74. Massacre.

Ryan hadn't been the only one dealing with the Death Eaters. While he was still exchanging wagers with Sirius, the others had already retreated back to the tent. As soon as the fighting erupted, they didn't hesitate.

Serenity moved like a shadow through the chaos, her presence undetectable until it was too late. With lethal precision, she slit throats and used her deadly poison to take down anyone in her path. Her speed was inhuman, and she struck with the silent efficiency of a master assassin.

Yue, on the other hand, unleashed torrents of fireballs and lightning bolts, raining destruction upon the attackers. The fiery blasts and crackling energy lit up the night as enemies fell before her onslaught.

Rachel, cloaked in darkness, made the shadows her weapons. Tendrils of darkness stretched out, wrapping around the remaining Death Eaters with a vice-like grip, either squeezing the life from them or flinging them aside like rag dolls. Her shadows also protected the innocent, sweeping them away from danger.

They were beyond human, their strength and reflexes amplified by the power within them. Against them, no one stood a chance.

In the distance, the familiar crack of lightning signaled that Ryan was also in the thick of the battle, lending his own brand of destruction. But as powerful as he was, he wasn't alone—his relentless and deadly companions ensured that no enemy escaped unscathed.

The bodies of the Death Eaters piled up, their numbers dwindling as the girls made short work of them. Several tents burned, casting an eerie glow over the battlefield. Those who survived had long since vanished, retreating via Portkeys to escape the carnage.

With their work done, the girls slipped back into the shadows, retreating as swiftly as they had arrived. By the time the Aurors arrived, the danger had already passed.

They had fought like gods, and in the end, only ashes and silence remained.

---

The next morning, sunlight peeked through the curtains of the townhouse. The calm early morning in London was a stark contrast to the chaos of the previous night. Inside, the faint hum of magical wards and the comforting scent of fresh coffee filled the air. The group had retreated here after the World Cup incident, away from the prying eyes of the public and the aftermath of the attack.

Ryan sat at the table, his fingers idly flipping through the latest edition of The Daily Prophet, which had arrived via their magical mailbox.

"World Cup Massacre: Over 100 Dead, Including Wizengamot Members!"

The headline leapt out at him. He scanned the article, unable to ignore the weight of the words. A grim satisfaction settled over him—at least the truth had come out. Among the names of the deceased were several prominent figures in the wizarding world: Lord Nott, Lord Crabbe, Lord Goyle. Once untouchable, now revealed as active Death Eaters—and now dead.

The magical world had been shaken. Nothing would be the same.

Across the table, Serenity, Yue, and Rachel sat together. Serenity skimmed the paper with little interest, her dark purple gaze flickering toward Ryan now and then. Yue sat calmly, red eyes narrowed with an unreadable expression. Rachel ran a hand through her dark hair, her thoughts elsewhere as she read aloud.

"... It seems these deaths have ignited more suspicion. Many are questioning whether the Ministry has lost control. With such prominent figures involved, they'll be scrambling for answers. But there's more at play than they realize."

Yue's voice broke through his thoughts. "The Ministry will try to cover it up. They always do. It's only a matter of time before the real story comes out. And when it does, chaos will follow."

"Oh well, not our problem. If there were any pictures of us, they'd already be sending letters or trying to arrest us. Sirius probably saw me obliterating Death Eaters, but he didn't seem to care. Besides, the house is under Fidelius—no one can find us anyway." Ryan tossed the paper aside. "Excellent work, by the way."

The girls preened under his praise.

"The only good Death Eater is a dead Death Eater. If Voldie ever comes back, we've thinned his workforce and saved countless lives in the process," Rachel said, biting into her toast.

Serenity nodded. Anything that threatened Ryan was an obstacle to be removed with surgical precision. Voldemort and his followers were nothing more than future corpses in her eyes.

Yue, for her part, only cared about Ryan and their small circle. Ending the lives of a few masked scum was nothing if it meant preserving her peaceful life with him.

Aside from a few worried letters from Hermione—who had been with Harry, Remus, and the Weasleys during the attack—nothing else happened. No Auror visits, no inquiries. Life carried on as usual. They had no regrets about what they had done. It didn't impact their daily lives in the slightest.

---

However, for one person, the incident had left a lasting impression.

A certain French Veela found herself haunted by dreams of her hero, a deep obsession taking root.

Veela were creatures of intense love and passion, and the most attractive thing to them was power—along with the strength of mind to resist their allure. Her hero possessed both. Night after night, she woke up slick with arousal, forced to satisfy herself with her fingers as she relived the moment he had saved her.

She had even taken to using the family Pensieve, revisiting her memories of him over and over again. Her family had seen him in the memories and, based on his flawless French accent, mistakenly assumed him to be a fellow countryman.

The Delacour family, prominent figures in the French Ministry—especially Jean Delacour, the Director of the French Auror Department—had taken action. An ad had been placed in the French newspapers, seeking the mysterious young man who had saved their daughter, offering a reward and an invitation to personally thank him.

Unbeknownst to them, their daughter's infatuation had already spiraled into something far deeper than simple gratitude.