The small boat sped through the dark waters, moving back at an even faster pace than when it had come. An hour later, it shot into the area where the large black ship was stationed, almost like a rocket.
At this moment, the deck of the Durmstrang black ship was completely deserted. Hoffa held onto Oksivia, urging her repeatedly, "Hurry! Quickly, senior! Take me to check that scepter!"
Oksivia dared not delay. She pushed open the cabin door of the black ship and strode inside. Hoffa followed closely behind, his heart pounding like a drum.
Would something go wrong?
No, nothing would go wrong.
This ship was sailing ceaselessly through the Black Sea. Without the coordinates, Sylby couldn't possibly locate it. It had been less than a single day since Sylby arrived at Durmstrang—far too short a time for him to have found this ship.
Looking into the cabin, Hoffa saw that the Durmstrang students were still awake. The faint candlelight flickering in the rooms and the calm, peaceful atmosphere seemed to confirm his assumptions.
But if it were Sylby...
What would he do?
Hoffa couldn't help but wonder.
Suddenly, as they passed the communications room, a student abruptly stood up and called out to Hoffa, "Professor Bach! An urgent secret message from London!"
Hoffa hadn't expected to be addressed as a professor, and he instinctively stopped in his tracks.
A cloaked student quickly approached him, handing over a wax-sealed letter. "Apologies, the black ship is constantly changing locations, and the letter verification process is strict. I hope this hasn't delayed anything important for you."
Hoffa took the letter and saw the eagle-lion-badger-snake emblem stamped on it.
His expression changed instantly. He tore the letter open and began to read.
**"Hoffa, your letter has been received. Time is short, so I'll be brief. The Squib soldiers have launched a new wave of attacks on Hogwarts. Their assault is extremely fierce. At this moment, we do not believe you should be at Durmstrang. If the financial support is cut off, Sylby will no longer have the resources to launch another large-scale destructive campaign.
My suggestion is to proceed cautiously. Perhaps you should return to help Hogwarts repel this wave of attacks first before making further plans.
However, I have also shared your letter with other members of the Order of the Phoenix. Some strongly support your actions, believing that this is a crucial moment for the entire magical world to unite. If you can bring Durmstrang's wizards back to aid us, that would be even better.
The choice is yours. Enclosed is a map—make sure you don't take the wrong path. By the way, Durmstrang's current headmaster is someone you know—Oksivia Normanova. She is about to get married. I had the honor of attending her engagement ceremony. She is even more assertive than before, but in the face of such immense uncertainty, I believe a strategy of defense might be the wiser choice.
She may have made some moves over the years—I don't know what they are, and I hope they aren't too extreme. If you decide to go to the Far East, please be extremely careful. Be careful, careful, and even more careful.
—Love, Albus."**
Hoffa stared at the letter, his mind spinning in a dizzying blur.
It felt as if, in an instant, all the blood had been drained from his brain.
At last, he realized where that nagging sense of unease had been coming from all along.
With trembling hands, he pulled out another letter that had been sent to him under the name "Albus Dumbledore."
He opened it.
At that moment, all the words on the letter had vanished, leaving behind only three large English words—
"Love you, Bro."
Hoffa staggered backward. Then, suddenly, he started slapping himself—again and again—until blood spurted from his mouth.
Despite all his caution, he had still fallen into the trap. He should have realized it the moment the owl delivered the letter so quickly. He should have realized it when Durmstrang's traps had targeted him. Albus Dumbledore would never have given him a map leading straight to death! He should have figured it out the moment he saw that Oksivia was headmaster.
Albus Dumbledore would never have been unaware of who the current headmaster of Durmstrang was!
But he had been careless.
Just a moment of carelessness—
And he had lost the most crucial advantage!
The Durmstrang students nearby were horrified. They rushed forward, trying to stop Hoffa from his self-destructive frenzy.
"Professor Bach! Professor Bach, stop! What's wrong?"
Hoffa gasped for breath. He couldn't even find the words to explain. With a sudden force, he shoved the students aside and bolted toward Oksivia's office.
As he ran, he shouted, "Oksivia!!"
In the corridor outside the office, cloaked wizard guards saw Hoffa charging forward and reached out to stop him. "The headmaster's office is a private area—do not intrude!"
Boom!
Hoffa rammed into the two wizards, knocking them to the ground. He sprinted through the ship's corridors and slammed open the door to Oksivia's office.
Dim candlelight flickered inside. A faint metallic scent of blood filled Hoffa's nostrils, making his scalp tingle. Gripping the staircase railing, he navigated past the headmaster's desk and hurried toward the resting chamber on the upper floor.
Inside the chamber, the skylight was wide open. The lanterns on the mast cast dim, wavering light onto the large bed in the center of the room. The dark-colored bedsheets were completely soaked in blood.
Lying in the pool of crimson was a man, his eyes wide open, staring lifelessly at the skylight above.
Below his neck, Vladimir's torso had been completely split open. A dark red spike protruded high from his heart—he was unmistakably, irreversibly dead.
Oksivia stood at the bedside, staring at a row of blood-written words on the nightstand.
"I really love you all!"
"Oksivia, Hoffa!"
"I love you to death!"
"This third wheel? I might as well get rid of him!"
