Tonks had just managed to loosen the ropes binding her hands and was considering how to free herself completely when the goblin suddenly shifted everyone's attention onto her.
She immediately froze, not daring to make another move.
"Cut this auror's throat and spread his blood across the ground. Fresh blood will reveal the traces of Ancient Magic," Dokuro said with a sinister grin.
It was a method recorded in Ragnok's manuscript.
If the traces could not be seen with the naked eye, then another color would be used to outline them.
And nothing was more suitable than the fresh blood of a wizard.
Elijah was momentarily stunned. Not because the goblins' cruelty surprised him, but because Rookwood and his followers accepted the idea without hesitation, as if such brutality were entirely ordinary.
Sometimes, one's own kind could be even more ruthless than others.
One of the Dark Wizards stepped forward first, raising his wand high.
"Avada—"
Rookwood grabbed his arm at once, stopping the Killing Curse.
"You can't kill her instantly. The blood won't flow," he said coldly. "We need her alive to drain it properly."
As he spoke, he drew a short dagger from his sleeve.
Elijah had initially been surprised to see a wizard using a blade, but he quickly noticed the runes carved along it.
An alchemical weapon.
Rookwood seized Tonks by the collar, the blade poised at her throat.
Elijah knew he could not wait any longer.
If Tonks died here, even a Time-Turner would not be able to save her.
He dove down immediately, his form cutting through the night like a shadow. His claws struck like blades, tearing into Rookwood's arm.
"Ah—!"
Rookwood screamed as he was knocked back. The dagger slipped from his grasp. Blood poured from the back of his hand, bone briefly visible beneath the torn flesh.
The dripping blood struck the ground, and for a moment, a patch of glowing blue light turned crimson.
But no one paid attention.
All the Dark Wizards, along with Dokuro, reacted at once, raising their wands and unleashing a barrage of spells at Elijah.
Red flashes lit the night in rapid succession, streaking past him as he circled through the air.
Rookwood, grimacing in pain, poured a large amount of dittany over his wound. His eyes burned with fury.
"Shoot down that eagle!"
Elijah weaved through the storm of spells, dodging with ease.
Below, Tonks seized her chance.
Though shocked by Elijah's sudden appearance, she knew this was her moment. Without hesitation, she shrank her body slightly, loosening the ropes.
The moment she broke free, she lunged at the nearest wizard, aiming to snatch his wand.
But it was far from easy.
The wizard cried out the instant she attacked, drawing the attention of the others.
Rookwood, unwilling to lose his sacrifice, shifted his focus immediately.
"Stupefy!"
The spell shot toward Tonks.
But he had underestimated her.
Trained under a legendary Auror, Tonks was no stranger to fighting without a wand. It was a necessary skill.
She reacted instantly, pulling the wizard she had grabbed in front of her as a shield.
The spell struck him instead.
Without hesitation, Tonks tore the wand from his hand, rolled across the ground to avoid further spells, and raised it toward Rookwood.
"Expelliarmus!"
The spell was intercepted mid-air by another Dark Wizard.
Realizing Elijah was no immediate threat, the others redirected their attacks toward Tonks.
They had yet to realize the eagle was an Animagus, assuming it was merely a magical creature under her control.
Tonks was quickly overwhelmed.
She ducked and weaved through the crumbling ruins, using the broken tower as cover, but the Dark Wizards' spells struck like explosions, blasting apart the ancient structure.
The gap in strength became evident.
Even elite Aurors struggled against multiple Dark Wizards, especially pure-bloods like Rookwood, whose magical foundations were deeply rooted.
Tonks was still too inexperienced.
Elijah descended silently.
His wings folded as he landed atop a towering stone pillar.
The silver moonlight framed him, his golden hair swaying in the sea breeze, his eyes burning like fire.
He lowered his wand.
Woosh!
In an instant, an overwhelming force descended from above.
It was as if several massive trolls had been stacked atop their backs. The Dark Wizards' knees buckled, and all of them were forced to the ground.
Tonks, untouched by the pressure, looked up in shock.
…Tom Riddle?
She had thought John Dolores had finally arrived.
She had never imagined the one standing before her would be the very man the Ministry had been desperately searching for.
The figure before her seemed slightly different now. Those golden pupils made him appear even more imposing.
Tonks felt a chill.
The man before her had subdued so many Dark Wizards with ease.
She didn't know if Dumbledore could achieve something like this, but she was certain Moody could not.
