War Rekindled

When the first urgent message arrived at Ella Cottage, Skylar, sitting in his study, clearly realized that the long-lurking Knights of Walpurgis had finally made their move, and the global wizarding world, which had enjoyed 16 years of peace, would once again be engulfed in war.

The news comes from Durmstrang.

The Durmstrang sealing wax on the envelope was charred and distorted by the high temperature, and the handwriting was so messy that it looked as if it had been hastily written in a gale, with each stroke carrying the writer's despair on the verge of collapse.

In the ice fields of northern Norway, less than a hundred miles from Durmstrang, a Giant engulfed in Eternal Flame burst forth from a fissure in the earth.

It stands over fifty meters tall, larger than any known Giant, its entire body composed of lava and obsidian-like coke, with cracked magma veins flowing across its surface like blood vessels, and each breath it exhales blazing white flames powerful enough to incinerate everything.

Its head has no facial features, only a giant, constantly opening and closing lava maw, like the roaring gates of hell. Its arms are so thick that they can easily tear mountains apart. With each step it takes, the ice instantly vaporizes, the permafrost turns into a boiling lava lake, and the rock layers crack and collapse under the high temperature, emitting a thunderous roar.

That was not the rage of a wild beast, but a pure destruction imbued with the will of an ancient god.

It responds to no words, ignores no threatening spells, and doesn't even bother to retaliate. It simply moves forward relentlessly, mechanically, and unstoppably—like an apocalyptic machine with a predetermined end.

The Norway Ministry of Magic mobilized almost its entire force.

The Auror laid down twelve layers of the highest-level frost barrier, and the Norway Ministry of Magic even joined forces with the Danish Ministry of Magic to urgently activate the "North Star," the national treasure located on Greenland, creating vast swathes of ice and snow, but all of this was in vain.

The flames weren't merely attached to Surtur's surface; they erupted continuously from within its body, as if its heart were an inextinguishable star. Any sealing spells were instantly vaporized within three meters of it. Barriers shattered like paper, ice walls turned to steam at its feet, and the combined silver-blue light barrier of a spellcasting attack exploded into sparks the moment it touched its lava skin.

With few men and a stretched battle line, the Norway wizards were powerless to stop the tide and could only retreat again and again, trading cities and towns for time.

In just three days, three Muggle towns were completely razed to the ground—houses, bridges, and roads were all reduced to ashes, and tens of thousands of Muggle were killed or injured. The International Confederation of Wizards intervened overnight, dispatching its most elite memory-modification team and information forgery experts to do everything in its power to cover up the truth and prevent the International Statute of Secrecy from collapsing completely.

Although Karkaroff was filled with fear, he was also keenly aware that there was no way he could remain uninvolved at this moment.

While rapidly assembling the university's professors and elite students, placing them all on high alert, he also issued an urgent call to allies in Northern Europe — Pure-blood families who were on good terms with him throughout the Northern Europe region, the Sami specialized in raising reindeer, and the Dwarf tribe who lived in caves beneath volcanoes all answered the call and prepared to go to the battlefield together.

Karkaroff's handwritten letter ended with a trembling hand. "This is no ordinary Giant, but a calamity rumored to have been sealed away in ancient times by ancient wizards and the Northern Europe magical races: the fire Giant Surtur. We cannot stop it."

Skylar slowly closed the letter, his fingertips trembling slightly.

He was mentally prepared, knowing that once the Knights of Walpurgis launched a full-scale attack, the war would quickly escalate to a fever pitch. In fact, because of his intelligence advantage, he had already instructed his allies in Northern Europe to be on high alert.

But when the name "Surtur" actually appeared before his eyes, the chill that emanated from his very bones still made him feel a clear unease for the first time.

In Muggle mythology, Surtur is the supreme ruler among the fire Giant, wielding the Twilight Sword, capable of incinerating the seven realms and igniting the apocalyptic fire of Ragnarok with a single strike. Now, this name appears vividly in the real wizarding world—without the Twilight Sword, yet possessing the same destructive power.

It doesn't need conspiracies or legions; it only needs to proceed step by step to turn all of Northern Europe into scorched earth.

It can be said that the enemy's strength far exceeded his expectations.

And this was merely the first heavy blow.

