"So, the self-proclaimed righteous Aurors have finally arrived?" Thomas leisurely spoke, "Should I drop this Magic Wand and beg for your forgiveness, Mr. Aurors?"
"We'll let you die swiftly, sir," said the leading Auror, "For someone who's committed countless crimes, this is the greatest mercy!"
Magic Wand?
Auror?
What is all this?
As Muggle teenagers not versed in magic and unaware of the existence of the Wizard World, they looked at each other, unsure of what sort of charades were being played.
"I hope your mouths are as strong as your skills."
With that, Thomas snapped his fingers.
Suddenly a gale struck the leading Auror, pushing him backward.
However, those around didn't feel even a wisp of wind; to them, the Auror merely seemed to be grimacing as if enduring the assault of a hurricane.
Great acting, they thought.
After all, these were battle-hardened Aurors, coupled with Free America being a land of daily gunfights, their skills allowed them to quickly use Magic Spells in retaliation.
But in front of Thomas, these Aurors were nothing.
Scarlet light shot from the Aurors' Magic Wands, striking the invisible Shield surrounding Thomas, rippling away.
"Cool!" the students around shouted, "What's this? So cool! Is it the latest technology product?"
They might be alert to gunfights, but ordinary Muggles had never seen magic and were completely unaware of the ensuing danger.
Thomas remained unfazed, not speaking. He effortlessly deflected the Aurors' spells with an invisible barrier, rebounding them onto the spectators.
Some were enchanted and fell asleep without a sound; others suddenly found the goblets in their hands flying away; and some seemed to be hit head-on by a speeding truck, flying off into the distance.
By now, the students in the hall realized something was amiss, scattered, and shouted as they tried to flee, only to find themselves unable to leave the hall.
"Thomas..." Tiffany looked at Thomas in fear, unsure of his identity, yet instinctively knowing he must be a legendary terrorist, even more fearsome than Otto Skorzeny.
Of course, she'd learned that name only yesterday in history class.
Without answering her, Thomas reached out, twisting his hand and sending the colorful spells fired towards him back to the Aurors attacking.
The Aurors were highly skilled; they blocked their own spells and had enough ability to counterattack.
Thomas flicked his Magic Wand, pointing at the group of Aurors.
"Expelliarmus!"
The Magic Wands of the closest Aurors flew out, spinning behind Thomas.
This wasn't a Lightning Chain of Expelliarmus, but a characteristic of the spell itself, able to disarm multiple targets if they were close enough.
"Avada Kedavra!"
Thomas's wand emitted a ghastly green light, making the entire hall appear as eerie as Hell.
One by one, spells shot out, mercilessly claiming the Aurors' lives.
Onlookers didn't know what the spell represented, but even the stupidest ones realized the situation was wrong.
Soon, only the last Auror remained, the one who had been singled out by the Gale Curse.
Thomas walked up to him, removed his white mask, revealing a handsome face.
Before he could speak, there was a bang.
A rippling wave appeared before him, a bullet caught in the midst.
Thomas turned to see a young man wielding dual guns at him, yet looking terrified.
"Sorry, I didn't mean..."
Before he could finish, Thomas flicked his fingers, and a deep gash appeared on the young man's neck.
A red fountain gushed from the wound, the man knelt, clutching his neck, unable to stem the flow.
The hall erupted in high-pitched screams.
Thomas remained unmoved, taking up his Magic Wand, methodically claiming the lives of everyone left in the hall.
In the end, he spared the Auror singled out by the Gale Curse and Tiffany, who had invited him to the ball.
"No... don't kill me..."
Tiffany, already terrified, finally started to beg when Thomas approached her.
Thomas lowered his head, tenderly touching Tiffany's hair.
"I've always believed the best should be saved for last," he spoke softly.
"You... you..."
Tiffany didn't finish before she felt herself flipped over.
Then came the sound of fabric tearing, followed by intense pain on her back.
"Ah..."
She began to scream, but it did not elicit any sympathy from Thomas.
Thomas leisurely traced her back with his Magic Wand, seemingly in no rush to complete the design, savoring the torment he caused.
Meanwhile, he flicked his wand, a bowl appearing below the Auror's throat.
With a muffled groan, a gash appeared on the Auror's throat, crimson blood rushed out, flowing into the bowl.
Once the bowl was half-filled, Thomas beckoned, placing it at the center of the inverted pentagram design on Tiffany's back.
Simultaneously, the blood in the bowl began to boil.
"Speak to me—"
His hissing voice echoed.
"He, the youngest born!"
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