The Five-Legged Monster, its hind legs still constricted, felt the pressure suddenly ease. It let out a whimper of relief, collapsed to the ground, and trembled uncontrollably.
Sagres no longer spared it a glance. He turned to Snowy Owl, his tone flat. "It's yours. Handle it."
Ms. Snowy Owl suppressed the turmoil in her heart and nodded.
She quickly produced a heavy metal collar engraved with silver binding runes, along with several special chains shimmering with restraining light, from a pocket on her person.
This terrified Five-Legged Monster had now become her most troublesome, yet most valuable, "commodity."
Once it was secured, Thunderbird stepped forward and tore out several large clumps of the Five-Legged Monster's tough, steel-wire-like hair, carefully stowing them in a dragonhide pouch.
Nightingale, meanwhile, took out several crystal vials and cautiously collected a few bottles of the gurgling deep-blue blood. While she was at it, she used a magical dagger to pry loose a massive toenail, its edge sharp as a scythe.
Robin and Stork moved a short distance away and began inspecting the entrance to the ruins Swift had been tasked with exploring, while Sagres casually asked about Kestrel's recovery. Only the flesh monster remained idle throughout.
"Take me back into the emblem," it suddenly said, its abyssal, bubbling voice carrying an unsettling calm.
Everyone looked at it in surprise.
The multiple eyes embedded within its flesh now seemed unusually focused, or rather, stilled, as though its chaotic thoughts had finally settled into a single point.
"I have some questions I need to think about quietly."
Sagres looked at it in silence, not asking what those questions were.
He simply gave a slight nod, took out the bronze emblem gleaming with a cold metallic sheen, and lightly tapped it with his wand.
An invisible pulling force spread out. The massive flesh began to writhe and contract, finally transforming into a dark red stream of light that was drawn into the emblem.
…
Sagres then walked over casually to Hummingbird. Glancing at Swift, who was weak but no longer in immediate danger, he asked in an offhand tone, "Tell me, what was the root cause of this incident? Did the protective charms fail, or did you underestimate that thing's brute strength?"
Swift took the Essence of Dittany Hummingbird handed him, applied it to his wound, and frowned deeply. "Neither. We were deceived by those cunning goblins at Gringotts."
His voice was thick with irritation. "They claimed to have mastered the Five-Legged Monster's seasonal migration routes and even 'discovered' this supposedly 'safe' magical ruin with great seriousness."
He paused, his tone turning cold. "I doubt they knew whether the ruin was safe at all. They simply wanted cannon fodder to scout ahead. If it succeeded, they would reap the rewards. If it failed, I would most likely die here, with no loss to them."
As he spoke, he handed a thick, hardbound notebook to Sagres. "Take a look at this."
"For its sake, they also spread a great deal of false information within Gringotts, claiming they had complete control over the movements of the entire Five-Legged Monster colony. They fabricated a story about only one adult individual straying to the outskirts of a Muggle fishing village, causing three livestock to go missing and a fisherman to fall off a cliff 'from fright,' making it all sound convincingly real."
Sagres's grey eyes skimmed over the notebook, his expression unruffled. "You didn't verify this information privately through the Goblin Liaison Office?"
A flicker of embarrassment crossed Swift's face. "Uh… no. I rushed over the moment I received the message, and I was attacked as soon as I set foot here."
"Very well." Sagres nodded, his voice as calm as a frozen lake. "We'll keep this record. There will be plenty of chances later to settle accounts with those long-fingered bankers."
He closed the notebook and handed it back to Swift.
Swift accepted it with a silent nod.
Just then, Robin's excited voice cut through the salty sea breeze. "Found it! The entrance is here! It was concealed by seaweed and a Disillusionment Charm!"
Everyone's attention snapped over at once.
After Robin and Stork cleared away a thick swathe of seaweed clinging to the rocks, a heavily weathered stone archway was revealed.
Its edges were carved with indistinct runes of strange, intertwined creatures, faintly radiating magical energy.
"The Delia Island ruin… the Macleavy family's former secret stronghold?" Nightingale regarded the doorway with interest.
"We'll know once we go in. Stay alert." Sagres moved forward, taking the lead.
The tip of his wand glowed with a soft, pale light, pushing back the darkness beyond the threshold.
The interior of the ruin was far more spacious than it appeared from outside. Winding passages descended into the depths, the air cold and damp, heavy with the scent of seawater and the weight of accumulated years.
