Dividing Forces for Battle

No one in the entire wizarding world expected that, before the end of March, Walpurgis, who had been lying low for many years, would step out from behind the scenes and officially launch the Third Wizarding War.

Ancient Giant appeared in the Northern Europe wizarding world, and the Italy War broke out in Southern Europe at the same time.

The International Confederation of Wizards, the Medieval European Wizards Association, and the Dark Arts Defense League received hundreds of urgent reports almost simultaneously. Words like "plea for help," "out of contact," "fallen," and "completely out of control" kept appearing on the files, plunging the three already massive international organizations into unprecedented chaos.

At the urgent call of Babajid Akinbade, Babajide of the International Confederation of Wizards, this series of events was directly classified as a "catastrophic crisis" of the highest level. Wizarding regimes in North America, South America, Africa, Asia, and the South Pacific broke their previous wait-and-see attitude and dispatched Auror, Hit Wizard, and Obliviator in a massive cross-continental relief effort.

The International Aurors Force, commanded by Samuel Kohaug, immediately broke camp and headed north, aiming directly at the Northern Europe front.

The Britain Ministry of Magic also received a transfer order from the International Confederation of Wizards.

Amelia Bones had already prepared to send elite Auror to the Northern Europe for defense, but before the orders could be fully issued, a new wave of disaster struck.

Large-scale supernatural riots broke out simultaneously in both the north and south of Great Britain.

Numerous Dementor, Ogre, and Banshee wreak havoc, including Egypt Underworld Warriors who once haunted everyone in the Department of Mysteries. The riots are unprecedented in scale and are concentrated in densely populated Muggle towns.

The Britain Ministry of Magic was instantly dragged into a quagmire, overwhelmed and short-handed. Forget about supporting the Northern Europe front; Amelia even had to order the recall of all the Auror originally stationed at Hogwarts and Hogsmeade Village, to do everything in her power to maintain domestic order.

The atmosphere inside the Ministry of Magic's meeting room was oppressive and tense.

Amelia, Yaxley, the Director of the Sixth Division of the Ministry of Magic, Gadwin Robards, the Head of the Auror Office, gathered together. Battle reports were laid out one after another, and the debates and deductions were almost non-stop.

Skylar was also seated at the conference table.

He didn't participate in the argument, but calmly flipped through the battle reports with the bloodstains still wet, quickly calculating the combat power he could still use.

This time, he knew very well that he could no longer hold back.

The situation in Italy is worse than imagined.

The Italian Ministry of Magic has been completely infiltrated by the enemy, and on the very first day of the civil war, it sided entirely with the Millefiore Family, along with a considerable number of small and medium-sized Italy mafia families.

He dispatched all Seven Dragon Fangs, along with the Nightmare Legion, southward.

The mercenary group under Hidden Rat, the Beast Extermination Execution Squad led by Blood Mastiff, and half of the Black Rose Society's core combat force were all mobilized. In other words, the defense forces of Diagon Alley and Knockturn Alley are now in an unprecedented state of emptiness—they can only rely on the Diagon Alley Commercial Alliance Self-Defense Force and the remaining troops in Knockturn Alley to protect them.

As for the Northern Europe front—the fire Giant Surtur —it was no longer an enemy that conventional forces could handle.

Skylar made a decisive move, sending all seven of his handmaidens to the Northern Europe battlefield. They did not go alone, but first met up with Gulana Cleopatra of the International Confederation of Wizards at its headquarters on Sardinia. This time, the Silver Spear also deployed its elite forces, along with the four Wizard Lords stationed there. All their combat power was assembled on this isolated island and traveled to Durmstrang together through the specially opened Floo Network at headquarters.

At Durmstrang, Karkaroff was also ready. Skylar's allies North Sea Viking Corps and the Northern European Troll Hunting Force, had landed at Durmstrang port and joined the main force.

While the debate in the conference room continued, Skylar had completed all the arrangements. He sat there quietly, his lips pressed tightly together, without saying another word.

The situation had spiraled out of his control, and he had made the best decision he could think of. The rest was now up to his allies, his subordinates, and his maids, hoping they would not disappoint him.

At the edge of the coastline near a Muggle village in northern England.

A fierce wind howled from the greyish-white sea, crashing against the jagged rocks. Waves exploded in the darkness like countless shattered silver scales. The cliffs were steep and stark, like a broken blade plunged into the earth, brutally separating the sea from the sky.

