Thunderbird sneered at the man’s nervousness. "Relax. The Ministry of Magic won’t be a problem this time," he said dismissively. "They’re busy elsewhere, distracted by the mess I stirred up for them. We’ll transfer the cargo without issue, and to ensure nothing goes wrong, I’ll personally escort the shipment this time."
"What?" Occamy turned sharply, glaring at Thunderbird. "What did you do? Lord Phoenix explicitly ordered us to keep a low profile. Tell me you didn’t pull something reckless. If you’ve drawn too much attention, the Ministry could, "
"Enough!" Thunderbird’s tone sharpened. "I’m in charge here. If I’m not afraid, why are you? Besides, once this shipment is through, we can keep this site silent for the next six months."
Occamy still looked uneasy. "That’s not, "
", There’s nothing to worry about," Thunderbird cut him off impatiently. "This plan was approved by the club. I personally secured the resources for this operation. Once it’s done, the transfer station can be built at our own pace. Or are you questioning my decision?"
Then, BOOM!!!!
A thunderclap split the sky, deafening and immediate. A dazzling silver light flared above the coastline, illuminating a rolling mass of storm clouds that hadn’t been there moments ago. And in that instant, before anyone in the smuggling operation could even react, figures emerged from the darkness, surrounding them in precise clusters.
The attack was swift, coordinated, and utterly devastating. Aurors materialized in formation, moving with lethal precision as they launched their opening salvo. A hailstorm of enchanted talismans streaked through the air, detonating upon impact with concussive force. Blinding flashes erupted, turning the night into searing white light. Sonic booms cracked through the atmosphere, sending shockwaves across the clearing. The smugglers reeled, momentarily overwhelmed by the chaos, blinded, deafened, and utterly disoriented.
For a fleeting moment, it felt as if the entire world had turned against them. And then, the real damage began. Several smugglers were flung backward by explosive hexes, hitting the ground with bone-shattering force. Others crumpled, incapacitated by the disorienting effects of the flashbang amulets. Before they could even think about mounting a defense, the second wave of spells rained down.
Thunderbird, who had mere moments ago been arrogantly boasting about their security, was now snarling in frustration. "It’s an attack, you fools!" he roared. "Get yourselves together and fight back! Obscurifumus!"
The air around them churned as thick fog erupted from Thunderbird’s wand, rolling outward like a living thing. Within seconds, the battlefield was engulfed in an unnatural mist, swallowing up figures and shrouding everything in ghostly obscurity.
Occamy, still reeling from the shock, turned a panicked glare on Thunderbird. "Didn’t you just say we’d be safe?" he snapped, barely containing his fear. He could hear spells whizzing through the fog, hear the smuggler ranks crumbling under the attack. "Half of our men are already down!"
It was true. The Aurors had struck with such ruthless efficiency that nearly half of the enemy force had been incapacitated before the battle had even truly begun. But Alex had expected Thunderbird to use a cover spell. The moment the fog billowed out, the Aurors executed the next phase of their strategy.
Following Alex’s orders, the teams immediately shrank formation, closing in toward each other. Their captains wasted no time in countering the mist, one after another, they raised their wands and cast Depulso, sending powerful gusts of wind tearing through the fog.
The smugglers, now fully aware they were under attack, scrambled to fight back. Spells flew wildly, but the Aurors had already tightened their formation, making it difficult for their attacks to land. Many of their curses struck empty air or were easily deflected by defensive shields.
Occamy, realizing the dire situation, acted quickly. Without hesitation, he yanked a dark leather bag from his robes, its surface writhed with an ominous black mist. This was his last resort, a weapon he had never intended to use so recklessly. "Exsurgat Umbravivens!" With a sharp incantation, he fired a pale beam of magic at the bag.
The moment the spell struck, the bag convulsed violently. The black mist thickened, swirling chaotically as the mouth of the bag stretched unnaturally wide.
Boom!
A sickly, rotting stench filled the air as ghouls, twisted, emaciated creatures with blackened skin and hollow eyes, began pouring out. Their bodies were slick with decay, their limbs jerking unnaturally as they clawed their way into the battlefield. One became five. Five became twenty. Soon, dozens of them were stumbling forward, their vacant eyes locking onto the Aurors. More continued to emerge, as if the bag contained an endless supply of the undead.
The Aurors had barely finished dispelling Thunderbird’s fog when they found themselves facing this new horror. Medea, who had successfully led her team to secure the flying carpet, immediately assessed the situation. "Use Fire-Making and Blasting Curses!" she shouted. "And don’t let them touch you, ghouls are crawling with corpse venom!"
"Incendio!" "Confringo!"
Flames erupted across the battlefield, swallowing ghouls whole. The fire roared as it caught onto their oil-slicked flesh, consuming them in an instant. Others were obliterated by well-placed Blasting Curses, their fragile bodies no match for direct force.
Medea herself fought viciously, cutting down enemies left and right. In mere moments, she and her team had completely secured the transport vehicle, turning it into a defensive stronghold. More Auror squads closed in, tightening their formation, ensuring that none of the smuggled creatures, or their potential hostage, fell into enemy hands. But despite their best efforts, the sheer number of ghouls was overwhelming. Even as they fell in droves, more crawled out from the cursed bag. Within minutes, over a hundred of them swarmed the battlefield, turning the fight into a brutal, grinding war of attrition.
Where were the Silver Wands during this? Occupied.
The moment battle broke out, Alex and Moody had already moved to isolate them. Thunderbird, enraged by how swiftly his operation had fallen apart, had tried to counterattack, only to be immediately forced on the defensive. A series of razor-sharp Cutting Curses came hurtling toward him at high speed.
Swish! Swish! Swish!
Thunderbird barely had time to react. He turned sharply, raising his wand in a defensive sweep, barely managing to deflect the four Sectumsempra curses thrown his way. But something was wrong. The power behind the spells was far beyond what he had expected. They weren’t just fast, they were laced with an overwhelming amount of magic. Each strike sent shockwaves through his defenses, forcing him to stagger backward.
Thunderbird narrowed his eyes behind his mask. Through the fading mist, he caught sight of his attacker. A young man in a black formal suit embroidered with silver threads was charging straight at him, lightning crackling above his head.
Recognition flashed in Thunderbird’s mind. "Him?" The alchemist from Wilson’s Arcane Alchemica. Thunderbird had assumed the Fiendfire trap he set would have killed him, but now, Alex Wilson stood before him, very much alive.