fading away naturally possessed an incredibly strong desire to survive.
What Link and the others were doing now was destroying the last chance those souls had to keep living.
In Link's eyes, they were giving them release.
Unfortunately, driven by instinct, the souls clearly didn't see it that way.
So, as the British Ministry of Magic's combined forces poured on heavier and heavier fire, the magic originally scattered throughout each human face began gathering toward the Stitching Butcher's core.
The magic wasn't pure.
But there was so much of it that it was hard to imagine.
Blinding blue magical light burst out together with the Stitching Butcher's roar, instantly blowing away the superheated steam surrounding it.
Then the Stitching Butcher opened its mouth once more, stretching it to a nearly dislocated degree.
This time, however, it clearly wasn't roaring.
Its throat had already been completely dyed into a dazzling blue by magical light.
"Prepare to defend!"
Krell screamed at the top of his lungs.
The Hunters reacted first. Working in squads, they scattered into the corners of the hall, using the pits left by the acid as cover.
The Aurors and Hit Wizards followed traditional battle formation tactics. They quickly formed several large square formations and cast combined Shield Charms.
At the same time, the Stitching Butcher finished charging.
Everyone saw a flash before their eyes.
Countless blue magic beams shot from the Stitching Butcher's mouth like a dense laser grid, sweeping back and forth across the entire hall.
To be honest, this was a very crude way of using magic.
Its principle was nothing more than compressing magic power and firing it out.
Even the youngest first-year student at Hogwarts could cast this kind of spell after becoming familiar with their own magic.
Its simplicity came with equally obvious flaws.
It consumed enormous amounts of magic, and its power wasn't particularly impressive.
But with the Stitching Butcher's immense magical reserves supporting it, those weaknesses became its greatest strength.
From Link's observation, the power of this area attack probably wasn't any weaker than the Holy Light attack Dumbledore had demonstrated at Hogwarts not long ago.
Without any hesitation, Link charged forward instead of retreating, placing himself directly in front of everyone.
Countless strands of curse-attributed magic poured out of his body, dancing happily through the air before transforming into giant serpents that lunged toward the incoming beams.
That series of movements almost created a hurricane inside the not-so-spacious logistics hall.
But that was far from over.
The moment the cursed serpents collided with the beams, the massive shockwave created by the clash of the two streams of magic exploded outward.
Quite a few thin beams broke through the shockwave and continued toward their intended targets.
Fortunately, after being weakened by Link's interception, their power had dropped greatly.
Without any surprises, the Hunters and Aurors blocked every one of them.
At the same moment, wrapped in curse magic, Link rushed straight in front of the Stitching Butcher.
After firing such a huge wave of magic beams, the Stitching Butcher's mouth, or rather, its feeding organ, had been completely burned and roasted away.
All that remained was a black, charred hole giving off thin wisps of smoke as it continued roaring at Link.
The swollen human faces on the front of the Stitching Butcher seemed to realize something.
Drawing on the abundant magic inside the monster, they finally gained the ability to speak.
Some cursed Link.
Some cried and begged him to spare them.
Most simply wailed.
Link's deep eyes trembled slightly.
A trace of pity flashed through them before disappearing under the effects of Occlumency.
"Rest in peace. This is the best ending for you."
His cold voice rang out.
The green wind bullet he had been charging in his left hand shot forward.
At the same time, the wand in his right hand finally came down.
BOOM!
A huge mass of compressed air exploded against the Stitching Butcher's chest.
The burning whirlwind, heated by Link using the same principle as the Mist Armor steam explosion, instantly shredded the mountain-like body of the Stitching Butcher into pieces.
Honestly, this wasn't the best way to deal with the Stitching Butcher.
Judging from the other Inferi placed here, this monster should also have had the ability to self-destruct.
And because it contained an enormous amount of magic and soul energy, the explosion would likely be far beyond imagination.
What Link had just done was the same as stabbing an overinflated balloon with a needle.
Fortunately, he had already seen that coming and prepared a backup plan.
Just as the immense magic lost its restraint and began expanding wildly together with acid and poisonous gas, the Vanishing Spell Link had fired earlier arrived in time.
The massive beam, nearly five meters across, instantly covered the Stitching Butcher's core and broke it down into its most basic magical energy.
Meanwhile, the acid and poisonous gas that had separated from the Stitching Butcher became food for the Fiendfyre.
Accompanied by the cheerful roars of the remaining Fiendfyre beast, everything was completely devoured.
Such a clean and decisive finish stunned the British Ministry of Magic forces behind him, who had only just recovered from the shock.
The entire hall fell silent for only a brief moment.
Then it was drowned in cheers.
Held aloft by magic, Link slowly descended to the ground.
He swept a cold glance across the crowd, and only then did the hall gradually quiet down.
Even so, everyone's eyes remained fixed on him with burning intensity.
"Everyone, begin the next stage of the search of the French Ministry of Magic. Don't leave a single secret passage or hidden room unchecked. Starting today, this will be our base in the French magical world."