Almost at the same time, a second urgent message arrived from the south.

The Vongola Family's urgent message contained no embellishment, only a calm and brutal statement of facts.

The Millefiore Family launched a full-scale attack.

This time, it was no longer a test or a localized conflict. The enemy mobilized almost all of its available forces, with the battle lines simultaneously deployed at multiple strongholds. The offensive was dense and decisive, clearly indicating that it had been planning this for a long time and was determined to succeed.

Worse still, the intelligence clearly stated that forces not belonging to the Italy wizarding world had appeared on the battlefield—

The Russia illegal mercenary group "Blizzard Butchers," which was exposed in the last battle, has reappeared, and this time even the group's leader, Videmir, is openly present among them without any regard for the consequences.

Moreover, a curse array from the Voodoo Cult, a cult renowned in South America for its sacrificial magic, also appeared eerily behind the battlefield. The air was filled with a strange aura that did not belong to the Europe magic system, and the wails of the dead circled like a flock of crows, immersing the rationality of the living into a chilling fear.

In the study, Skylar stood before the magic map, and warning lights lit up in almost all the key areas at the same time. Northern Europe was burning, Southern Europe was crumbling, and the undercurrents in the distance continued to surge.

His breathing became extremely steady at that moment.

The tension was real—a sense of pressure emanating from the situation itself, like a net slowly tightening. But that tension didn't turn into panic. Instead, his mind worked even more clearly under the pressure, his thoughts unfolding layer by layer, quickly prioritizing what was important and urgent.

This is a signal that the other party has finally torn off their disguise and chosen to no longer conceal their intentions, forcing him to respond.

Skylar took a deep breath, but did not immediately issue any summons or orders.

Durmstrang's urgent message, the near-collapse of the Norway Ministry of Magic's battle report, and the Vongola Family's crisis quickly pieced together a complete picture in his mind. He knew very well that this was not a random calamity, nor was it a reckless attack by the enemy after losing their mind.

This is a diversionary tactic.

The true target of the Knights of Walpurgis has always been only one place— Hogwarts Castle. All they have done is to force themselves away from Hogwarts, and even away from Great Britain.

The study was quiet, with the fireplace crackling softly. Skylar stood before the desk, his gaze fixed on the enormous tactical chessboard. The board was made of obsidian and Mithril, with magic flowing slowly within it, and each piece represented a faction in the real world.

His gaze swept across Northern Europe, Italy, Germany, and France, finally settling on Hogwarts in the center of the chessboard. A white chess piece stood quietly beside it, symbolizing Dumbledore himself and the power of the Order of the Phoenix.

"Barbie."

The air trembled slightly, and a House Elf appeared silently beside the desk. It was small and thin, with drooping ears, wearing an old pillowcase that was so neat it was almost rigid, its hands respectfully placed in front of it, and its head bowed low.

This is the House Elf responsible for cleaning the Gryffindor dormitories and the Headmaster's Office. Skylar had arranged for it to monitor Harry Potter and Dumbledore's movements.

Skylar skipped the pleasantries, his tone direct and calm. "Where is Dumbledore now?"

The Sprite answered immediately, without any hesitation. "Your Excellency Malfoy, the Headmaster left Hogwarts a few minutes ago."

Skylar's eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly.

With whom?

"With Harry Potter," Barbie added, "They left together."

A sense of Grim crept into Skylar's mind.

"Do you know where they went?" he asked again.

"They didn't say anything, Barbie can't be sure." The Sprite shook his head back and forth.

Skylar's brow furrowed deeply.

Something's not right.

This feeling came without warning, yet it was exceptionally clear, like a cold needle piercing precisely into the depths of his thoughts.

Surtur has appeared in the world.

The Northern Europe are in dire need of help.

Total chaos outside.

At this juncture, Dumbledore quietly left the school with Harry.

Skylar slowly raised his hand, his fingertips landing next to the Order of the Phoenix's main piece on the chessboard, but he didn't move it. His brows furrowed little by little, his expression shifting from calm to vigilance, and then to a kind of almost instinctive wariness.

His intuition told him that Dumbledore's departure was also part of the enemy's conspiracy, and that there was probably another scheme targeting Dumbledore behind it. But he couldn't care less about that now; without Dumbledore, he couldn't leave so easily.