The Headmaster's Office was utterly silent, with even the sound of breathing vanishing, leaving only Wayne's narration of his battle with Slytherin.
Words alone weren't enough - he extracted his memories, transforming them into mist to show everyone the scene from that time.
Everyone watched with rapt attention as the cataclysmic scene unfolded before them, remaining spellbound long after the images faded.
After an unknowable length of time, Dumbledore was the first to regain his composure, though his expression still carried profound shock.
"I never imagined the snakewood wand concealed such secrets. It must have been passed down through the inheritance you mentioned last time."
Wayne nodded. "That should be the case. I also discovered that Voldemort and Tom had some kind of agreement - likely that if Voldemort were defeated, he would offer all his flesh and blood to Tom to enhance his power."
"Though I severed that connection."
The Darkin Aatrox was most skilled in blood magic, his body composed entirely of flesh plundered piece by piece.
"Fortunately so." Snape let out a long sigh of relief. Had Tom acquired Voldemort's power, he would have become an even more terrifying Dark Lord.
"Are you concerned that Slytherin isn't dead?" Grindelwald quickly grasped Wayne's worry.
"Exactly." Wayne nodded. "Trelawney's prophecy referred to a true legend, but what I encountered clearly wasn't. The power he could wield was stronger than you two and Voldemort, but only marginally so."
"However, my concerns aren't limited to Slytherin alone, but also those vanished legendary Dark Wizards."
Both Grindelwald's and Dumbledore's mouths twitched simultaneously.
When had they been reduced to mere measurement points?
"But Trelawney's prophecies aren't necessarily accurate," Dumbledore said uncertainly. "Like Harry - while he played a crucial role, Voldemort ultimately died by your hand."
"Yet before that, Voldemort had already 'killed' Harry once," Wayne emphasised. "And you all heard Tom's final warning, didn't you?"
"There must be some unknown secrets within Slytherin's inheritance."
"I've never heard any information about Slytherin," spoke a Headmaster from nearly five to six hundred years ago, the first portrait hung on the wall. "In my time, people rarely mentioned the four founders, but I had descendants among my students who said Slytherin was already dead."
Then he grew uncertain himself. "No, that's not right. Slytherin had diverged from the Gaunt family very early. If they knew so much, why would they let the inheritance fall into outside hands?"
No one could make sense of it, all turning to look at Nicolas Flamel - he was the living fossil, from the same era as the Headmaster on the wall.
"Don't look at me," Nicolas smiled wryly. "Before developing the Philosopher's Stone, I was just an obscure alchemist who never concerned myself with these elusive legends."
"To be honest, I've probably visited fewer ruins than Albus has."
Wayne thought for a moment before asking, "Nicolas, in your time, how many top-tier wizards like Dumbledore were there?"
"Not many, but not that few either," Nicolas recalled those bygone years. "Roughly every century, several individuals far surpassing ordinary wizards would emerge, known as Archmages. But during that era of continuous warfare and plague outbreaks, many Archmages appeared abruptly and vanished just as mysteriously."
"Some died in battle, others fell to assassins' plots. Oh, I once knew a wizard who wielded the Elder Wand back then."
As he spoke, he glanced at Dumbledore. "But he died from his wife's betrayal - a simple bowl of poisoned oatmeal, that's all it took."
Dumbledore smiled faintly. "Fortunately, I never married."
"Whether the prophecy is true or false, there's little we can do about it now." Grindelwald unconsciously took out Slytherin's Locket to fiddle with. "Wayne, you can't search for them across the entire world, and even if you found them, it wouldn't necessarily be a good thing."
"Better to focus on improving our strength. With sufficient power, we need fear no danger."
"That makes sense." Wayne agreed. "I'm just reminding you all to stay vigilant in daily life and not become complacent."
Dumbledore chuckled while stroking his beard.
Though pleased to see the younger generation surpassing him, he couldn't help feeling some lingering reluctance. Recently, he had indeed returned to his youthful fervour for magic, but unlike before, Dumbledore understood that family mattered more than magic. He could balance his energies properly without causing harm to his brother and sister.
"Severus, I heard from Sirius that your bloodline fusion has succeeded. Keep it up, I have high hopes for you." Wayne suddenly addressed Snape.
Snape's face darkened. He detested Wayne speaking to him in that tone, but since reasoning went unheeded and fighting was impossible, he could only endure it.
After sharing the situation with everyone, the brief meeting essentially concluded.
Grindelwald deliberately kept Dumbledore behind until last. "Wayne, what exactly is a Legend?"
"I can't quite explain it clearly." Wayne stood up and opened the window, allowing warm sunlight to stream in. "I'll tell you when I've fully reached that realm myself, to avoid giving you misleading answers."
"You haven't reached it yet?" Grindelwald looked at him in surprise.
