Court Wizard

Controlled nuclear fusion symbolized a new energy revolution. Its birth would mean the elimination of every existing form of energy, and countries that maintained global hegemony through traditional energy sources would face tremendous challenges.

The Queen had not expected the important matter Vincent mentioned to be this important—important enough to transcend national boundaries and belong to all humanity's dreams.

After a brief moment of shock, she saw confidence and sincerity in Vincent's eyes.

With existing technology, true controlled nuclear fusion could not be achieved even within several decades.

But Vincent was a wizard, a Muggle-born wizard.

The Queen could not suppress her quickened breathing. The hand holding her exquisite teacup trembled slightly, revealing the extreme unrest in her heart.

"Lord Wayne, this is a serious violation of the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy."

"I know." Vincent revealed a bitter smile. "Your Majesty, do you know why I'm wanted by the British Ministry of Magic?"

The Queen gently shook her head.

"Because Voldemort has returned."

Her tightly furrowed brow gradually relaxed.

She had witnessed countless significant historical events in her life and understood very well that the truth behind certain matters ought to be buried completely.

A truth like Voldemort's return, one capable of causing upheaval in the Wizarding World, could be buried. But there was absolutely no need to make someone else the scapegoat for everything, especially when Vincent was still so young.

He should have had a bright future, becoming a wizard as great as Dumbledore.

Unfortunately, because of the Ministry of Magic's mistaken judgment, he had become the century's third Dark Lord.

The Queen could not help sighing with emotion, but she sensed not the slightest sorrow in Vincent's eyes. This filled her with respect.

"Lord Wayne, may I ask you a question?"

"Of course, Your Majesty."

"Between wizards and us, which side do you favor?"

After a moment of silence, Vincent shook his head. "I favor humanity as a whole. Wizards and Muggles should coexist peacefully, which is why I intend to prove the necessity of magic through achieving controlled nuclear fusion."

The Queen roughly understood what he intended to do.

Since ancient times, both Muggles and wizards had held deep prejudices against one another. Magic was the most obvious distinction between them, and proving its necessity would indeed unilaterally reduce Muggles' prejudice against wizards.

Conversely, the realization of controlled nuclear fusion would also make wizards deeply understand that technology was not worthless. Muggle technology was just as great as magic.

The Queen looked at Vincent with particular kindness. "Lord Wayne, since this is for all humanity, I have no reason to refuse to help."

Sincere gratitude appeared on Vincent's face. "Thank you, Your Majesty."

The Queen's smile was especially warm. "Lord Wayne, I suddenly had an idea. Although we have never formally had a dedicated court wizard, I hope you can take on this special position."

Only one official court wizard had ever appeared in the history of the British royal family: Merlin Ambrose, the legendary figure who helped King Arthur ascend the throne.

There had also been quite a few court sorcerers, but none of them held official posts or had political or ceremonial duties.

But the court wizard the Queen spoke of would clearly possess the core responsibilities of old Merlin: political counsel, predicting major events, medical assistance, magical practice, and more.

Faced with the olive branch extended by the royal family, Vincent decisively shook his head and refused without hesitation.

"Thank you for your kind regard, Your Majesty, but I'm afraid I must disappoint you."

The Queen raised a hand to indicate that it was no matter. "Lord Dumbledore once refused this proposal as well. In my view, Lord Wayne, you seem to be the same kind of person as him."

Vincent's eye twitched slightly.

That old bastard Dumbledore had refused simply because he feared losing himself in the vortex of power. Vincent's reason for refusing was equally simple: he hated politics.

Being the British royal family's official court wizard was a top-tier status in the Muggle world. Even the Ministry of Magic and the International Confederation of Wizards would be wary of the political influence that came with such an identity.

But accepting that identity would mean putting another shackle on himself, which ran contrary to the original purpose behind the Succession Society's founding.

The Queen keenly noticed the displeasure he revealed. "Lord Wayne, do you have some conflict with Lord Dumbledore?"

Vincent gave a dry laugh. "Your Majesty, what conflict could we possibly have? Without Professor Dumbledore's guidance, I wouldn't have achieved what I have today."

He spoke the word "achieved" through gritted teeth, making the Queen curious.

At that moment, Vincent's expression suddenly changed.

It was the presence of wizards—and there was more than one.

"Lord Wayne?"

"Your Majesty, other wizards have arrived. I should leave."

The Queen expressed her understanding. "Lord Wayne, I will inform the Prime Minister of your matter. As for the specific arrangements, you may decide them among yourselves."

Vincent expressed his gratitude once more, then put on the Imposter Mask and vanished into a black-and-white vortex.

He appeared outside the castle, startling the fully alert Kingsley into immediately drawing his wand.

Judging by Kingsley's reaction, the arrivals did not seem to be wizards from the Ministry of Magic.

"Mr. Shacklebolt, do you have any idea who they are?"

"You have so many enemies in Britain. How would I know who came?"

If they were not from the Ministry of Magic, then they could only be those pure-blood lords.

But why would those people, who never acted without profit, have their sights on Vincent?

Wayne Enterprises had already withdrawn from the British market. They should have been popping champagne in celebration.

Vincent took out the Serpent Staff. "Mr. Shacklebolt, they're here for me. Go protect the Queen."

He did not need Vincent's reminder. Kingsley had already intended to do exactly that.

In the blink of an eye, Vincent vanished into the air.

On a hill a kilometer away, more than a dozen wizards in black robes appeared one after another.

Their bodies all emitted faint auras of Dark Magic. They were clearly Dark wizards who specialized in dirty work.

"The target has left the castle. We can act."

"Where is he?"

"Outside the castle—but no, he disappeared!"

An elderly wizard looked around in terror.

The detection magic he took such pride in had not reacted at all. Clearly, they had underestimated the target's magical ability.

One of the witches urgently sent a message through her Magical Communicator, while the remaining wizards each cast magical barriers.

The silent hill was so quiet that a needle could have been heard falling. The elderly wizard had already spread his magic across a radius of one hundred meters, and he would detect any disturbance immediately.

Although things had deviated slightly from the original plan, they had already lured the target here. They only needed to patiently wait for him to reveal himself.

But while they had patience, Vincent, more than a hundred meters away, had even more.

He had already set up the anti-materiel sniper rifle Pandora had transformed into and was observing their every movement through an alchemically modified scope.