Forbidden Forest.
Just after Ian and Aurora were taken away by the House-Elf Rabi.
Within just a few minutes, a sudden and forceful sound of hoofbeats could be heard, as a robust Centaur Leader led seven or eight centaurs to the site of the incident, which was now deserted.
The air still faintly carried the scent of mingled magic and blood.
All the centaurs were in battle-ready state.
Clearly, the warning from the House-Elf Rabi to leave quickly was not meant to frighten the Little Wizard; the centaur tribe in the Forbidden Forest nearly considered the forest as their territory.
This group, with their half-human, half-horse appearance—human upper bodies and horse lower bodies—was classified by the Ministry of Magic as Level XXXX Fantastic Beasts.
With strong bodies, agile skills, excellent magic resistance, and magic, combined with their tribal lifestyle, few wizards could handle such a group alone.
"The commotion just now came from here; human wizards and some creature were engaged in a violent battle," one of the centaurs stepped forward from the group to investigate.
Although possessing intelligence no different from humans, centaurs still considered themselves part of the "beast" category because they did not wish to share human status with creatures like Harpies and Vampires.
"I saw evil Dark Arts... Fiery Fire... and a bright flash of light."
The centaur, who stepped out, squatted down at the site where the Curled Wing Demon had met a gruesome end, examining the pile of ashes left by Aurora's Fiery Fire after the demon was dismembered into eight pieces.
These special creatures have abilities beyond the understanding of some human wizards.
For example, centaurs have a strong gift for Divination and often make vague predictions about the future. They use a method different from humans, predicting the future by observing stars and interpreting natural phenomena.
"Human wizards are always so despicable! Intruding into our territory without permission! Using evil Dark Arts to slaughter beasts in the Forbidden Forest! We should declare war on the humans in that castle!"
An indignant, radical centaur shouted loudly within the ranks, attempting to drag the entire tribe into conflict. However, fortunately, the leader of this group was not the impulsive type to act without thinking.
"Aoba, we had an agreement with the ancestors of those humans," the centaur leader glanced back at the young tribesman, and the disgruntled centaur immediately lowered his head.
"I don't think it's wise to have a conflict with human wizards, especially at such a sensitive time." The centaur who examined the ashes returned to his tribe.
The soil created by the Bone Crushing and Ash Scattering Box went unnoticed by the centaurs, its hoof leaving a shallow but clear imprint upon it.
"Just wait for the old man in that castle to die; the power of the human wizards won't be as strong as it once was." The young centaur known as Aoba was evidently very radical in thought, showing a desire for war and a strong territorial claim over the Forbidden Forest.
"We are so few in number? Give up your delusions... that's the only way you'll live longer." The tribe leader warned the young centaur Aoba with a frown.
"I understand."
The centaur Aoba dared not defy the leader's reprimand.
Perhaps to prevent his tribe members from harboring thoughts they shouldn't, the tribe leader looked to the sky and issued an unquestionable order in a stern voice.
"We must remain cautious and keep a low profile! Think about it, the celestial signs of the past have been ground to dust, what kind of change can prevail over such impending doom?"
The centaur leader's voice was filled with complexity and mystery.
"It's just a legend! Maybe it was our ancestors scaring us!" Centaur Aoba seemed aware of what the leader was about to say, but his willingness to comply did not surpass his reluctance to believe.
"Why would our ancestors deceive us? You wretched fool, don't talk nonsense!" The other centaurs looked at the young tribesman with angry eyes.
"Whether or not you choose to believe the ancestors, we can all see it—the seven stars in the prophecy have lit up. This is an unprecedented transformation; surely no one wants our race to vanish from history or become like those Little Elves," the centaur leader's very low voice sparked a sense of urgent alertness in all the centaurs!
They all instinctively looked up at the night sky, where stars shone like pearls embedded in the deep blue firmament, twinkling with distant, ancient light.
In that vast star sea, seven particularly bright stars were slowly rising.
The stars arranged themselves into an unspeakable pattern, akin to the objectification of some ancient prophecy—this was a celestial sign that only the centaurs could interpret from their ancient memory.
"The seven angels will blow the trumpet for their master, suffering and separation will dissolve in the light of hope... it's universal support, it's unstoppable."
The centaur's eyes reflected the starry sky as it gazed upward. Perhaps they alone could see the shining colors intermittently flickering among the seven stars encircling each other.
No matter how exceptional their prophetic ability may be.
It obviously doesn't affect each centaur's recollection of some information found in their bloodline; the centaurs' prophecies are sometimes far more special than those of human wizards.