Chapter 192: Submission or Death

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By Harry's count, he had been standing there for nearly two hours. The tracking charm left on the Lance of Longinus by the Death Eaters was still active, and the bloodhounds would soon make their appearance.

Barely five minutes after Sirius had left, the previously empty horizon began to fill with faint, blurred figures. To Harry, the hunters, who had blended into the night using Disillusionment Charms, appeared as bright blue dots. While magic stored internally remained invisible, spells cast over a wizard's body shone like guiding beacons.

The hunters seemed to have located Harry. Even from several kilometers away, they had likely used some magical device to lock onto him.

A cacophony of sharp cracks echoed as the first wave of hunters Apparated around Harry. The initial group numbered fewer than fifteen, but more hunters, greedy for their share of the bounty, trailed close behind. Upon landing, the hunters immediately unleashed bursts of magical energy, laying down Anti-Apparition Jinxes—a standard move in wizarding chases.

Whether Aurors hunting criminals or bounty hunters pursuing their prey, restricting an opponent's ability to escape was always the first priority. Defensive spells could be prepared in advance, but if the target managed to flee, recapturing them would be exponentially harder.

The fifteen-man professional team moved in seamless coordination. As soon as the Anti-Apparition Jinx was deployed, spells erupted around Harry in rapid succession: magical ropes designed to bind, Disarming Charms, and Stunners. They also hastily erected a dual-purpose barrier to trap both Harry and any opportunistic latecomers. The bounty hunters who had arrived moments too late cursed furiously outside the barrier's range. Still, their frustration didn't stop them from launching rockets to close in on the scene and setting up an even larger perimeter. With numbers on their side, they aimed to turn the tables and ambush the inner circle—a typical case of the hunter becoming the hunted.

Under the night sky, streaks of spells lit up the air like a web of swift, glowing threads. However, to Harry, the seemingly impenetrable net was riddled with flaws. With a few effortless steps and well-timed movements, he dodged the incoming spells with ease.

"Is this what you're looking for?" Harry asked.

The short spear—its greasy surface now cleaned by a Scouring Charm—was raised to chest height. A perfectly cast Lumos spell illuminated the area for a hundred meters, making it as bright as day. Every bounty hunter present got a clear look at the unremarkable weapon. Each of them had seen the Lance of Longinus before; its likeness had caused chaos that persisted for a long time. The weapon had been the centerpiece of countless vicious battles, all marked by bloodshed and unrelenting conflict.

"You can't run anymore. Hand it over, and I might consider not turning you in to the Aurors," said the lead hunter, a grizzled, middle-aged wizard with a thick beard. His scarred face twisted into an expression of predatory excitement.

The man had assumed this opportunity would never come. They were a skilled pack of wolves, but the Ministry of Magic was a massive kennel with thousands of loyal dogs. Moreover, the kennel was impenetrable to ordinary people.

"For you to wreak such havoc in their 'kennel,' you must be quite capable," the man admitted, licking his lips. He extended an olive branch. "Why don't you join me? This place is overflowing with treasure, and I like bold young men like you."

Harry smiled faintly, his composure unbroken. "The Aurors are dogs, but what about you? Are you wolves?" His tone was lighthearted, yet his confidence was palpable.

In the next moment, Harry's smiling face shifted. Though he stood firmly on the ground, the disdain in his gaze seemed to elevate him above everyone present, as though he was looking down on them from a great height.

"Wolves? You're nothing but stray dogs—filthy scavengers feeding on scraps. How dare you act insolent before Lord Voldemort?"

A shroud of black mist rose around Harry, enveloping his figure as he soared into the air. Grindelwald had revealed much about Voldemort's magic, and though Harry had not fully mastered the transformation into a cloud of mist, he could use it to simulate the Dark Lord's ability to fly. Harry might have dismissed the technique as slow and cumbersome, but it was essential now for maintaining his façade.

"Submit! Or die!"

The figure cloaked in black mist raised his arm, paying no heed to the incoming spells. As a dozen curses streaked toward him, his body suddenly rose several feet, evading them as if by Apparition.

"It seems you've chosen the most foolish option," Harry said, his tone cold.

At that moment, the outer circle of bounty hunters broke the barrier that had been erected by the inner group. Though they had initially been acting individually, they had seemingly struck an agreement. Their plan was clear: eliminate the inner group, then capture the ultimate prize—Harry, worth a million Galleons. Even if the bounty were divided among them, each hunter would walk away with at least ten thousand Galleons.

Voldemort's handsome face twisted into a sinister smile. Even in the chaos of the moment, the eerie grin sent shivers down the spine of every wizard who saw it.

"I grant you my mercy—"

"Avada Kedavra!"

The blinding green light pierced the night like a bolt of lightning. Each wizard marked by Harry's awakened magical aura was unable to escape the relentless pursuit of the Killing Curse. In an instant, the fifteen wizards who had surrounded "Voldemort" in the inner circle were struck down. The deadly flash even claimed the lives of more than ten additional wizards who had broken through the magical barrier and flown in closest.

It was as if thirty bodies were falling from the sky like dumplings into boiling water. The dull thuds of their corpses hitting the ground echoed like the toll of a massive bell, reverberating through the hearts of the remaining hunters.

After the initial shock, terror spread like wildfire. Screams of horror cut through the desolate plain as those still alive abandoned their charge. The ruthlessness of the slaughter—the horrifying efficiency of a single spell wiping out so many—was enough to shatter even the most hardened and morally bankrupt of bounty hunters.

Killing one man didn't scare them; a one-percent chance of dying was a gamble they could take. But what if the odds jumped to one in three? Two more Killing Curses would be all it took to decimate their hundred-strong group.

Run! Run! Run!

The only thought echoing in their minds was to escape. If they could just make it beyond the hundred-meter range of the Anti-Apparition Jinx, they could Disapparate to safety.

"You wanted the Lance of Longinus, didn't you? You scum!"

The taunting voice rang out, laced with dark humor.

"Kill me, and it's yours!"

But no one stopped to respond to the jeering words. Instead, they pushed their broomsticks and rockets harder, desperate to fly faster, to escape the jaws of death.

Just as the first wave of hunters neared the edge of the Anti-Apparition Jinx, that dreaded whisper slithered into their ears again.

"Avada Kedavra!"

This time, it wasn't a web of green lightning scattering in all directions. Instead, a massive beam of green light surged forward, slicing cleanly through the fleeing group. The Killing Curse erupted like a cannon, sweeping through the air in a perfect arc. As the spell drained every ounce of magic from Harry's body in that moment, the sickening sound of bodies plummeting to the ground echoed in quick succession.

"Go back and tell the Ministry of Magic," Harry spoke.

A lone survivor, trembling and pale with fear, found himself face-to-face with the man cloaked in black mist. Suspended in midair, the figure loomed before him. Though the man's tone was calm and gentle, it carried the weight of absolute authority and terror.

"The great Dark Lord Voldemort has returned."

"Submit, or die."

(End of Chapter)