The moment Link finished speaking, the logistics hall erupted once again.
Under the Auror captains' orders, every unit except the temporary Hogwarts Hit Wizard Corps, which stayed behind to care for the wounded, was divided into squads of twelve and sent to search their assigned areas.
Link, meanwhile, led Krell, Newland, Skeggfen, and the others straight toward the entrance of the Minister's office at the end of the hall.
The tightly shut door seemed to be protected by some kind of power.
Even after such a fierce battle in the hall, it hadn't suffered the slightest damage.
Yet as Link approached, the door opened by itself.
He wasn't surprised in the least and walked straight into the Minister's office.
Unlike the modern style found throughout the French Ministry of Magic, the Minister's office had clearly returned to the classical style of the old French Ministry entrance hall.
The room was built entirely from marble, decorated with valuable antique-style relief carvings, while all four walls were covered with richly embroidered Turkish crimson brocade.
Inside a wall alcove stood a long sofa, above which hung several oddly shaped scimitars and swords, apparently crafted by goblins. Their scabbards were inlaid with silver and gold, while brilliant gemstones decorated the hilts.
A huge magical glass chandelier hung from the ceiling, which was covered with murals. Its design and colors were exceptionally beautiful.
A thick, finely made Arabian carpet covered the floor, with antique French furniture placed on top of it. The legs of the tables and chairs sank deeply into the carpet.
The French Minister of Magic, whom Link had once met briefly at the headquarters of the International Confederation of Wizards, was sitting calmly in one of the cushioned chairs.
He was dressed in magnificent formal clothing modeled after the uniforms of old Muggle field marshals.
From its flashy style and the countless French Ministry of Magic medals covering his chest, it was obvious that it had been specially made for some important occasion.
Looking behind him, several huge magical portraits hung on the wall.
Without exception, they all depicted men dressed just as extravagantly as the current French Minister.
The golden nameplates beneath them told Link they were all former Ministers of the French Ministry of Magic.
"Ah, so it's Mr. Link Flamel, Supreme Councilor of the British Ministry of Magic!"
The French Minister of Magic spoke loudly.
His manners were incredibly elegant, almost to the point of being cold.
Yet Link could still hear genuine delight in his cheerful tone.
Krell and the others had already spread out the moment they entered, beginning a security search of the office.
Link smiled faintly, rubbing his wand as he said,
"It seems you're in a very good mood. Has something happened that's worth celebrating?"
"Your arrival is the happiest thing that could have happened."
"Oh? That doesn't seem like the reaction I'd expect from the French Minister of Magic."
"No, you're mistaken. It's exactly the reaction someone in my position should have. You see, since it's you who came, I can still live. But if anyone else had come, only endless misery and death would be waiting for me."
The French Minister spoke cheerfully. Then he turned toward Newland, who was about to put away the weapons in the wall alcove.
"Oh! Young Auror, be careful. Those are goblin treasures from the eleventh century. They're no less valuable than the Sword of Gryffindor."
Newland's eyes widened.
He looked at the weapons in his hands, then at Link.
Finally, holding his breath, he carefully placed every one of them into a special Extension Charm bag embroidered with gold thread.
Seeing that, the French Minister nodded with satisfaction.
He voluntarily handed his wand to Krell before smiling and taking a sip of black tea from a piece of Chinese porcelain beside him.
The current French Minister of Magic showed absolutely no intention of resisting.
He was calm to an almost unbelievable degree.
Link also sat down in a cushioned chair opposite him.
Crossing one leg over the other, he said casually,
"You mentioned that others would have come as well. Who are they?"
"Oh, there are far too many! Elder Harris of the International Confederation of Wizards has wanted to lead an army in here for quite some time. You know him. That old man is a wolf! The only way to deal with people like that is with clubs and blades, not kindness or food. They'll never be satisfied. Once they get a little benefit from you, they won't be grateful. They'll only want more until they've swallowed everything you have. I understood all of that clearly. Unfortunately, given the situation at the time, I had no choice."
The French Minister sighed with regret.
"Then there's the mob outside. If Harris is a greedy wolf, they're foolish rats. They were stirred up a little, and they rushed in, wanting to take my position, completely unaware that they were merely someone else's pawns and would never meet a good end.
"And then there's you, Link Flamel, the avenger burning with rage. Although what you're doing is essentially similar to what that mob is doing, from your point of view, it's actually very clever.
"After all, you've known what this was really about from beginning to end. You could even say you deliberately allowed yourself to be used. That way, while getting your revenge, you could also gain even greater benefits.
"Tsk! Very impressive. You're a qualified ruler!
"Lastly, there's Norton from Beauxbatons.
"Or rather, the force that sent Norton as its representative. They're very powerful, and very mysterious. So mysterious that even I, the French Minister of Magic, can't see through them.
"But they are the ones behind all of this. They're the ones controlling everything.
"They are the evil spirits wandering this land!"