bdsm-fiction Chapter 159 The Parade Escalates
Chapter 159 The Parade Escalates
Chapter 159 The Parade Escalates
"Ryan just contacted you, saying that the situation has escalated to a certain point, with person-to-person transmission continuing to occur within the protest marches..."
The pent-up negative emotions needed to be released. "This person seemed worried, but also kept his voice low, considering that this was a bookstore."
The bookstore staff, who were watching the drama unfold from the entrance, were not alerted.
"Look at this, a powerful disintegration spell. The origin of this spell can be traced back to the ancient Runeven period." Larvin replied to his friend's message, pointing to the spell in the book.
This spell was written on five whole pages in the book. Apart from the name, spell name, and hand gestures, the rest were all examples left by predecessors when they wrote the book. There were correct examples and negative examples.
These words can leave even the most dedicated wizards, after a period of focused study, feeling mentally exhausted, with dry eyes and a throbbing head.
Because deciphering runes is too troublesome, and it's as if some kind of ghost is sealed inside the book, the words on the page seem to faintly make sounds while you're reading it.
"The Powerful Splitting Charm, known in ancient times as the Ancient Scar." Both were outstanding graduates of Hogwarts, and the other person naturally knew about the Powerful Splitting Charm, having learned it on his own out of curiosity.
As he spoke, he sighed, "Sigh, it's been a long time since I've read a book—it feels like I've been cut off from books ever since I left school."
Thinking back to my school days, I was an excellent student who frequented the library every few days, but in the years since leaving school, I haven't bought a book from a bookstore—
For a moment, both of them felt the fleeting nature of time and the relentless passage of years.
"Wait, wait. You still haven't said what to do? Stop sighing and complaining! Where's your trigger point for an emotional outburst?"
Larvin ignored him. After a while, he glanced at the time displayed on his communicator, put the book back in its place, and straightened his wizard's robes. "Now that the situation and atmosphere have reached this point, the accumulated emotions can't be contained. Naturally, we need to go along with the ideas of the marching wizards."
He walked towards the door, his fighting spirit surprisingly high, as if he were heading towards an imminent victory: "Let's go, it's time to get back to the Ministry of Magic."
"Madman!" Behind him, after a moment's hesitation, footsteps followed Larvin toward the door.
The shop assistants at the entrance instinctively made way for them, watching them leave the bookstore.
Larvin weaved through the crowd of people in the parade, and when he encountered the Aurors from the Ministry of Magic's Auror Office, he casually put his wand back in his pocket and then greeted his colleagues.
"Director Larvin, aren't you at work today?"
"I have some business to attend to, I'm heading back to the Ministry of Magic now."
"Minister Larvin, please be careful, there are too many people."
After the Aurors of the Ministry of Magic saw off their youngest deputy director, they suddenly noticed that the slogans among the marchers were becoming more radical and the atmosphere more heated.
Some people have already shouted the slogan, "Attack the Ministry of Magic and capture Cornelius alive!"
"You can't just say things like that! Do you all understand?!" The Aurors immediately began to maintain order verbally, but only verbally.
But such words are like adding fuel to the fire, just like throwing a punch at a knife-wielding thug, which only makes the thug even more hot-blooded and aggressive.
Faced with the Aurors' weak verbal enforcement, the marching wizards became even more energetic.
"Walk!"
"To the Ministry of Magic!"
"Go ask Fudge! What do those ministerial orders mean!"
A newly initiated Auror asked fearfully, "The marching wizards are heading to the Ministry of Magic, are we really going to ignore them?"
The seasoned veteran just watched with amusement: "How could that be? For us, maybe our own distant relatives are in the parade. And for the wizards in the parade, their relatives and friends are also at the Ministry of Magic. How could they possibly end up fighting at their doorstep?"
"So their slogan—"
"That was just something that came out of the mouth because the atmosphere and emotions were right. Don't worry about it." The old hand was full of confidence.
The young man nodded, seemingly understanding, then poked the seasoned veteran with his finger and pointed at the witch who had suddenly appeared in Diagon Alley, gesturing wildly: "Shouldn't we just leave this alone?"
The seasoned veteran was about to say that the kid was naive and hadn't been on many missions, so he was making a fuss, when he heard a voice amplified by a spell, speaking in a coquettish tone, slowly and deliberately proclaiming the supremacy of the Ministry of Magic.
Who's the idiot who's stirring things up?!
He looked toward the source of the sound and saw that the newly promoted Deputy Minister of Magic, Ms. Umbridge, was blocking the way of the parade and, with an air of fearlessness, began to point fingers and gesticulate at the procession.
"Let's take care of it—" The young people, having just entered society, still possess a certain sense of responsibility and feel that this is their duty to do so.
"Never mind that, mind your own business. Tell our people to be careful about their personal safety." The old fox seemed to foresee a great terror descending and a bloodbath about to break out. He grabbed the young man's wizard robe and warned him not to show off or act like a hero at this time. Taking care of himself was the most important thing.
The two were pulling at each other.
Umbridge delivered what she considered the decisive blow: "Minister Fudge has begun to clean up the newspaper industry, and the dissenting Xenophilius Lovegood has been imprisoned in Azkaban! Now only his child is at home!"
"You all have families, children, and vulnerabilities! Remember, the minister has the authority to issue ministerial orders!"
The last straw can break a person's back, and the last snowflake can cause an avalanche.
The definition of the final portion is vague for many people, and the minimum acceptable value for the population will be taken.
Because if just one person gets carried away by their passion and acts recklessly, they will influence everyone else.
Just like now, the marching crowd, whose atmosphere had been heated up by magic and some guidance, was completely ignited by the final spark given by Umbridge.
"That old woman! She said she's going to take us to Azkaban!"
"And we want our children to become orphans who no one cares about!"
"They seize power and manipulate the people!"
The cacophony of voices made Umbridge take two steps back; she felt a little flustered, simply because it was so noisy.
But she was confident she could control the situation, because she was the Deputy Minister of Magic.
Before she could even compose herself and threaten the "mob" in the march, she heard someone shout something.
Gradually, the slogans for registration went from being a jumbled mess to being neat and uniform.
"We demand an explanation!"
"We demand an explanation!"
"We demand an explanation!"
In the last second before losing consciousness, Umbridge saw countless beams of light flying towards him.