After the first wave of spells ended, seven or eight wizards rushed out from the burning shop, wands drawn, faces tense.
Their leader froze the moment he recognized Karmit.
"Karmit Black… our Exile Camp has never offended the Black Family. Why would the Black Patriarch attack us?"
Karmit replied, "Oh? You haven't offended us?
And you think I wouldn't find out who kidnapped my subordinate's family? You underestimate my reach over Knockturn Alley."
The leader's face paled. "We were only hired! Lord Black, you said before that all wandering wizards in Knockturn Alley could take jobs for money—even if the job targeted you.
Everyone acts by their own means! Those were your rules!
Will you break your own rules now? You said those rules were to give wandering wizards a chance to survive!"
Karmit answered flatly, "You still dare lie? You think hiding behind the Yaxley Family protects you? And even if I break my rules—so what?
Enough. Your time is up."
Before the man could react, Bilair and Belinda charged forward.
Outnumbered or not—seven against two—it didn't matter. Their movements showed not the slightest hesitation.
Green flashes erupted from their wands. The Killing Curse from the very first strike.
The leader of the Exile Camp snarled, "If you want our lives… then we'll take yours with us!
Let's see if the one who made the rules of Knockturn Alley is really as strong as they say! If we kill you, we can become the next rulers here!"
He vanished mid-sentence—Apparition.
He reappeared behind Karmit.
"Die, Black!"
Karmit snorted. "Overconfident fool."
He vanished just as quickly.
The leader panicked. "Apparition—how is he this fast!?"
He raised his wand in desperation.
A ghostly armored shell wrapped around him— the Shield Charm.
He scanned the shadows anxiously.
Then a voice whispered behind him— "So you're ready."
He spun around, only to see a dark green curse.
His shield shattered instantly. The spell pierced his chest.
His final thought: How… was he so fast…?
Meanwhile, Bilair and Belinda tore through the remaining exiles like wolves in a flock of sheep.
They had once been the strongest wanderers in Knockturn Alley before Karmit subdued them— now, with his training, they were monsters.
Within moments, every exile lay dead.
Belinda tapped her wand, levitating the bodies and tossing them back inside the shop.
She and Bilair returned to Karmit's side.
Karmit looked down at the wand he held. The crack along its length had widened; it was seconds away from breaking entirely.
He murmured, "Use your last bit of life well."
He lifted the wand toward the shop.
Flames burst from the tip—forming a massive serpent of fire that roared forward and swallowed the building whole.
The wand shattered, even the core crumbling to ash. Karmit tossed the remains into the burning inferno.
Watching the fire consume the shop, he said calmly, "Return and rest. The Aurors will arrive any minute."
Bilair and Belinda knelt on one knee.
"Safe journey, Master."
Karmit Apparated away.
The two exchanged a glance.
Bilair muttered, "Master's mastery of dark magic grows more terrifying by the day."
Belinda nodded. "His Killing Curse is already turning black—and his mind remains unaffected. That's the strangest part."
Bilair shrugged. "He's always been different. Beyond anything we can understand."
"Let's go," Belinda said. "The Aurors are coming."
Bilair smirked. "I hope Master attacks the Ministry soon. Killing Aurors is far more interesting than killing these weaklings."
They vanished.
Moments later, swirling distortions appeared as Aurors arrived on scene.
Rufus Scrimgeour, head of the Auror Office, stared grimly at the blazing ruin. "Put out the fire!"
The Aurors acted quickly, driving their wands into the ground.
°Finite Incantatem°
Golden barriers compressed inward, shrinking the Fiendfyre until it finally guttered out.
Aurors rushed inside to examine the charred remains.
One Auror approached Scrimgeour. "Sir, signs of combat everywhere. According to our records, this shop belonged to the Exile Camp.
There's one body left inside—partially burned."
Scrimgeour frowned. "The Exile Camp? Did they have enemies?"
The Auror hesitated. "No idea… though they've been close to the Yaxley Family recently. Could it be…"
"Speak," Scrimgeour snapped.
"Could it be the Black Family?"
Scrimgeour's expression hardened.
"Seal the evidence. Bring everything back. We'll investigate later.
And it seems I'll need to pay the Black estate a visit soon."
The Aurors collected everything, then Apparated away.
Only after the last Auror vanished did the wandering wizards dare approach. Seeing the shop reduced to ashes, they sucked in sharp breaths.
No one spoke.
No one dared.
Because everyone knew— there was only one person in Knockturn Alley who fought like this.
The true, unchallenged King of Knockturn Alley.
Karmit Black.
Every wandless exile in the alley knew the rule:
Ignore the Ministry. Ignore the Aurors.
But never, ever defy Karmit Black—
unless you wished to be burned by Fiendfyre until nothing remained.