After leaving Dumbledore’s office, Linus Alvin stepped into the fireplace and vanished in a flash of emerald-green flame.
The next moment, he emerged inside a small cottage in Hogsmeade.
It was a secret dwelling he had purchased in the village—unremarkable on the outside, but fortified with complex protective enchantments within.
He did not return to his aunt’s house; that upright magical law enforcement officer was likely reading the *Daily Prophet* at this very moment, preparing to interrogate him in her dual capacity as aunt and official authority.
He knew all too well what tomorrow’s front page would read: “Legendary Genius Linus Alvin Returns to Hogwarts!” He sighed, shed his outer robes, and donned a hooded cloak.
As night fell, he turned into an afterimage, Apparating into thin air.
Hours later, he materialized in a remote valley.
A chilly wind whipped through damp fog, and wolf howls echoed in the distance.
Linus stood quietly in the dark, waiting.
Before long, ten dark silhouettes emerged one after another, surrounding him.
“So the rumors are true—you’re still alive,” one of them sneered, raising his wand.
Linus’s voice was flat.
“It seems Roberti still isn’t honest enough.” Before the words had even faded, he raised his wand.
An invisible blade sliced through the air, cleaving the nearest wizard in half on the spot.
A mist of blood rolled through the night sky.
It was an improved variant he had developed from Severus Snape’s *Sectumsempra* spell.
It was faster, and its trajectory was completely invisible.
The remaining nine backed away in terror, chanting in unison as nine spells surged toward him almost simultaneously.
Linus raised his left hand, summoning a translucent shield of magical energy.
Light collided with magic, sending sparks flying in every direction.
Several spells rebounded, striking back at their original casters.
They scrambled out of the way, breaking their formation.
Seizing the opening, Linus instantly transformed his body into a cloud of shadowy mist.
The next second, he reappeared behind two isolated wizards.
A crimson glow flared in his palm, taking the shape of a solid sword of flame.
It was a spell he had created, inspired by *Star Wars*, a film he had loved in his past life: The Lightsaber Spell.
*Sizzle—* The blade swept past, and two bodies collapsed to the ground, severe scorch marks sliced cleanly across their chests.
“Next,” he muttered softly.
A sudden flash of vivid green light cut through the gloom.
Someone had seized the split-second gap to cast the Killing Curse.
“Avada Kedavra!” Linus leaned aside slightly, allowing the jet of green light to graze his shoulder and shatter a boulder behind him.
With a flick of his hand, the ground beneath their feet instantly turned into sharp metal spikes that burst out from the soil.
The caster didn’t even have time to scream before being impaled like a sieve.
Four of the ten were now dead.
Terror flooded the eyes of the remaining wizards as their breathing grew ragged.
One tried to Apparate away, only to find his body yanked back by a strange, overwhelming force.
“Don’t waste your breath,” Linus said coldly.
“I’ve cast an Anti-Apparition ward here.
After studying Hogwarts for seven years, of course I learned how to do it.” They realized with mounting horror that there was nowhere left to run.
The five exchanged desperate glances, gritting their teeth as they raised their wands together— “Protego!” A colossal combined shield rose up, five strands of magical power intertwining into an impenetrable barrier.
Linus paused for a brief second and sighed softly.
“Pity.
You picked the wrong opponent.” He raised his wand, a brilliant light flashing at its tip.
“Bombarda Maxima.” A deafening roar erupted.
The entire valley was swallowed by blinding white light.
The air shook, dust violently surged, and rocks shattered into pieces.
When silence finally returned, only minced flesh and a mist of blood remained on the ground; the shield was long gone.
Linus lowered his wand, his gaze as calm as still water.
“Come out, Roberti.” From the shadows in the distance, a cloaked man emerged, his face stiff with tension.
“Mr.
Alvin, long time no see,” he forced out a strained smile.
“You sent them to test me?” Linus’s voice held no warmth.
Roberti smiled bitterly.
“Just taking precautions.
After all, you’ve been missing for two years.
I assumed something had happened to you.” Linus slowly raised his wand, his tone indifferent.
“Your explanation carries very little weight.” The man hurriedly reached out his hands.
“I’m willing to compensate you—double the materials, completely free of charge!” Linus narrowed his eyes, pondered for a moment, and nodded.
“Very well.” Roberti quietly breathed a sigh of relief, though cold sweat still drenched his back.
Those ten wizards under his command—every single one possessed Auror-level combat power—and now all of them had been wiped out within minutes.
That kind of strength had long surpassed the definition of a mere “genius.” Once he confirmed Linus’s agreement, Roberti flicked his wand, teleporting a group of chain-bound prisoners onto the ground.
Ten men, pale-faced, bore residual curse marks carved across their skin.
Linus approached and lightly tapped the forehead of one of the men with his fingertip.
“Revelio.” The man’s head began to contort, a half-human, half-wolf face surfacing before freezing mid-struggle.
Linus scanned the other nine and spoke faintly, “All werewolves.
Heavy crimes, blood-soaked hands.
Excellent materials.” “So…
we have a deal?” Roberti probed cautiously.
“Deal.” As soon as the words left his mouth, Linus raised a hand, dispelling the Anti-Apparition ward.
Roberti immediately Apparated away, leaving behind only a fading trace of his magical aura.
Linus stared in that direction, his expression cold.
“It seems it’s time to eliminate him.” He drew a bag from beneath his cloak and stowed all the werewolves inside.
The pouch had been enchanted with an Undetectable Extension Charm, capable of holding countless items.
Next, he dipped his wand into the opening of the pouch and whispered: “Accio, hair of Roberti.” A strand of black hair floated out of thin air and landed in his palm.
He began chanting a bizarre incantation, his movements flowing like a dance.
Then he produced a white powder and gave it a soft blow.
The powder settled onto the hair strand, and a shadowy form slowly crawled out like a living creature before vanishing into thin air.
This was a curse he had modified from Haitian Voodoo rituals.
He had once stumbled into that land during a cross-dimensional experimental accident and personally witnessed the terrifying power of spirit curses.
After that night, he had begun researching the structure of souls and curses.
Now, he had finally mastered the most primitive and ruthless method— Using bloodline as the conduit, and taking the heart as the sacrifice.
He muttered softly under his breath, “Tomorrow morning, you will be found with a face full of terror and an empty chest.” With that, he waved his wand and summoned potent acid.
The harsh stench of corrosion filled the air as the corpses and bloodstains rapidly dissolved, leaving behind no trace.
Afterward, he cast an Erasure Charm to ensure this valley could never be divined or reconstructed.
By the time everything was finished, the night had deepened.
Linus stood quietly in the mountain breeze, his black robes fluttering.
He looked into the distance, his eyes cold and sharp.
“The first step toward the Philosopher’s Stone is complete.”