Now that he knew even the smallest action he took could cause enormous ripples in the future, he had to restore everything to its original state as much as possible before leaving. Erasing the traces of his presence was a necessary part of that.
It was not fear, but a basic respect for causality, or rather, a rational way to avoid creating trouble for himself.
Sagres still preferred his former, more unruly way of doing things, but the information revealed by his future self, especially the warning that all accumulated changes would be settled at once when he left this era, had become like an invisible shackle, forcing him to deal carefully with the traces he had left behind.
He first returned to the Hogwarts Owlery.
This was where he had left his earliest marks, and several experimental engravings still remained on the floor and walls.
Sagres waved his wand, completely erasing the markings. He also pried the coin out from the crack in the wall, leaving no trace behind.
Next, he Apparated into the Forbidden Forest.
The former giant camp, which had once been struck by a meteor, was now nothing more than a massive charred crater like a scar in the earth, with fallen trees radiating outward around it.
Sagres stood at the edge of the crater and sighed.
This was all his doing.
But there was nothing else he could do now.
He raised his wand.
"Reparo!"
The earth seemed to groan beneath the force of the immense magic.
The surrounding soil and rocks began moving as though alive, converging towards the centre and filling the enormous crater.
The fallen trees rose under an invisible force, their broken roots sinking back into the soil, while the charred marks were rapidly covered by fresh moss and lichen.
Within moments, the devastation had disappeared.
In its place remained only a slightly fresh-looking clearing in the forest, with no obvious signs of artificial destruction.
Then he returned to the goblin stronghold he had visited earlier.
The place was now empty, but Sagres noticed a chaotic trail of hoofprints on the ground and several small arrow holes in the tents.
Following those traces, he silently moved deeper into the forest until he reached the outskirts of a hidden centaur settlement.
He did not approach.
Instead, he concealed himself within the shadow of an ancient tree and looked inside.
Near the entrance to the settlement, more than a dozen thick wooden stakes had been driven firmly into the ground.
Impaled upon the sharpened tops were more than a dozen goblin heads.
Their savage expressions were frozen in the terror and pain of death, while dried blood stained the wooden stakes dark brown.
Several centaur warriors stood silently around them, carrying out what appeared to be some kind of ritual of vengeance.
Sagres quietly counted the heads.
The number matched perfectly with the goblins who had previously occupied the stronghold.
It seemed those troublesome goblins had already been completely dealt with by the local inhabitants.
Sagres did not linger.
He Apparated again, this time to the gloomy underground crypt near Little Hangleton.
The stone coffin still rested there in silence, but the monster's corpse that should have been inside had long since been burned to ashes by him.
He could not leave the coffin empty.
That would not match history.
Sagres tapped the stone coffin with his wand.
"Geminio!"
Then he pointed his wand at the duplicated coffin.
"Transfigure!"
The duplicate rapidly changed beneath a faint glow, eventually taking on the exact appearance of the monster's corpse from Sagres's memory.
Even the wounds and signs of decay were reproduced with remarkable realism.
He carefully placed the forgery inside the original stone coffin and finally closed the lid.
After finishing everything, Sagres stood at the entrance of the crypt and looked back upon this turbulent era.
This was all he could do.
Those he had already killed could not be brought back, and those he had already saved could hardly be hunted down and killed simply to restore history.
Acting recklessly before had certainly been satisfying, but the appearance of his future self had undoubtedly served as a heavy warning.
"When it's time to be cautious, you have to be cautious," he muttered to himself, his voice carrying a faint trace of helpless self-mockery.
After confirming that the main traces he had left in this era had been erased as thoroughly as possible, Sagres turned his attention to another matter: the School of Withering member named Noctis.
He needed to see him in person.
Without hesitation, Sagres activated Apparition again, feeling space squeeze and pull around him.
After several consecutive jumps, he reached his destination:
Brundale.
It was a wizarding village in the cold north, bordering Durmstrang Institute.
The layout of the village was somewhat similar to Hogsmeade, which Sagres knew well. Wooden and stone buildings clustered together, with a few wizards scattered along the streets.
But the atmosphere was completely different.
Hogsmeade had a relaxed liveliness to it, while here, the air seemed coated in an invisible layer of frost.
Most of the passing wizards moved hurriedly, their expressions wary and solemn. They spoke in lowered voices, and their eyes occasionally drifted towards the dense pine forests and snow-covered land beyond the village.
As far as Sagres knew, this village no longer existed on maps in later generations, leaving behind only forgotten ruins.
Seeing it now only made the sense of an approaching storm feel even stronger.
Sagres casually chose a sturdy-looking inn and stepped inside.
The interior was dimly lit. The fire in the hearth burned weakly, and the few guests present sat silently in the corners.
The air smelled of cheap tobacco and alcohol.
Sagres checked in, and during a brief exchange with the innkeeper about the room rate and the availability of hot water, their eyes met for a moment.
Silent Legilimency instantly slipped into the innkeeper's mind, which was filled with anxiety and panic.
Fragments of information, like shards of a broken mirror, quickly came together in Sagres's mind.
Something had happened at Durmstrang.
A student had been arrested after attacking a Church cleric. Under brutal interrogation, the student had failed to keep the secret and revealed the general location of the school.
Soon afterwards, the Church assembled a massive force.
It included heavily armed Purifying Fire Knights, fanatics from the Holy Hunt, and large numbers of local peasants who had either been deceived or bribed into joining them.
Together, they formed a terrifying Witch Hunting Squad.
Like a white plague, the force surrounded the area from every direction.
The chaos had also attracted another kind of vulture: Dark Wizards of every sort.
They hid throughout the village and the surrounding forests, their greedy eyes fixed on any students who might escape Durmstrang's protection.
Most claimed that they were merely "taking apprentices", but in reality, they were looking for servants who would be easy to control, or even "materials" for certain dark rituals.
Under this pressure, Durmstrang had already paid a bloody price.
Two professors who had gone out on patrol had met with misfortune and were believed to have been ambushed and killed by Dark Wizards.
In response, Durmstrang had fully activated its magical barrier, surrounding the entire school with an invisible shield and entering a complete lockdown.
Sagres withdrew from the innkeeper's mind, now understanding the situation.
He paid for the room, took the rough wooden key, and headed towards the narrow, cold guest room.
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