He paused, took a slow sip of his drink, and continued.
"There are differing opinions within our organization. Most believe there's no need to cooperate with you. After all, the treasure of the great goblin Ragnok has long since vanished. And your kind is… excessively greedy."
The word "greedy" only deepened the goblin's anger.
"We're greedy? It was wizards who took so many of our artifacts—"
"We provided the materials and paid the crafting fees."
"The ownership of any item belongs to its creator!" the goblin snarled, his voice grinding through clenched teeth.
"That's exactly why we call you greedy."
Goblins claimed ownership of artifacts others had paid to commission, yet demanded large numbers of wands without offering so much as a Knut in return.
The hypocrisy was obvious.
The tall wizard clearly had no interest in arguing further. Their goal was not a true alliance, but to use the goblins as a weapon against the Ministry of Magic.
He raised his wand and flicked it lightly.
At once, their voices dropped to a dull hum, as if sealed inside an invisible barrier.
Tonks felt like an ant on a hot pan. Her anxiety grew, and without realizing it, her ears had shifted slightly in shape. Yet no matter how hard she strained, she couldn't make out a word.
After some time, she saw both figures stand.
The tension between them had eased.
The tall wizard paid Aberforth, then left the tavern with the goblin.
"They're leaving?"
Tonks sprang to her feet. She gulped down the last of her Butterbeer, forced the remaining ribs down her throat, wiped her mouth carelessly with her sleeve, and rushed toward the door.
Then she stopped.
She hesitated, turned back, and clenched her fists.
"Damn John Dolores! Never here when it matters!"
She stamped her foot, hastily scribbled a note, and tossed it onto the counter.
"Bartender! If my partner comes back, give him this!"
Without waiting for a response, she pushed the door open. It swung violently on its worn hinges, letting out a long, grating creak that made several patrons shiver.
"Young people these days… no peace even for a drink…" an old wizard muttered, shaking his head as he returned to reading the latest issue of The Quibbler.
After Tonks left, Aberforth stood silently for a moment before retreating into the kitchen.
A faint silver light flickered briefly, then vanished like a dying star.
...
Elijah cast Homenum Revelio.
He didn't need any physical clues. Within the shimmering golden mist, Tonks's footprints appeared clearly, stretching toward a secluded path.
He followed immediately, his figure slipping into the dense greenery.
Not long after he disappeared, several shadowy figures emerged from behind, moving swiftly into the forest, following his trail.
Each of them carried a wand, fully armed.
They were no ordinary Dark Wizards, but a coordinated group.
Clearly, Elijah and Tonks had already been marked as targets.
Elijah followed the trail all the way to its end.
Here, the path vanished beneath overgrown weeds and fallen leaves. The footprints ended abruptly.
"Flight? Or Apparition?" he murmured.
With a smooth motion, he raised his wand.
Magic rippled through the air.
The scene rewound.
Faint images from a few hours earlier appeared before his eyes.
Two cloaked figures—one tall, one short—had arrived here.
The tall wizard tossed down a crude wand, as if it were a trivial offering. The goblin looked displeased but said nothing.
"To the ruins," the tall wizard said softly.
Then his body stretched unnaturally, twisting into a black point.
Pop.
A flash of green light burst from it.
"Avada Kedavra!"
!!!
The Killing Curse flashed like green lightning, piercing straight through the illusory phantom and hurtling toward Elijah's chest.
The emerald light filled his vision in an instant. His heart jolted, and for a split second, he could no longer distinguish illusion from reality. He remained motionless as the spell struck him head-on.
His body was flung backward like a torn puppet, crashing silently onto the ground.
Seven or eight Dark Wizards in black robes slowly stepped out of the shadows. They seemed slightly surprised, as if they hadn't expected things to go so smoothly.
"I thought this Auror would be troublesome, but he went down so easily."
"Hmph. Anyone hit by the Killing Curse would die—even Albus Dumbledore. What's an Auror?" one of them sneered. "Do those idiots at the Ministry really think we wouldn't notice they're watching us?"
"What a pity. If we didn't only need one sacrifice, you might've lived a little longer."
"What about the body?"
"Leave it. Let the Ministry deal with it themselves," another Dark Wizard said with a cruel laugh.
They hadn't exposed anything. This was nothing more than a slap in the Ministry's face—and the Ministry would still think it was the goblins causing trouble.
"Let's go."
With a series of sharp cracks, the group Disapparated at once, the air popping like a string of firecrackers.
Silence returned to the forest.
