"I hated the wrong person? I think you're the one who's senile. You were the one who so confidently told me that Sirius, that bastard, betrayed Lily, and now you want to go back on your word? I don't believe it!" Snape questioned Dumbledore with an ill temper, while Sirius's annoying face flashed through his mind.
"Everyone makes mistakes, and I am no exception. If you truly want to avenge Lily, you'd be better off spending some effort to find Peter Pettigrew. He was the final Secret-Keeper," Dumbledore said helplessly, rubbing his eye sockets.
In truth, there were many wizards who couldn't bring themselves to believe this, much like Snape, including many members of the Order of Merlin. Although Dumbledore had exerted a great deal of effort, he still couldn't convince them; the evidence was simply too weak in their eyes.
"Using a dead person as a shield—is that what you bastards do now?" Although Snape had some doubts in his heart, he still mocked them with full malice before leaving the office, flicking his sleeve as he went.
Dumbledore, left behind, smiled bitterly and sighed. His gaze focused again on the clouds outside the window. "Alan, although Bagnold is willing to trust you unreservedly, how far can you go?"
---
Elsewhere in Britain, other magical creatures were also deeply concerned about this thundercloud. At the Scamander home, Newt was taking care of the creatures in his enclosure when he suddenly heard a piercing bird call. When he stepped out to check, he found that the Thunderbird, which had become robust and strong, had already soared into the sky. Strands of electric arcs flickered around its body as it roared loudly toward the north.
*What's happening? Why is it so agitated?* Newt, bewildered, hurried toward the Thunderbird. However, the creature remained restless, flapping its wings and trying to rush straight north.
Newt was startled. The walls of the enclosure were equipped with powerful protective magic and were part of an Extension Charm array. If the Thunderbird crashed into them, it could be injured, or the array itself might be damaged. He no longer hesitated, taking out his traveling flask and pouring out a magical current that coiled around the Thunderbird, managing with great difficulty to drag it back to the ground.
But no matter how he tried to soothe it, the Thunderbird remained extremely agitated. When Alan used the lightning to temper his body, the mental connection between them had been instantly amplified. The Thunderbird had felt that storm, activating its innate instinct to chase lightning. Unfortunately, this was southern Britain, far from the Forbidden Forest in the north. Newt, feeling nothing himself, could only try to control the creature in a daze.
Fortunately, the loss of control didn't last long. After over half an hour, the Thunderbird finally calmed down.
---
At this time, the thunderous vortex above the centaur camp also changed. The swirling clouds slowed, and the flashing lights within them grew sparse. The crowd on the mountaintop had been looking up at the sky throughout the event; though they couldn't see into the clouds, the sight was so rare they hadn't lowered their heads.
"Look, what's that?" Firenze, whose eyesight was exceptional even for a centaur, pointed to the sky and shouted.
"That... that's a human figure? That's the Lord!" Hog, with his sharp eyes, saw the scene and spoke with some uncertainty.
He was uncertain because the figure descending from the clouds looked vastly different from the Alan who had flown up earlier. A figure shimmering with blue-silver light slowly descended. His hair stood on end, completely dyed a light blue. His clothes seemed plated with a layer of silver paint, luminous and sparkling, with electric currents dancing all over his body like silver snakes. Coupled with his silver pupils, he looked like a god descending to the mortal world.
As he descended, the anomalies slowly receded, and he gradually returned to the Alan everyone knew. However, even though his appearance was restored, everyone felt that a profound change had occurred.
Alan's original black pupils had given people a feeling of sharpness. Now, within those black pupils, one could see a faint circle of silver threads, creating a mysterious sensation. When making eye contact with him, people experienced a subtle, uncomfortable tingling, as if being stared at by a fierce predator. Yet, as a whole, Alan felt more reserved and low-key. This strange sense of incongruity was unsettling for everyone.
"L-Lord, are you alright?" Hog asked, stammering slightly as he looked at the awe-inspiring figure.
"I'm fine. I'm very well—in fact, I've never felt better," Alan said as he slowly landed. He lifted Eclipse and gently flicked the blade with his fingertip. A burst of electric sparks rippled along the steel, and a crisp *ding* rang out.
Upon seeing him safe, the centaurs gathered around, the younger ones looking at him with reverence.
"Alan, after such a grand display, your sacred artifact must be complete. Its very emergence caused such a storm; its strength must be formidable," Brandwaldden said, sighing with sincere admiration.
"This also relies on your help. Without your craftsmanship, we could not have forged such a work. Moreover, Eclipse is far from being a true sacred artifact yet; it still has a long way to grow," Alan said, his mood excellent as he exchanged polite words.
The centaurs and Hog leaned forward to observe the longsword. Hog impulsively reached out to touch it, only to be zapped by an electric arc that made his hair stand on end. After letting everyone admire the blade for a while, Alan held it upside down. With a thought, the sword transformed, reshaping itself into a silver staff gripped in his palm.
As his primary equipment, he needed to carry it with him, but a sword was too conspicuous. A staff was much more convenient. Once this was done, the dark clouds gradually dispersed. After Alan helped everyone clear the area, he left the mountaintop.