The walls were coated in thick salt frost and moss, and from time to time, fragments of incomplete murals could be seen. They depicted scenes of taming sea beasts or performing some kind of oceanic ritual, though most had long since faded into blurs.
Along the way, the atmosphere was far less tense than one might expect when exploring a dangerous ruin.
Sagres walked at the front, his steps unhurried and steady.
From time to time, his wand tapped lightly against an inconspicuous stone jutting from the wall, causing a magical trap, faintly gleaming with concealed dark light, to extinguish in silence. At other moments, he would flick it toward what appeared to be an ordinary puddle on the ground, which would instantly freeze over, revealing a bottomless pit beneath. Occasionally, he murmured a brief counter-curse at an invisible magical disturbance in the air, dispersing a petrification spell before it could take effect.
Everything he did was effortless, as though he were merely strolling through his own garden.
"Hummingbird, how is the 'treatment' you're in charge of progressing?"
As he casually dismantled a magical mechanism keyed to tidal fluctuations, he asked without turning around, "I'm referring to my dear former colleague, Gilderoy Lockhart."
Hummingbird's expression immediately turned complicated, a mix of disgust and reluctant admiration for the formidable mind arts of that person.
She carefully retrieved a small box wrapped in black velvet from a concealed pocket in her medical bag. When she opened it, a crystal sphere slightly smaller than a chicken egg lay inside, silver mist slowly drifting within.
"It's like peeling away a toxin wrapped in sugar; the process is extremely… tedious."
Hummingbird's voice was tired. "His mind's defensive structure is as murky as a pot of mud—fragile and weak—but at its core sits a false 'Gilderoy Lockhart' persona that is unusually tenacious, clinging desperately to those stolen glories."
"Did you use Veritaserum?" Nightingale asked.
"No." Hummingbird shook her head. "I used deep memory cleansing, along with some… potent mental clarification potions."
She carefully lifted the crystal sphere. The silver mist inside churned with her movement, and within it, twisted, blurred faces and fragments of scenes could just be made out.
"Most of his genuine experiences—especially the adventures he stole and altered, as well as the memories of him casting Memory Charms on the victims to conceal his crimes—have all been stripped away and securely sealed in here."
"The chain of evidence is complete, enough to reconstruct every one of his shameful plagiarisms and every malicious alteration. His gilded lies will be torn apart, exposing the rotten foundation beneath."
A trace of coldness edged Hummingbird's tone.
Sagres glanced at the crystal sphere containing Lockhart's incriminating memories, a faint smile touching his lips.
"Excellent. The time is ripe. It's time for this great author to experience the backlash of the real world," he said evenly. "You may begin 'leaking' these 'remarkable achievements' of his to the Daily Prophet."
Hummingbird nodded solemnly and carefully put the crystal box away.
Sagres moved forward at an unhurried pace, his wand flicking casually as a living poisonous vine shot out from a crack in the rock, only to wither into ash before it could wrap around his ankle.
"Stork, I need your 'public opinion weathervane' to start turning." He cast the other a glance, his tone measured. "Ms. Clarisse Mestoie, the current Dean of St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, is advanced in years and overburdened, particularly showing excessive caution and sluggish responses to major medical crises."
Stork's hooded head tilted slightly, signalling that he was listening.
Sagres continued, "St. Mungo's needs a leader who is more decisive, more professional, more authoritative, and who commands the trust of frontline healers."
He inclined his head a fraction, his gaze briefly passing over Hummingbird, who was carefully scanning their surroundings.
"Hummingbird's outstanding performance and selfless dedication to her patients over the years at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, as well as her unique experience in handling complex magical injuries, deserve to be seen and recognised by more people."
His eyes returned to Stork, their grey depths steady. "Do you understand what needs to be done?"
A glimmer passed through Stork's eyes beneath the hood. He gave a slight nod, his voice low. "Don't worry. The winds of public opinion will blow where they should."
His gaze drifted toward the depths of the passage, as though he could already see the headlines of the coming days: Lockhart's exposure, rumours of Madam Mestoie's retirement, and calls for Ms. Hummingbird's appointment soon dominating the front pages of major newspapers and the Wizarding Wireless Network.
He paused, then added, "Of course, if Dean Mestoie's response to the 'suggestion' of retirement is not sufficiently cooperative, then certain 'oversights' in her management during her tenure, 'disputes over resource allocation,' and older matters concerning medical integrity will be 're-examined' by 'well-meaning informed individuals' at the appropriate time."
"At that point, public demand for transparency and professionalism within the medical system will naturally reach an unprecedented level."
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