"Just a step away, almost there."
Sometimes what people call "just a step" can be a cosmic distance—visible yet unreachable. But for Wayne, when he said "just a step", it truly meant just that.
Especially after activating the World Ender state, which had allowed him to cleverly breach the Legend Domain and experience its mysteries in advance, his progress had accelerated significantly.
He estimated it would take about a month to cross that threshold completely.
In the afternoon, Nicolas bid farewell and left Hogwarts, returning home to continue preparations for the floating city. Perhaps having heard about Slytherin's news, he decided to temporarily set aside the foundation work and first create several magic crystal cannons for defence.
He wanted to test whether he could engrave Command Seals onto the magic crystal cannons. If successful, even a Legend hit by a blast would become a dead Legend.
After all, wizards' inherent traits were clear - those with strong magical power developed resistance to magical attacks, but they still remained within human limits.
After Nicolas left, Rita Skeeter, who had been waiting outside the room for a long time, entered with an ingratiating smile.
"Mr Lawrence, the editor-in-chief has asked me to conduct an exclusive interview with you. Would you..."
Rita Skeeter inquired cautiously, prepared to fabricate an interview herself if Wayne showed even slight impatience.
"Yes, I've received Editor-in-Chief Evans's letter." Wayne gestured for her to sit. "Let's make this quick. I have other matters to attend to."
Rita Skeeter took out her paper and quill to begin the interview. Had she been interviewing anyone else, she would have asked sensational questions, deliberately steering responses toward ambiguous headlines, with her quill recording content bearing little relation to the actual answers.
But before Wayne, Rita Skeeter used an ordinary quill, dutifully recording by hand.
The primary purpose of this interview was to confirm the news of Voldemort's death and provide the public with an official account, among other things.
Rita Skeeter wanted to ask about events after the live broadcast was cut, but seeing Wayne's slight frown, she wisely changed the subject.
The interview concluded in just fifteen minutes. Rita Skeeter returned to the newspaper office with her notes, made minor revisions, added the flattery she had prepared in advance, and quickly published the piece.
Countless owls filled the sky, delivering urgent editions of the Daily Prophet to every wizarding household.
With official confirmation and news brought home by young wizards on holiday, just like that night fourteen years ago, the entire wizarding community of Britain erupted in celebration.
They took to the streets in eccentric attire, unbothered by strange looks, their faces instead blooming with radiant smiles. By evening, magical fireworks fell like meteor showers across the sky, not only in London but also in Kent, Yorkshire, and elsewhere.
The commotion was so significant that Muggle television news programmes reported on it.
However, Crouch would not follow in former Minister Millicent Bagnold's footsteps by forgiving the overzealous wizards. He had already dispatched Aurors and Hit Wizards to record every offender—awaiting them would be fine after substantial fine.
...
Another day passed.
Wayne arrived in Russia.
This time, he didn't go to Koldovstoretz but headed straight to the Ministry of Magic.
He made no attempt to conceal his presence, striding in boldly and causing widespread panic.
The guards wanted to intervene but dared not make a move.
There was no doubt that Wayne Lawrence was now the world's most powerful wizard.
Many present had returned from Kostoris and knew that Tom Riddle was likely beyond help.
"Take me to Katerina," Wayne commanded, pointing at a vaguely familiar Auror.
"Lawrence, you..."
Before he could finish speaking, his eyes glazed over. "Please follow me."
"The Imperius Curse?!" The others were both shocked and enraged. This Lawrence showed them no respect, brazenly using an Unforgivable Curse.
Without even turning his head, Wayne warned, "Anyone who follows will witness this place bathed in blood."
His words alone made the group of burly men flush with anger, their feet rooted to the spot.
Following the controlled wizard, Wayne quickly barged into Katerina's office. Compared to two days ago, this formidable woman appeared to have aged ten years, her face utterly exhausted. Seeing Wayne enter, she showed no trace of fear or apprehension, instead displaying remarkable composure.
"You've come after all."
"Mm." Wayne dismissed the Auror and casually settled into a single armchair. "Just to inform you that Tom is dead, and to ask a few questions."
"Why do you think I would tell you anything?" Katerina retorted.
"You have the right to refuse, and I have the ability to destroy everything you've worked for. The choice is yours."
Katerina's previously upright posture instantly slumped.
"You're even more vicious than the Dark Lord."
"Thank you for the compliment, I'll keep striving to improve." Wayne waved a hand dismissively and leaned back comfortably. "Shall we proceed with the questions now?"
"What do you want to know?"
"Katerina, Dumbledore speaks very highly of you. He considers you a formidable woman, no less impressive than Madame Maxime."
"Tom shouldn't have easily swayed someone like you."
"So what was your real reason for continuing to firmly cooperate with him even after learning his true identity?"