At the bottom of the cliff, the entrance to a cave, almost submerged by the tide, quietly appears.

The air vibrated slightly.

In the next instant, two figures appeared out of nowhere.

Dumbledore stood in front, his robes fluttering in the sea breeze, his silver beard lifted slightly by the wind; Harry followed closely behind, his face pale, the lightning bolt scar on his forehead throbbing faintly in the shadows.

Harry could smell the sea and hear the crashing waves. He gazed at the moonlit sea and the starry night sky, a cold breeze ruffling his hair. He stood on a high, black rock protruding from the sea, surrounded by barren, desolate landscapes. Apart from the vast ocean and rocks, there was not a single tree, grass, or beach in sight.

"Professor..." Harry lowered his voice instinctively, as if the rock face itself was listening, "They brought the orphanage children here?"

"To be precise, not here," Dumbledore said. "There's a place that could barely be called a village, halfway up those cliffs behind us. I believe they took the orphans there so they could breathe the sea air and see the waves. No, I think only Tom Riddle and a few of the boys he bullied ever went there."

The two stepped into the cave.

The cave was long and damp, with ancient magical erosion marks on the rock walls, as if it had been repeatedly gnawed by something. The air was filled with the smells of decay, seawater, and an indescribable sweet and fishy odor, which made one instinctively uncomfortable.

When they reached the end, their steps involuntarily stopped.

A lake stretched out in front of us.

That's not an ordinary body of water.

The lake was like a solidified black mirror, its surface pitch black and lifeless, without reflections or ripples, as if a whole frozen night had been sealed underground. It was not "water," but an abyss leading directly to another world.

Harry stood on the shore, and with just one glance, his heart sank.

"Professor... there's something watching us in here..." He swallowed hard.

"Yes," Dumbledore nodded gently, "And they've already woken up."

He walked slowly to the lakeside, raised his wand, and chanted softly. The lake surface trembled slightly, and an old canoe slowly rose to the surface, as if being pulled up from the bottom of the lake by some force.

"Only two people can sit here," Dumbledore said calmly.

Harry was about to take a step when Dumbledore reached out and stopped him.

Harry.

The old wizard turned around, his gaze unusually solemn. "From now on, whatever you see or hear, remember one thing."

"Don't doubt who you are."

Harry paused for a moment, then nodded.

The canoe silently cut through the dark lake surface, gliding towards the isolated island in the center. The deeper it went, the denser the surrounding silence became, almost suffocating.

Just as the bow of the ship was about to touch the shore, Dumbledore suddenly stood up, his wand flashing like lightning, his gaze sharp as a torch, sweeping across the void of darkness.

"Enough." His voice wasn't loud, but it was like a stone thrown into stagnant water, creating a clear, cold echo in the cave. "Come out. You've watched long enough."

There was no response from the air.

Harry held his breath.

"Invisibility doesn't erase existence." Dumbledore stood up, his wand slightly raised. "Magic... always leaves a trace."

The moment the words left his mouth, the air seemed to freeze, as if time itself had been paused.

In the next instant, three figures appeared simultaneously from the void.

Voldemort stood directly in front, his black robes fluttering in the windless cave. His serpentine face glowed with a sickly light in the dim blue phosphorescence. His scarlet pupils narrowed to slits, fixed Dumbledore, a cruel yet satisfied smile playing on his lips.

"Dumbledore," he murmured, his voice like venom dripping on stone, "You... you still came."

On the left, the pirate king Barbarossa, draped in a tattered yet magnificent crimson cloak, leaned slightly forward, revealing a set of teeth blackened by sea salt. His smile was like a rusty saw, carrying the sweet and pungent smell of sea breeze and blood.

"Old man," he grinned, "You're not leaving today."

On the right, Herpo stood silently, his black robe concealing no superfluous movement. His face was almost translucent with paleness, his pupils a pure, deep purple, like two bottomless wells. Ancient, indifferent, as if he had long since seen through all cycles of birth and death. He didn't even speak, merely tilting his head slightly, a gesture that itself carried a suffocating pressure.

"One against three." Voldemort chuckled softly. "You're as arrogant as ever, Dumbledore."

Dumbledore did not respond to the taunts. The outside world was in chaos, and the simultaneous appearance of three Dark Lord was clearly not a coincidence.

The only explanation is that the journey itself was a trap, an ambush carefully laid for him.

The battle erupted in the next second.