"Rosewood... The core material is a bit unusual. I've never seen anything like it... But it doesn't matter. As long as it's wood."
Leonard weighed the wand in his hand and immediately claimed mastery over it. No matter how fiercely the core resisted, it was completely suppressed by the wooden body and couldn't put up any real struggle.
The instant Leonard stepped closer, Moen—who had appeared unconscious—suddenly sprang up, wand aimed straight at him.
"Expelliarmus—"
He had only just begun the incantation when Leonard's calm voice cut in.
"Imperio."
Wh... what...?
Moen's thoughts slowed, turning sluggish, confusion flooding what little clarity remained.
How could this brat use an Unforgivable Curse?
How could his Disarming Charm be slower than the other's Unforgivable Curse?
No one answered the questions echoing in his mind. He could only watch as his thoughts gradually froze—then smoothed out again. But something had changed during that process.
"Master," Moen said respectfully to Leonard.
"Mm." Leonard responded and turned toward Fleur.
Still shaken from Moen's sudden attack, Fleur instinctively stepped back as Leonard approached.
She had thought her pursuers were terrifying enough. But this boy was worse—he cast an Unforgivable Curse without hesitation.
Her gaze flicked to Rayel behind her. He had died here for no clear reason. She had just examined the ground; the soil had been warped, clear evidence of Transfiguration.
She had every reason to believe that, too, was Leonard's doing.
He had killed someone, yet his expression was as calm as if he'd swatted a mosquito. And now he'd used an Unforgivable Curse without blinking.
This wasn't some country boy.
He was a future dark overlord in the making.
Fleur clutched her trembling younger sister, fear written all over her face.
"Hey, here's your wand back." Leonard looked at her, puzzled. "Are you cold? Why are you shaking?"
"N-no... it's nothing. Just a bit shaken," Fleur replied with a strained smile as she took her wand.
For the first time, she felt her pride in her beauty meant nothing. Leonard looked at her as if she were completely ordinary.
In truth, aside from the faint effect of her innate charm, her appearance did very little to him.
She had a striking figure and an alluring beauty that came naturally. But after spending so much time with Claudia, Leonard had developed a strong resistance to beautiful women.
In front of perfection, even the most distinctive beauty lost its shine. And Claudia was perfection itself.
"Sorry for borrowing your wand. You're not of age yet, right? Will The Trace cause you any trouble?" Leonard asked.
The Trace was used worldwide. Aside from the wandless regions of Africa, every country under a Ministry of Magic monitored underage wizards' spellcasting through it.
Fleur blinked, caught off guard. Suddenly, the boy didn't seem quite as dangerous as she'd thought.
"It's fine," she said softly. "I'm from a pureblood family. When there are other adult wizards at home, The Trace doesn't activate."
Compared to that, Leonard using her wand to cast an Unforgivable Curse should have been the real problem. But he had just saved her. She couldn't very well complain.
"Oh, that's convenient." Leonard left her there and walked over to the man controlled by the Imperius Curse.
What was the point of chatting with a girl? It was time to get information.
Stopping in front of Moen, Leonard asked bluntly, "What's your name?"
"Moen," he answered obediently.
"Your surname?" Leonard frowned.
In the wizarding world, surnames carried weight. With pureblood families forging alliances everywhere, knowing someone's surname often meant knowing their stance.
"We don't use surnames. Once we join the organization, we sever ties with our families," Moen said.
"No surname?" Leonard considered this. "What organization are you part of? What's your purpose?"
"Raven. Our purpose is to unearth history and seek ancient knowledge long forgotten by wizards."
"Ancient knowledge?" Leonard's expression shifted.
Dumbledore's warning was still fresh in his mind. And now, so soon, he had encountered an organization connected to ancient magic.
An organization searching for ancient knowledge… Could they be the ones pursuing ancient magic as well?
"Do you know anything about ancient magic?" Leonard asked quietly, glancing at Fleur, who was busy comforting her sister and paying no attention to them.
"Ancient magic?" Moen looked genuinely confused. "What is that?"
He didn't know?
Had Leonard guessed wrong?
Leonard pressed his lips together. It was unexpected, but he didn't relax.
It might simply mean Moen wasn't high enough in rank. Better to stay cautious.
Since ancient magic yielded nothing, Leonard moved on to the other matter that concerned him.
"What is a Bloodline Wizard?"
"A Bloodline Wizard is a wizard who, by chance, acquires the bloodline power of another race or Magical Creature. Some gain it through rituals. Others through intermarriage, obtaining bloodline power that can be stably passed down through generations."
Moen spilled everything he knew without hesitation.
"You're searching for Bloodline Wizards?" Leonard continued. "Why?"
"The Second Senator made a prophecy. He ordered us to find Bloodline Wizards and study their power—to trace its source and recover the original power of wizards."
Leonard immediately lost interest.
It sounded like the kind of thing a villainous organization would do. Nothing good ever came from talk like that. It reeked of blood-soaked experiments.
What interested him more was Raven's structure—and this so-called Second Senator.
Moen's answer was simple.
"The Second Senator is the senator who ranks second in Raven's parliamentary system."
It sounded impressive—parliament, senators, and all that.
Strip away the title, though, and it was just the organization's second-in-command.
Some grand "parliamentary system." More like a way to make themselves sound legitimate.
In the end, strength was what mattered. That so-called Senator was probably just the second-strongest wizard in the group.