Metamorphosis!

The area around Harry was now an unrecognizable wasteland. The battle had left its mark, as trees lay shattered, their trunks splintered and scattered like matchsticks. The mountain that had once loomed in the distance had collapsed into jagged rubble, its grandeur reduced to ruin. The air was heavy with the smell of charred wood and crushed earth, the remnants of a clash that could have leveled an entire district.

Harry surveyed the devastation, his sharp gaze lingering on the destruction. 'It's a good thing this was out in the wilderness,' he thought. If the fight had taken place within the boundaries of Malian City, the chaos would have surely drawn the attention of other members of the Black Council. He didn't doubt for a second that the Council had more than one Elder stationed there. From the intelligence he had gathered, there were at least four Elders within their ranks. The question remained: 'How many are currently in Malian City?'