Braun

A gray tide stood silently behind the brown-haired young man.

In the night, countless figures wore gray robes, their heads slightly bowed. The shadows of their cloaks completely concealed their faces, making even their heights and builds appear identical.

This was an extremely sophisticated Confundus Charm.

There were no whispers among the crowd, no shifting bodies; even the rise and fall of their breathing was difficult to detect.

They were like statues standing atop the graveyard's stone slabs, like messengers of death from hell, carrying the lifeless stillness and pressure of something not meant to belong to the living.

The people in the courtyard were no strangers to this group. They had all seen the Gray-robed Wizards crush Muggle bases, rescue imprisoned underage wizards or Muggle children, and sometimes punish notorious villains.

Some angrily denounced them as "butchers with no bottom line" and "executioners in mourning clothes." Others mockingly called them "nosy wizard police" and "hypocrites who dressed up slaughter as justice."

But now, the Death Eaters facing this army finally understood that the edited footage could never convey such oppressive force—when they appeared before them, even the air seemed to freeze.

Everyone began to tremble.

Macnair's legs shook, Goyle could barely hold onto his wand, and Yaxley, Selwyn, and the others had already begun looking for a way to escape.

They felt profound regret—regret that they had not avoided this place early on like certain colleagues, but had instead risked appearing on the livestream because they feared punishment from the Dark Lord, rushing to the place where the Dark Mark had summoned them.

Rare shock appeared on Voldemort's pale face.

—How was this possible?

The monastery was protected by the Fidelius Charm, and he himself was the secret-keeper!

He had once broken into the Potter family home, which