This choice left Isabella somewhat puzzled. Werewolves had the greatest advantage in cramped, complex environments, especially when facing Magical Congress of the United States wizards, each of whom had a flying broomstick.
The impoverished werewolves had lost air superiority from the very beginning. Without it, they were nothing but targets to those Magical Congress of the United States wizards speeding through the air on broomsticks.
"What are they doing? Committing suicide?"
The question had barely surfaced in Isabella's not-so-sharp mind after transforming when she realized that the werewolves were not insane.
They had given up their only advantage because they were covering someone!
Pandora Lovegood!
She emerged from the woods, seemingly having cast some magic on herself. Her whole body glided lightly and swiftly down the slope, diving toward the foot of the mountain.
Many werewolves surrounded her, both near and far, including Peters, who had confronted her earlier. His towering build and fur as black as his skin made him far too conspicuous.
Rumble!
Amid thunder exploding beneath the clear sky, several bolts of lightning struck toward that strange group heading downhill, only to be blocked by an Ultimate Shield Charm jointly cast by the werewolves.
Magical Congress of the United States wizards swooped down, intercepted, and gave chase, but the group never stopped. Whenever someone pursued them, a werewolf would break away from the formation and entangle the pursuer.
If anyone was accidentally injured, they would also stay behind on their own, refusing to slow down the group.
Peters's howls grew increasingly varied. He was using the werewolves' "language" to issue orders and direct them.
Through their brutal sacrifices, Isabella watched as Pandora finally returned to the camp beside the river valley, which had long since been smashed to pieces by the earlier "meteor shower."
The Magical Congress