Elrond immediately stepped forward to Smaug's side, carefully examining the wound before turning his gaze to the black spear that had been violently torn from the dragon's chest. The moment he sensed the dark aura lingering upon it, his brow furrowed deeply.
He turned to Sylas and said without hesitation,
"May I have some leaves from the White Tree?"
Sylas raised his hand toward the towering White Tree growing in the castle garden. A gentle wind swept through its branches, carrying more than a dozen leaves, emerald green on the front, silver-white on the back, into his palm. He handed them to Elrond.
Elrond cupped the leaves in his hand and softly chanted ancient Elvish incantations. Rings of light shimmered between his fingers as he pressed the leaves against Smaug's wound. A pure, sacred glow spread outward, and wisps of black, malevolent energy were drawn from the dragon's flesh like smoke.
Smaug's agonized expression gradually eased. The dark power that had been eroding his body, the corruption of Sauron was steadily purified.
After a long moment, Elrond withdrew his hand and exhaled slowly.
"The corruption has been removed," he said. "Now ordinary healing potions will work. However, his life force has been severely drained, and he has lost a great deal of blood. He must rest. He cannot fight again for the time being."
Hearing this, Sylas finally released the breath he had been holding.
"That is more than enough," he said gratefully. "Thank you, Lord Elrond."
Sauron's power, after all, was not merely destructive, it was corruptive. Physical wounds could be healed, but the erosion of spirit and will was far more dangerous. Sylas's potions were capable of restoring even fatal injuries, yet they were limited when it came to the Ring's corruption.
Fortunately, Elrond, greatest healer of Middle-earth, had arrived in time.
Without hesitation, Sylas produced a small crystal vial containing Phoenix Tears and poured it directly into Smaug's wound. The luminous liquid spread instantly, sealing flesh and bone alike. Within moments, the injury vanished completely, leaving only the shattered scale where Sauron's spear had struck.
"That can be replaced later," Sylas muttered.
Using refined mithril and alchemical silver, he fashioned a scale-shaped defensive plate and embedded it seamlessly into the gap. Its protection exceeded even Smaug's original scales.
Smaug flexed his wings and stared down at his chest in disbelief.
"Master… I'm healed?" he asked, astonished.
"You are," Sylas replied, patting the dragon's armored side. "But you are not ready for battle."
Smaug nodded solemnly.
"I will remain here and guard the castle. I will not allow a single enemy to harm the students."
"That is enough," Sylas said.
Time was running out.
Sauron and his armies were approaching.
Sylas raised his wand and cast a brilliant golden spell into the sky. It detonated among the clouds, forming a colossal phoenix of flame and light that circled above Hogwarts, its cry echoing across the land.
Moments later, space cracked again and again as wizards began to appear outside the castle, Aurors, independent sorcerers, hedge mages, and magical families from every corner of the territory.
Within minutes, nearly ten thousand wizards stood assembled before the gates.
Sylas stepped forward.
His voice was calm, but it carried across the field.
"Wizards of Hogwarts and the Free Lands," he said, "the Dark Lord of Mordor is coming. Sauron himself marches toward our home."
A murmur rippled through the crowd.
"We will not flee," Sylas continued. "Raise your wands. Use every spell you have learned. Protect your families, your friends, and this land."
His eyes burned with resolve.
"Today, we do not fight for glory. We fight so that our children may live without fear."
Following Sylas's resounding words of encouragement, the assembled wizards erupted with boundless fighting spirit. In the hearts of every wizard within the territory, Sylas held unparalleled prestige and authority.
Sharing the same faith, they were bound together as one. To them, Sylas was not merely a leader, but a symbol, almost godlike in presence. Now, hearing that enemies were about to invade their homeland, even knowing that the Dark Lord Sauron himself was coming, they felt no fear. Even if the foe were invincible, they would still fight to the death to defend their land.
"Go, my people!" Sylas commanded. "For our homeland, for our loved ones, raise your wands and destroy every invader!"
At his words, the wizards vanished in flashes of light, rushing directly toward the battlefield. In an instant, the nearly ten thousand gathered outside the fortress had completely disappeared, leaving only Sylas, Gandalf, Elrond, Galadriel, Glorfindel, the Guardians of the Realm, and the professors behind.
Sylas's stirring speech had not only ignited the battle spirit of the wizards, it had inspired everyone present.
Elrond looked at Sylas with genuine admiration and said quietly, "Sylas is an exceptional leader. His people trust him with absolute faith."
"If he had not borne such conviction," Elrond added thoughtfully, "history might have unfolded very differently."
Gandalf, Galadriel, and Glorfindel all nodded in agreement.
"Good," Sylas said, turning to them. "Then we should also head to the battlefield. We must not keep Sauron waiting. Since he has already entered Eriador, let him remain here forever."
Gandalf, Elrond, Galadriel, and Glorfindel all nodded solemnly. Their mission was clear: to draw Sauron into battle, prevent his return to Mordor, and buy Frodo and his companions the time they desperately needed. For the sake of lasting peace, they were prepared to give everything.
Bilbo, Merry, Pippin, and Boromir, also stepped forward, asking to fight alongside them. However, Sylas and the others refused Bilbo, Merry, and Pippin. Only Boromir was allowed to join.
The reason was simple: the weakest participants in this battle were still trained wand-wielding wizards. Hobbits, brave as they were, would be exposed to lethal danger. More importantly, Bilbo was still needed to maintain his disguise as Frodo, remaining within the castle to continue drawing Sauron's attention.
Moments later, Sylas and his companions activated the Portkey.
In a flash, they appeared on the plains northeast of Weathertop Peak.
Nearly ten thousand wizards were already assembled there under the command of the Ministry of Magic. A narrow river running west to east formed a natural boundary, beyond which dark clouds rolled relentlessly southward.
The clouds were black as ink, churning like a living curtain of shadow. They blotted out the sky and carried a suffocating pressure, as though something monstrous lurked within, something eager to devour all in its path.
Using the river as a dividing line, the wizards raised their staffs and began casting protective spells together. One by one, more sorcerers joined in, channeling their power into the barrier.
As the strength of nearly ten thousand wizards merged, the magical shield expanded rapidly, growing denser and brighter until it formed an immense, continuous wall of light.
The barrier stretched for tens of kilometers, rising straight into the sky, vast, radiant, and awe-inspiring. It stood like a towering curtain of light separating darkness from hope, visible even from far across the plains.
...
You can support me and read chapters ahead @Keepsmiling 818 p@reon