Only the faint stirrings of life remained, along with a sharp, piercing cry—a male eagle's call.
A golden bird swooped down, landing on the ground and transforming back into Elijah. Meanwhile, the lifeless "body" lying nearby suddenly split open, its surface turning brown before dissolving into the damp earth.
From beginning to end, the Dark Wizards had only killed a mud puppet.
Elijah had already noticed he was being followed. The moment he entered the forest, he used their blind spot to transform into an eagle, while simultaneously creating a decoy.
He wasn't concerned about seven or eight Dark Wizards. What worried him was the time Tonks had been missing. He couldn't afford to guess where they had Apparated to. Even a small mistake could cost him the chance to save her.
That was why he staged this.
Now, he knew where the so-called ruins were.
The trace of Apparition magic still lingered in the air. All he needed to do was follow it.
Closing his eyes, he felt as if an invisible hook had caught his navel and yanked him forward. His body twisted, his senses spinning like he had been thrown into a tumbling machine.
The next moment, damp air brushed against his face.
"Whoosh—"
The endless roar of waves echoed around him.
"The seaside?"
Elijah shook his head slightly, dispelling the lingering dizziness.
He found himself inside a shallow, damp cave, no more than two or three meters deep.
Stepping outside, he was greeted by harsh light and the salty howl of sea wind. As he emerged fully, he immediately recognized where he was.
In the distance, the ruins of a tower clung to a cliff carved by relentless waves. The sea surged against the rocks below, hollowing out caves along the shoreline. The cave he had emerged from was one of them. Along the cliff face, a narrow, winding path stretched toward the tower.
Like the tower itself, the path bore the scars of time. Dry grass grew wildly through cracks in the stone, and everything lay in ruin, as though a fierce battle had once taken place here.
"This is… the ruin from Legacy that leads to Gringotts?"
Elijah recognized it at once, a spark of excitement flashing in his eyes. Perhaps he could finally uncover clues related to Ancient Magic.
There was almost no cover along the path leading to the tower. The Dark Wizards who had attacked him were already far ahead.
Not wanting to alert them, Elijah transformed into a golden eagle, took to the air, and flew over the coastline before landing silently atop a broken pillar of the ruined tower.
Looking down, he saw a bound figure lying unconscious on the ground.
A man.
Elijah paused, then quickly realized—it was Tonks in disguise.
She was still alive.
Good. That meant he wouldn't need to rely on the Time-Turner.
Her awareness isn't bad. She thought to transform before following them.
Since Tonks was safe for now, Elijah remained hidden. He scanned the surroundings for traces of Ancient Magic while listening to the conversation below.
The tower was mostly in ruins. Only fragments of murals remained on the stone walls, depicting ancient magical wonders. The only structure still standing intact was a wizard statue on the eastern platform, though it held no real secret.
"According to Ragnok's records, the gateway to Ancient Magic is hidden within these ruins," the goblin said, gripping a broken wand tightly. Without the strand of magical creature hair visible inside, it would have looked no different from a rotten stick. "Once the ritual is complete, the door will open."
"Ancient Magic…"
The man standing at the center of the tower appeared to be the leader. He wore a black robe, his face concealed behind a metal mask. At the mention of Ancient Magic, his posture shifted, as though he were hearing something intoxicating.
He took a deep breath, almost entranced. Then, abruptly, his tone sharpened.
"But, Dokuro—how do I know your kind isn't deceiving us?"
"Deceiving? It's wizards who deceive each other!" Dokuro snapped. Then, as if realizing something, he roared, "Radovan Rookwood, are you planning to break our agreement?"
Rookwood?
Perched atop the ruins, Elijah tilted his head slightly. After confirming the name, he examined the masked man more closely.
Not long ago, Elijah had visited August Rookwood in Azkaban, seeking information about Vault 12 and Ancient Magic. That pathetic Death Eater had known nothing.
Yet this man clearly did.
Elijah's gaze lingered on the parts of his face visible beneath the mask. The lips, the jawline… they bore a resemblance to the man in Azkaban.
There was no doubt.
They were related.
This Radovan Rookwood likely belonged to another branch of the family—one that had not followed Voldemort to ruin.
"Don't be so quick to assume the worst," Radovan Rookwood said calmly. "You goblins want wands. I want Ancient Magic. Our goals don't conflict. In fact, they align perfectly, don't they?"
He stepped forward into the center of the tower and spread his arms.
Under the setting sun, the ocean seemed to sink into shadow, as though something beneath its surface was stirring—something ready to rise, like a silver moon emerging from the depths.