If Dumbledore Were Here...

The moment Vincent appeared, more than a dozen figures wearing identical white cloaks and white masks suddenly filled the hall.

The projection screen in the hall was still showing footage of the Berlin incident. The Dominator Pistols in their hands, glowing an eerie blue, were clearly the same model as those in the footage, and none of the wizards dared make a rash move.

They had been enough to destroy half a factory in an instant; destroying a church sunk beneath the river would certainly be no problem.

"Wayne!" Fudge shouted excitedly. "Guards! Activate the guards, now!"

The Italian Ministry of Magic's minister also wanted to animate the gargoyle guards outside, but the moment he drew his wand, an eerie blue-glowing barrel was pointed at his forehead.

Vincent raised a hand, signaling the old men to lower their guns. "Everyone, I mean no harm."

Under countless watchful eyes, he strolled unhurriedly to the center of the hall.

"I came here to clarify something."

He looked at Belg, whose face was dark with anger. "What happened at Erkstag was my doing, but—"

He turned toward the grimacing Fudge. "But the mess at Azkaban had nothing to do with me. I had no reason to rescue a pack of lunatics."

"Lies!" Fudge's eyes widened. "You colluded with the Dementors! If they hadn't left, those Death Eaters could never have escaped Azkaban!"

Vincent looked at him with utter contempt. "The British Ministry of Magic under your leadership is far too incompetent. A wizard prison holding countless serious criminals actually relied entirely on Dementors for security."

Fudge's face turned livid. He wanted to refute him, but could not find a suitable argument.

"Mr. Wayne—" Belg's face was taut, as dark as an approaching storm. "Your clarification is of no use. Putting Erkstag aside, you