The Trial Begins

Beside the three interrogators sat a young wizard—Percy Weasley. The young court recorder sat upright at the very edge of the bench, his quill hovering over the parchment as though ready to record every word that followed.

The boyishness and nervousness had already vanished from his face, replaced by an icy, mechanical air. His expression was utterly indifferent, his lips pressed tightly together, his gaze so calm that not the slightest emotion stirred within it.

Skylar glanced at him, the corner of his lips lifting slightly. Percy Weasley—the prefect who had once pursued perfect discipline at Hogwarts—had now become a rising star at the Ministry of Magic. Under Skylar's control, his ambition had long surpassed that of his original self. For the authority of the Ministry and his own career, he had not hesitated to sacrifice his father, severing all ties with his family and cutting away the last trace of kinship in his heart.

His gaze occasionally swept over Fudge, yet it no longer carried its former fawning and flattering quality. There was only cold composure, along with a hunger for power. In the end, Fudge was merely a stepping stone for his ambitions.

With Divine Insight of Amaterasu, Skylar saw every change in Percy's bearing. He smiled coldly in satisfaction. Percy's uncontrollable ambition would cause him to sink ever deeper, turning him into a sharp blade in Skylar's hand.

According to Skylar's knowledge, those seated behind them on the second row of benches were mostly Fudge and Umbridge's confidants. Umbridge had deliberately arranged them around Fudge, allowing them to bolster his presence when needed.

Skylar narrowed his eyes and focused on a short, fat wizard with a huge bushy black beard, as well as a curly-haired witch. Their names and information passed through his mind.

The wizard was