In the crowd, Lucius and Narcissa saw this scene, both stopping in their tracks simultaneously.
When they had seen the dark mark rise earlier, a long-lost thrill had surged in their hearts.
Lucius had even been considering how to prove his loyalty to the Dark Lord and get him to forgive him for losing the diary.
Fortunately, they were one step too slow.
"Merlin..." Narcissa's voice trembled slightly.
Lucius stared at Charlie in mid-air, beads of sweat forming on his forehead.
He had only ever felt the kind of pressure radiating from Charlie from one other person—Lord Voldemort.
Even Dumbledore had never put him under such pressure; after all, Dumbledore preferred talking over fighting.
Lucius remembered how, just hours ago, he had solemnly advised Charlie to be careful of the dangers outside. Thinking about it now, it was absurdly laughable.
In the woods, Barty watched the flames consume everything, his pupils contracting violently.
The master was right; Charlie White was not someone he could handle.
This level of magic had already reached the tier of the master and Dumbledore.
Only the master, only the Dark Lord, could kill him.
At this moment, he didn't even have the thought of launching a sneak attack; after all, he didn't believe he could successfully sneak attack the Dark Lord.
Barty threw his wand down beside Winky and donned the invisibility cloak, his figure instantly vanishing into the darkness.
...
At the edge of the campsite, Barty Crouch Sr. pushed through the crowd and shouted toward Charlie in mid-air.
"Mr. White! Please, cease your magic!"
His voice sounded exceptionally abrupt in the chaotic campsite.
The surrounding Wizards were stunned, many turning their heads to look at this Ministry of Magic official.
Crouch didn't care about that; he continued to shout.
"Spare their lives! We can capture more Death Eaters! Please, Mr. White, show mercy!"
His tone was urgent, even carrying a hint of pleading.
Charlie hovered in mid-air, looking down at the sea of flames below.
If anyone was still alive, it seemed like a good idea to keep them for interrogation to find out the latest situation regarding Lord Voldemort.
Thus, Charlie waved his wand.
The flames instantly contracted and then dissipated completely.
On the ground, dozens of Death Eaters lay scattered in disarray, their condition unknown.
Some of their robes were still smoking, while others had shattered masks, revealing burned faces.
Crouch didn't care about the heat; he knelt down and began to check the identities of the Death Eaters one by one.
His movements were hurried as he ripped off one mask after another.
Each time he lifted one, he would pause for a moment before continuing to the next.
This made Charlie somewhat surprised. Was Crouch really that dedicated to his job?
Charlie descended slowly, bringing the Roberts family with him.
They had completely lost consciousness, but their chests were still rising and falling; they were clearly still alive.
The surrounding Wizards automatically cleared a path, all of them looking at Charlie with an indescribable gaze.
Awe, shock, and some other complicated emotions that were hard to define.
Mr. Weasley squeezed out from the crowd, his face still showing lingering fear.
"Charlie, that was just... truly amazing." He walked up to Charlie and reached out to grip Charlie's arm.
"Thank you. If it weren't for you, who knows how many people would have suffered tonight."
Charlie waved his hand.
"Don't rush to thank me yet. The Roberts family needs to be checked. After being toyed with by the Death Eaters for so long, they might have some lasting trauma."
"Right, right, right. I'll arrange it immediately." Mr. Weasley turned and shouted to the Ministry of Magic staff.
"Quick, take this family to be checked!"
Several Ministry of Magic staff hurried forward and carefully carried the Roberts family away.
At this moment, Mrs. Weasley rushed over from another direction, her hair messy and her face full of anxiety.
"Charlie!" she shouted as she ran.
"Have you seen Ron and Harry and the others? We got separated when the chaos started."
Charlie nodded.
"They're fine. I had them hide in a safe place first."
After saying that, he waved his wand, and his figure instantly vanished from the spot.
A moment later, Charlie reappeared.
This time, he had several people with him—Ron, Harry, Hermione, Ginny, and the unconscious Fred and George.
The moment Mrs. Weasley saw them, tears almost fell.
She rushed over to hug Ginny and reached out to touch Ron's face, confirming they were truly safe and sound.
"Merlin be praised, you're all okay..."
Ron struggled a bit uncomfortably: "Mum, I'm fine, really fine."
However, since The Twins were still unconscious, Mrs. Weasley couldn't help but feel a bit worried.
"What's wrong with Fred and George?"
"They're just knocked out," Charlie explained.
"They were stunned when they encountered the Death Eaters earlier; it shouldn't be anything serious."
Mrs. Weasley was slightly reassured; she tapped The Twins' faces twice with her wand, using a Spell to wake them up.
Fred and George opened their eyes at the same time, staring blankly at the sky for a few seconds.
George spoke first: "Are we dead?"
Fred followed up: "Is this hell?"
Their gazes turned to Mrs. Weasley's face, and George's pupils dilated.
"Mum? Why are you in hell too?"
"Did you die too?"
Slap! Slap!
Mrs. Weasley gave each of them a whack, hitting them directly on the forehead.
"Ouch!" Both of them covered their heads and shrank back.
"Mum, stop hitting us!" Fred cried out.
"We were wrong!" George quickly begged for mercy.
The pain woke them up completely.
Mrs. Weasley took a deep breath, pulled them both into her arms, and kissed each of them on the forehead.
"As long as you're okay, you can do anything." Her voice trembled slightly.
Fred and George exchanged a glance, their eyes lighting up simultaneously.
"Really?" Fred asked cautiously.
George continued: "Then can we research the Ultimate Dungbomb at home?"
"No."
Mrs. Weasley changed her expression instantly, letting go of them with a cold face.
These two brats didn't deserve maternal concern.
"Anything means letting you live safely, not letting you play with dung at home."
Fred muttered quietly: "But you just said we could do anything..."
"What did you say?" Mrs. Weasley glared at him.
"Nothing!" The two said in unison, shrinking their necks and not daring to say another word.
In the distance, Crouch was still busy.
After checking the appearance of the last Death Eater, he slowly let out a sigh of relief.
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