At the same time, confusion crept in.
Why had his magic not affected her?
"Tom Riddle…"
"Good evening, everyone," Elijah said calmly.
If not for the fact that he was forcing them all to kneel, it might have even sounded polite.
"Who are you?" Rookwood struggled to raise his head, his voice filled with rage.
Being injured by an animal was humiliating enough. But now, an unknown wizard had appeared and crushed them all without effort.
"My name is Elijah."
He stepped down from the pillar, drifting lightly like a falling feather.
Walking through the ruins, he passed the figures pinned to the ground like writhing insects and approached the semi-transparent gate.
Beyond it, the magnificent structure of Gringotts shimmered faintly into view.
Even without testing it, Elijah knew.
With his magic, he could activate the Ancient Magic symbol on the gate and teleport directly to Gringotts.
But without the key to Vault 12, there was no point.
Unless…
He simply broke in.
A flicker of excitement rose within him.
If Voldemort could break into Gringotts.. Why couldn't Elijah?
Elijah paid no attention to the goblins. Even if Gringotts were blown to pieces, he wouldn't care in the slightest.
After all, what right did a group of inherently greedy creatures, the defeated side of the goblin rebellions, have to control the wizarding economy?
The defeated should behave as such and serve wizards properly. Instead, those creatures had begun to see themselves as masters of wealth.
Sooner or later, Elijah would reclaim everything that rightfully belonged to wizards.
Of course, entering Gringotts might not be difficult—but breaking into Vault 12 would be another matter entirely.
It was a vault protected by Ancient Magic, far older than the goblins' rule over Gringotts.
He stopped, then turned his gaze toward the Dark Wizards and Dokuro, all still pinned to the ground. These people clearly knew something about Ancient Magic, and their goal aligned with his.
Especially that so-called manuscript of Ragnok.
With a casual flick of his wand, a shattered stone reshaped itself into an elegant, cushioned sofa.
Elijah sat down, crossing his legs, and looked down at them.
"I hear you're searching for Ancient Magic. As it happens, I'm quite interested in it as well. Why don't you share your information with me?" he said lightly. Then, as if realizing something, he added, "Ah, that sounded a bit impolite. I should have said 'please.'"
Rookwood: ???
Was this man serious?
He wanted to curse, but he didn't dare.
At that moment, he felt like a helpless creature laid out on a chopping board, entirely at someone else's mercy.
Tonks, however, stepped forward, gripping her wand in both hands like a firearm.
"Surrender, Tom Riddle!"
She was clearly nervous. Although her wand was pointed at Elijah, she was drenched in sweat.
Her breathing was uneven, her heartbeat racing so violently she almost felt she might combust like a Fire-Dwelling Salamander.
That man was merely sitting there, yet the pressure he exerted far exceeded the earlier battle.
Her hands trembled.
"I almost forgot about you."
Elijah acted to have just noticed her. His golden pupils settled on Tonks, and in that instant, she felt as if her soul were being scorched by flames.
She instinctively tried to cast a spell.
But the moment her wand began to glow, a violent shock struck her mind. Her vision went black, and she collapsed unconscious.
Elijah had stunned her directly with a burst of electricity.
Innate magic that could be used freely was far more convenient than spells requiring a wand.
Wands, he thought, were unnecessarily restrictive.
The Dark Wizards, however, were shaken to their core.
Silent casting was already difficult.
But casting without a wand—or even a gesture—was something else entirely.
What kind of monster was this?
Tom Riddle?
Rookwood had, of course, heard of the escaped prisoner. Azkaban had only ever seen two successful escapees: Sirius Black and Tom Riddle.
The former was a notorious traitor, once loyal to the Dark Lord.
The latter was said to be the Heir of Slytherin, the one who had opened the Chamber of Secrets.
But he had never imagined that this "Riddle" would be so powerful.
In Rookwood's view, a man who had controlled a Basilisk yet failed to kill even a single Muggle-born wizard was nothing more than weak.
Cowardly.
Yet now, standing before him, Rookwood felt that perhaps only the Dark Lord could compare.
Had he truly inherited Slytherin's deepest magical knowledge?
Rookwood couldn't help but wonder.
But regardless, power was everything.
In the face of overwhelming strength, all notions of pure-blood pride shattered like fragile glass.
The moment Elijah suppressed them, Rookwood had already abandoned any thought of resistance.