A Move at the Tavern, Lucius Steps In

Lyon looked at the man before him without the slightest ripple in his eyes. He removed the glove from his left hand with his right, then extended it forward.

"You can't take the pounds in my hands. Do me a favor, and let's be friends."

The sinister wizard suddenly laughed at the sight. He did not take Lyon's hand, and the wizards around them laughed as well, filling the tavern with cheerful air.

Yet the old wizard behind the counter was the only one who did not laugh. A little boy who could become the boss of more than a hundred people surely had something extraordinary about him.

He had an ominous feeling, but when he thought of the sinister wizard's strength, he quickly relaxed.

Any wizard who could act so arrogantly in the Rusty Bar had some capital to back it up.

"Can't take it? Be friends? You think having a few Muggle underlings means a little brat like you can talk to me like that?"

"Take a good look at your situation. The hundred Muggles behind you—I only need one spell to kill every last one of them right here."

Lyon's expression gradually turned cold. He slowly withdrew his hand, calmly removed the glove from his other hand, and passed it backward.

Seeing Lyon's expression, Mike took the glove with some unease.

The Razor Gang members around them also turned pale and cold, looking at the wizard as though he were already dead.

Their godfather was angry.

And when he got angry, people died.

They all remembered the miserable state of the three wandering wizards who had died in the wasteland yesterday.

"Don't make me repeat myself. Tell your men to hand over the pounds." As he spoke, the wizard had already drawn his wand, his eyes fixed tightly on Lyon. As long as Lyon made any move for his wand, he was certain he could kill him immediately.

"I'm telling you, if you die in the Rusty Bar, no one will investigate."

"My patience has its—"

"Whoosh!"

As the wizard spoke, a blackish-red flame grew larger and larger in his pupils, abruptly cutting off his words.

The wizard's eyes widened. As if he had lost all balance, he was blasted away by the Fiendfyre launched from Lyon's finger, staring at Lyon in utter disbelief!

He had kept his wand in hand the entire time. As long as Lyon made any motion to draw a wand, he could react instantly.

But.

This was wandless casting!

Fiendfyre instantly ignited within the tavern. Terror filled the eyes of the surrounding wizards. Even though they were not that close to the flames, the waves of heat were already more than they could endure!

The wizard now entangled by Fiendfyre panicked. The burning sensation felt as though it would sear straight through his soul. He drew his wand. "Aguamenti!"

"Sizzle!"

The flames did not go out. Instead, they grew even larger!

"Aguamenti! Flame-Freezing Charm! Finite Incantatem!"

Nothing worked!

Could this be... Fiendfyre?

The surrounding wizards were dumbfounded as well. They had never expected such a young boy to be capable of wandless, silent casting!

And the spell he had cast was Fiendfyre!

Fiendfyre was one of the more advanced forms of Dark Magic!

Was this boy insane? Did he want to burn down the entire tavern?!

The Fiendfyre around them raged violently. Lyon controlled it from afar with his fingers, terrifying everyone in the tavern.

The old wizard behind the counter watched the scene in fear. Naturally, he recognized that fire—it was Fiendfyre.

This was a tough one!

The sinister wizard had always been one of the stronger wizards in the area, even a level above ordinary wandering wizards, yet he had not even managed to cast a single offensive spell!

The old wizard knew the power of Fiendfyre. It could very well burn down the tavern entirely.

Even he could not cast such profound Dark Magic. How had this little boy learned it?!

Could he be some Dark Magic master who had taken Polyjuice Potion?!

In the span of a single breath, the sinister wizard's body was instantly swallowed by flames. Under his terrified, venomous gaze, he was reduced to a pile of ashes.

Yet strangely, the Fiendfyre did not spread through the entire tavern. After burning the wizard, the flames let out a terrifying roar before slowly fading away.

Lyon watched the scene with satisfaction. As expected, the Master-grade Fiendfyre Curse was nothing like the proficient-level Fiendfyre Curse he had used yesterday.

In terms of sheer power alone, the Master-grade Fiendfyre Curse could utterly crush hundreds or thousands of ordinary Fiendfyre Curses.

"Now that the nuisance has been dealt with, I believe I can exchange for Galleons?" Lyon smiled elegantly as he addressed the old wizard behind the counter.

He was not worried that word of his killing would get out. He did not care about the Ministry of Magic at all, and the moment he heard this place belonged to the Malfoy Family, he had been certain of it.

If the Malfoy Family still wanted to do business, they could not allow anyone to spread word of this matter. If it truly reached the Ministry of Magic, the Malfoy Family's reputation would be finished.

