Materials

After leaving Dumbledore's office, Ian Alvin stepped into the fireplace and vanished amid emerald-green flames.

The next moment, he emerged from a small house in Hogsmeade. It was the secret residence he had purchased in town—ordinary on the outside, but protected by complex defensive spells within.

He did not return to his aunt's home—the upright magical law enforcer was probably reading the Daily Prophet at that very moment, preparing to question him in both her capacity as his aunt and as an official.

He knew all too well that tomorrow's headline would surely be—

"Legendary genius Ian Alvin returns to Hogwarts!"

He sighed, removed his outer robe, and pulled on a hood.

As night fell, he became a blur and vanished into the air through Apparition.

Several hours later, he appeared in a remote valley. A cold wind carried damp mist, and wolf howls echoed in the distance. Ian stood silently in the darkness, waiting.

Before long, ten shadowy figures appeared one after another, surrounding him.

"Just as the rumors said, you're still alive." One of them raised his wand with a sneer.

Ian's voice was indifferent. "It seems Roberti still isn't honest enough."

Before his words had faded, he raised his wand.

An invisible blade of light sliced through the air, cutting the nearest wizard in half at the waist. A bloody mist churned through the night.

It was an improved version of the "Sectumsempra" spell he had developed from Snape's spell.

The attack was faster, and its trajectory could not be seen.

The remaining nine recoiled in terror and chanted spells in unison, nine curses streaking toward him almost simultaneously.

Ian raised his left hand, and a translucent energy shield appeared.

Light and magic collided, spraying sparks everywhere. Several spells rebounded and struck their casters instead.

They dodged in disarray, but their formation scattered as a result. Ian instantly seized the opening, his body turning into a cloud of shadowy mist.

The next instant, he appeared behind two isolated wizards.

Red light bloomed in his hand like a sword of frozen flame.

It was a spell he had created based on Star Wars, a film he had loved in his previous life—

the Lightsaber Spell.

"Sshk—"

The blade of light swept past, and the two bodies fell at once, scorched marks running across their chests.

"Next," he said softly.

Green light flared.

Someone had seized the opening to cast the Killing Curse.

"Avada Kedavra!"

Ian shifted slightly aside. The green light grazed his shoulder and shattered a rock.

With a sweep of his hand, the earth beneath his feet instantly transformed into metal spikes that burst from underground.

The caster did not even have time to scream before he was pierced into a sieve.

At this point, four of the ten were dead.

Fear filled the remaining wizards' eyes, their breathing ragged. Someone attempted to flee by Apparition, only to find his body dragged back by a strange force.

"Don't waste your effort," Ian said coldly.

"This is an Anti-Apparition Barrier I set up. After studying Hogwarts for seven years, of course I learned it."

They realized in terror that there was nowhere left for them to run.

The five exchanged glances, gritted their teeth, and raised their wands together—

"Protego!"

A massive combined shield rose up, five streams of magic intertwining to form an impregnable barrier.

Ian paused for a moment and sighed softly. "Unfortunately, you chose the wrong opponent."

He raised his wand, light gleaming at its tip.

"Explosion—maximum."

A thunderous blast rang out.

The entire valley was swallowed by blinding white light. The air shook, dust surged, and rocks cracked apart.

When everything fell silent, nothing remained on the ground but chunks of flesh and blood mist. The shield had long since vanished without a trace.

Ian put away his wand, his gaze calm as water.

"Come out, Roberti."

A cloaked man emerged from the distant darkness, his expression stiff.

"Mr. Ian, it has been a long time." He forced out a smile.

"You sent them to test me?" There was no warmth in Ian's voice.

Roberti gave a bitter smile. "It was only caution. You had been out of contact for two years. I thought something had happened to you."

Ian slowly raised his wand, his tone mild. "Your explanation carries too little weight."

The other man hurriedly raised a hand. "I'm willing to compensate you—double the materials, free of charge."

Ian narrowed his eyes, considered it for a moment, then nodded. "Fine."

Roberti secretly let out a breath of relief, though cold sweat still seeped down his back.

Those ten wizards under his command—each possessed combat strength on the level of an Auror, yet all of them had died within minutes.

Such strength had long surpassed the category of "genius."

Once he confirmed Ian's agreement, Roberti waved his wand, and a group of prisoners bound in chains were transported onto the ground.

The ten men were pale, with lingering spell marks carved across their bodies.

Ian stepped closer and lightly touched one man's forehead with his fingertip.

"Reveal yourself."

The man's head began to twist, revealing a half-human, half-wolf face, only for the transformation to freeze amid his struggle.

Ian swept his gaze across the other nine and spoke calmly. "All werewolves. Heinous crimes, countless blood debts. Fine materials."

"Then we have a deal?" Roberti asked tentatively.

"A deal."

As soon as the words fell, Ian raised his hand and removed the Anti-Apparition Barrier.

Roberti immediately Apparated away, leaving behind only a faint afterimage of his presence.

Ian watched that direction, his expression cold.

"Looks like it's time to get rid of him."

He took a bag from his cloak and placed all the werewolves inside. The bag had been enchanted with an Expansion Charm and could hold a hundred items.

Then he inserted his wand into the bag's opening and said softly:

"Summon Roberti's hair."

A strand of black hair floated out of thin air and fell into his palm.

He began chanting a strange incantation, his movements like a dance. Then he took out white powder and blew lightly upon it.

The powder settled on the strand of hair. A black shadow slowly crawled out as if alive, then vanished into the air.

It was a curse he had modified from Haitian voodoo rituals.

He had once accidentally entered that land during a cross-dimensional experimental accident and witnessed the power of the Spirit Curse firsthand.

After that night, he began studying the structure of souls and curses.

Now, he had finally mastered the most primitive and cruel method—

using bloodline as the guide, and taking the heart as the sacrifice.

He murmured softly, "Tomorrow morning, they'll find you with terror on your face and an empty chest."

With that, he swept his wand and summoned powerful acid. The air filled with a corrosive stench. The corpses and bloodstains swiftly dissolved, leaving no trace.

Afterward, he cast a Trace-Reversal Curse, ensuring that this valley could never be divined or reconstructed.

Once everything was complete, the night grew deeper.

Ian stood quietly amid the mountain wind, his black robe fluttering.

He looked into the distance, his gaze cold and sharp—

"The first step toward the Philosopher's Stone is complete."