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Amelia took a deep breath and regained the commanding presence of the iron-fisted Director who had once intimidated the entire magical law enforcement system.

She immediately turned and issued orders to her four trusted guards—who were, in fact, pirates Skylar had subdued earlier. "You four—personally escort Dumbledore and Grindelwald to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. Nothing can go wrong."

Her tone was firm, leaving no room for negotiation. "Tell whoever is in charge there to arrange the finest treatment team. Keep them under constant watch, and do not allow anyone to interfere."

The four guards accepted their orders and hurried toward the temporary treatment area, moving the two legendary wizards, both covered in wounds and nearly unconscious. Dumbledore, battered and bruised, slightly opened his eyes on the stretcher as though he wanted to say something, but in the end, he merely gave a faint nod. Grindelwald's face was deathly pale, yet he retained his usual coldness; only a hint of exhaustion had appeared in the depths of his eyes.

Naturally, Fudge did not approve, but circumstances were stronger than him. None of his trusted aides were at his side right now, leaving him without the confidence to speak up. In his view, Dumbledore had suffered severe injuries and had even been publicly involved with Grindelwald, an internationally wanted fugitive. This was an exceedingly rare opportunity—an excuse to uproot Dumbledore's entire power base.

By the Ministry of Magic's long-standing conventions, the Order of the Phoenix had never received legal recognition. It was, in truth, an illegal organization operating in a gray area, and the identities of most of its members had always been a mystery. Yet at this very moment, nearly every surviving member of the Order had been exposed to the light. Thinking of how these people