The logic was simple. I come to your place to buy something, someone at your place tries to kill me, and I kill him. If you still report me, your business will not last.

The old wizard nodded rapidly. This time, his tone was even more respectful.

"Sir, may I see how many pounds you have brought this time? That way, I can prepare the Galleons for you."

The old wizard had clearly backed down. The strength Lyon had displayed was simply beyond anything he could contend with.

Even the entire tavern put together might not be able to defeat Lyon. He feared that, in a fit of anger, Lyon would cast Fiendfyre on him as well.

Lyon nodded gently, as though he had not been the one who had acted just moments ago.

"Mike, bring the money over."

The old wizard had more or less reached a conclusion in his heart. This boy was probably some ancient monster who had taken Polyjuice Potion.

He had heard that many wizards had such peculiar hobbies. They would drink Polyjuice Potion and turn into some frail little boy, then cast a spell at anyone who looked down on them, satisfying their strange inner urges.

In his eyes, Lyon was exactly that kind of person.

Lyon had no idea what the old wizard was thinking. By then, the Razor Gang had already carried over one suitcase after another.

The suitcases were opened.

In an instant, the tavern fell silent once more.

The wandering wizards who had still been watching from nearby stopped speaking as well.

The old wizard's wand nearly slipped from beneath his black robes.

Everyone's eyes were fixed on the opened suitcases.

They were full of money!

There were even several million bloody pounds!

The people around them were now certain that Lyon and his group were no ordinary Muggle gang. They were undoubtedly one of Britain's top mafia organizations!

"Cough, cough. Uh, honored sir, please come to the back alley. I have already informed the Malfoy Family's people, and they will be here shortly."

Lyon and the others followed him to the back alley and entered a small building. Inside was a grand hall, lavishly decorated. Lyon guessed this was one of the Malfoy Family's footholds.

Soon, two sharp bangs like Muggle firecrackers sounded outside.

The small building's doors opened.

"Dad, I really want to go to Durmstrang. Please talk Mom into it!"

At the entrance, a little boy followed behind an adult wizard. Both had blond hair, and their clothes clearly marked them as anything but an ordinary family.

"Draco, I brought you here so you could learn about business from me."

The moment the adult wizard spoke, Lyon immediately understood who they were.

Lucius Malfoy and his idiot son, Draco Malfoy.

Only after a servant whispered in his ear did Lucius look toward the people in the hall, whereupon he suddenly froze.

A full hundred Razor Gang members, all dressed in identical gray suits, stood in the hall. At the center, a little boy sat in a chair.

Upon seeing Lucius, the little boy politely rose to his feet, casually removed his glove, and extended his hand.

"You must be Mr. Malfoy?"

Lucius was clearly taken aback. He had not expected this business partner to be so young.

He forced a smile onto his face. "I never expected the major client old Carl told me about to be you. It is truly rare to see someone so young! I heard you are a top Fiendfyre Curse master."

"May I ask which family you belong to?" Lucius treated Lyon with great courtesy. He must have already learned about what had happened in the tavern.

Lyon smiled, neither confirming nor denying the earlier remarks before speaking.

"Lyon Shelby."

Lucius frowned almost imperceptibly. He had never heard of this family.

His first impression of Lyon was that he was mature beyond his years. This boy displayed a level of courtesy and composure that did not belong to his age.

Combined with the Razor Gang members behind him, Lyon's identity was certainly far from simple.

"Oh, Mr. Shelby, this is my son, Draco Malfoy. Sorry to have kept you waiting."

"I heard someone caused trouble at the Rusty Bar just now. I did not expect that, despite your young age, your attainments in Dark Magic would be so profound."

Draco's eyes were filled with surprise as he studied Lyon's attire. Wasn't he about the same age as himself?

But Lucius had once told him not to interrupt while he was discussing business.

Still, Draco continued examining Lyon's clothes and the subordinates behind him. No matter how he looked at it, Lyon did not resemble the Fiendfyre Curse master his father had described.

"This time, I brought five million pounds. I heard Mr. Malfoy needed them, so I came to make a friend and, while I was at it, exchange these pounds for Galleons."

Lucius wore a smile, but inwardly he was startled.

Lyon had first mentioned that "Mr. Malfoy needed them," seizing the initiative in the conversation. Then he had brought up making friends, easing the relationship between them and downplaying his true purpose of exchanging pounds for Galleons.

It was obvious from his words alone: mature, shrewd. It was hard to imagine Lyon was merely a child!