"Disperse! Don't let his area magic hit you!" Yaxley reacted immediately. Gathering together only made Alan's magic easier to land, and because their own spells were all launched from the front, Alan's defensive pressure was far too low.
Upon hearing the command, several students broke to the flanks, occasionally firing spells to interfere. However, the flock of birds beside Alan moved as if driven by his own arm; whenever a spell drew close, a small bird dove to intercept it, sacrificing itself to neutralize the threat.
"Nebulus." Seeing them try to spread out, Alan resorted to his old trick.
"Not good! Quickly, get closer—don't let him pick us off one by one! Hurricane Curse!" Yaxley gnashed his teeth in fury. The moment they dispersed, Alan used the mist to isolate them. The bastard was too wicked; he moved through the dense fog as if he were in clear daylight, seeing them perfectly while they were blind. Yaxley channeled a massive gust to blow the fog away, once again shouting for everyone to regroup.
After five or six seconds, Yaxley finally cleared the air, but one person was missing from those who had been at his side. As their vision sharpened, they discovered the seventh-year wizard had already fallen, unconscious only a few meters away. The three remaining men stood with ashen faces, their minds feeling as though they were about to fracture.
"Ah!" Travers was tormented beyond endurance. He shrieked hysterically, firing spells at Alan in a frantic, ceaseless stream. Under the weight of fear and anger, the raw power of Travers's spells increased significantly.
But unfortunately, his mind was in disarray. Having lost his composure, his aim was wide, and the trajectory of every spell was too obvious. Alan didn't even activate his birds to block, dodging every attack with a few fluid, minimalist movements.
Alan then cast a Stunning Spell that struck Travers squarely as he stood too far forward, sending him spinning through the air. Now, only two remained: a fifth-year wizard and Yaxley. Both were panting heavily, staring at the calm and composed boy before them. Although they still held a numerical advantage, a sense of absolute despair welled up in their hearts.
"Come on. Round three, if you please." Alan extended a hand in a mocking gesture, his face a mask of indifference.
The two survivors exchanged a look of sheer panic. Yaxley could no longer maintain his veneer of composure. He gritted his teeth and screamed, "Alan, you forced my hand! Avada Kedavra!"
Descending into madness, Yaxley no longer cared about the consequences of using a Killing Curse on a student. As if to bolster his own failing courage, he roared the incantation before releasing the venomous green light.
*Heh. I thought you wouldn't take the bait. I didn't expect you to be so foolish.*
Alan, as if he had been preparing for this exact moment, instantly bunched his remaining birds into a dense cluster to intercept the incoming green light. Simultaneously, he executed a sharp sidestep, clearing the curse's path entirely.
The Killing Curse obliterated the birds it collided with and spent its power. Even if the spell had penetrated the obstacle, it wouldn't have touched Alan, who had already pivoted out of the line of fire. In the same breath, Alan cast two Impediment Jinxes, violently knocking back the last two opponents.
The fifth-year was sent flying by the immense force, his mind reeling from the shock of seeing Yaxley use an Unforgivable Curse. *How dared he? This is death...* but before he could finish the thought, he hit the ground and lost consciousness.
Seeing that every ambusher had been taken down, including Milly in her disguise, a total of eighteen enemies lay unconscious. Or rather, seventeen.
"Accio wands!" Dozens of wands rose into the air and landed in Alan's grip. The memory of Christmas two years ago was vivid; after every battle, the first step was to disarm.
Holding the large bundle of wands, Alan walked over to a fallen figure and kicked him hard. "Get up. Stop playing dead."
Rozier, who had been actively playing dead since the mist began to spread, let out an "ouch" and scrambled to his feet. "You didn't have to kick me, did you?"
Though Rozier had been hiding, he had witnessed the entire slaughter. Alan had effortlessly dismantled nearly twenty wizards, a feat that left Rozier paralyzed with fear. He was profoundly relieved he hadn't betrayed Alan. He couldn't begin to comprehend the boy's current level of power, nor the fact that Yaxley had actually used the Killing Curse.
Rozier looked at the bodies scattered across the wasteland and swallowed hard. "What now? You've dealt with them—shouldn't we leave?"
Alan pulled two potions from his pouch and tossed them to Rozier, sneering. "The matter isn't over yet. What's the rush? Drag these guys into that abandoned shack, then feed them the potions I gave you."
Rozier's face contorted in a bitter expression. He had no idea what Alan intended, but he dared not disobey. He began hauling the bodies one by one.
Alan took out a communication coin and infused it with magic three times. This was the signal he had agreed upon with Higgs and Vivian: three pulses meant everything had gone smoothly and it was time for them to retreat to the castle.
Then, Alan walked silently to Yaxley's side and squatted down. His movements were subtle and precise, as if he were planting a seed.
*Yaxley, you'd better not disappoint me,* Alan thought.
---
Wilkes felt as though he were waking from a long, disjointed nightmare. He dreamed he was ambushing Alan with Yaxley, only to be beaten to a pulp by his own side's stray spells. Was it a dream?
As his consciousness cleared, waves of pain began to flood his brain. His head throbbed, and his vision was a blur. 'Who am I? Where am I?'