"So, how is it? Do you like this gift?"
Beneath the streaks of fresh, dripping blood, there was a winking face drawn with the same blood—(^_)☆.
But when Hoffa saw that expression, he almost fainted!
With a trembling hand, he reached out and touched the bloodstains on the bed. The blood was still warm, indicating that Vladimir had been killed not long ago. In Vladimir's palm, he was holding a long black leather box.
Hoffa opened the box.
Without a doubt, the box meant to hold the Slytherin scepter was already empty—Sylby had taken the Horcrux.
"How… how could he have found it?"
Standing beside her fiancé's corpse, Osiya murmured in disbelief.
Hoffa had no time to explain, not even time to grieve. He leaped up, rushing towards the skylight. Gazing at the top of the black ship, he saw a faint glimmer disappearing into the distance.
Without hesitation, he jumped down from the skylight, grabbing Osiya's shoulders. She was utterly shaken by the gruesome sight before her, murmuring, "My father… my future husband… they were both killed by him..."
Hoffa shook her shoulders forcefully, shouting with a trembling voice, "Go to Durmstrang! Hurry! Senior! We must get to Durmstrang!"
"To… Durmstrang?"
Osiya's face was deathly pale as she asked.
"Snap out of it! Senior!! He's going to use the remnants of Salazar Slytherin's soul to break his own curse! If he succeeds—!"
At this point, Hoffa could no longer continue. He couldn't even fathom the consequences. Even now, he wasn't at his full strength. If he were whole—if he were the Hoffa Bach who had once defeated Death—he might have stood a chance.
But he wasn't. He was nothing more than a fractured spirit, a broken soul, a man who had completely lost the power of time.
And in his current state, if he allowed Sylby to break the curse, then everything he had fought for—Aglaia, this world, this timeline—would be doomed. Even worse, the nightmare he had once despised so much might once again descend upon reality.
Osiya realized the gravity of the situation. She shuddered, biting down on her lip before gently caressing Vladimir's face and closing his eyes. Then, without hesitation, she strode out of the room.
On the deck, she raised her wand high and slashed it down fiercely.
All the sails on the black ship's mast instantly unfurled.
The Durmstrang black ship suddenly accelerated through the sea, shifting its course and charging forward across the water.
Then, a piercing bell rang across every corner of the deck. The Durmstrang wizards, who had been preparing to sleep, immediately sprang up, gathering swiftly on the deck.
In no time, the deck was packed with people.
"Students! Comrades! Everything we have prepared for these past years has led to this moment!"
Standing at the bow, Osiya commanded the Durmstrang wizards:
"Our enemy in the shadows! The dragon in the storm! He has entered the trap's hunting range! This mission concerns the survival of the entire wizarding world! It will decide the very nature of our future!
In these dark waters, in the freezing North, death could come for us at any moment! And even if we die, our names will be forgotten! Our deeds will go unremembered!
But I believe that all of you, having awakened from the dream, now understand the significance of this awakening! Magic is the foundation of our existence! We cannot allow it to be stolen from us! We cannot let this precious gift become worthless, discarded like meaningless trash! If that happens, then there will be no true wizards left in the world!
If that happens, no one in the future will long for this land! No one will yearn for its magic! No one will dream of its wonders! If that happens, this land will be reduced to nothing but cold numbers! It will be filled with nothing but self-pitying, selfish fools!"
Under the shimmering aurora, amidst the crashing waves, the black ship roared out of the freezing Black Sea, charging across the water with relentless speed, accompanied by the biting cold wind.
Hoffa watched as Osiya stood at the bow, her hair whipping wildly in the fierce wind. Hearing her battle cry, so reminiscent of a Valkyrie, he felt his heart tremble.
She raised her voice against the raging wind, calling out,
"The world needs silent guardians! This is an eternal cause, one worth sacrificing everything for! Wolves of the North! Are you ready?!"
Whoosh!
With a swift motion, the Durmstrang wizards drew their wands in unison, flicking them downward—expressing their stance through action.
Seeing them, Hoffa slowly reached for the greatsword on his back, silently preparing himself.
At an incredible speed, the black ship arrived at the entrance of Durmstrang's old school grounds.
Osiya led a large group of wizards off the ship, marching in a swift and orderly formation toward Durmstrang's gates.
At that moment, the massive iron gate embedded in the mountains had already been opened—someone had entered the domain of the living.
Hoffa quickened his pace.
But just as they reached Durmstrang's entrance—
An invisible barrier suddenly appeared, blocking their way. Though the barrier was transparent and thin, it was completely impenetrable.
There had been no such barrier here before.
Noticing it, the Durmstrang wizards tensed up, immediately drawing their wands.
Hoffa, sword in hand, sensed something. He instinctively took two steps back and looked up.
A witch with short chestnut hair was slowly descending from the sky.
She stood alone before the barrier, facing hundreds of Durmstrang wizards cloaked in thick robes.
Seeing a stranger appear, the Durmstrang wizards raised their wands, shouting loudly in Russian.
However, the witch paid no heed to the wands pointed at her. She simply lifted her palm and spoke softly,
"Everyone else may pass—Hoffa Bach, you stay."
(End of Chapter)
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