Macnair's words were cut short.
Sagres's Legilimency instantly locked onto him.
A subtle thread of magic, like the tentacles of an octopus, quietly slipped into the unguarded depths of Macnair's consciousness.
Macnair felt an intense wave of disorientation, and countless images surged forth uncontrollably, as clear as if they were replaying before his eyes:
How he infiltrated the detention area. How he used that heavy great axe to break the chains. How he dragged the limp Peter into a storage room thick with the smell of blood and preservatives. And how he used violence and fear to force Peter to speak—"Albania! Black Forest!"
All the bloody details were laid bare without reservation.
Sagres calmly withdrew his gaze, as if he had merely flipped through a dirty and boring vulgar magazine.
But Macnair felt as if he had been drenched head to toe in molten lava.
The lingering pain in his brain and the shame of having his mind forcibly pried open instantly ignited all his brutality and fear.
Like a cornered, wounded beast, he abruptly staggered backward, crashing into a tool rack with a loud clang.
His rigid, numb face twisted completely, turning a horrifying purplish red, the veins on his forehead bulging and writhing like earthworms.
"No—!"
Macnair let out a bestial howl.
"You… you mind-probing bastard! Demon!"
Macnair shrieked, spittle flying, his voice distorted with rage. "Who gave you the right? How dare you?!"
He waved his stained hand, trembling as he pointed at Sagres, as if trying to pierce him with his fingertip.
Sagres merely gazed back at him calmly. The indifference in his eyes drove Macnair madder than any verbal taunt.
"How dare I?"
Sagres finally spoke. His voice was not loud, yet it clearly overrode Macnair's roar. "Because you were once a Death Eater."
His gaze swept over the gleaming execution axe, then returned to Macnair's face. "What? When the Ministry of Magic purged the remaining Death Eaters, you slipped through the cracks, hid for over a decade, and now, smelling a hint of rot, you think the coast is clear and you're eager to crawl back and lick your old master's robes again?"
"Shut up!" Macnair's deepest pain and ambition had been struck, so he abandoned all pretense of argument. "What do you know? The Master's power is something an ant like you could never hope to achieve! His trust in me—"
"Trust?"
Sagres looked at him, undisguised contempt in his tone. "Spare me. You're just a stray dog, used up and ready to be discarded at any moment."
"YOU!"
Macnair let out a wild, bestial howl. His hands suddenly seized the heavy execution axe from the stand, unleashing astonishing strength.
Instead of charging Sagres, he hurled the terrifying great axe—half a man's height—straight at him like a shot put.
The axe blade tore through the air, screaming toward its target.
At the same time, he drew his wand from his waist with lightning speed. Driven by instinct and bloodlust, the tip of his wand instantly erupted with the green light of death.
"Avada Kedavra!"
The terrifying momentum of the great axe tearing through the air and the chilling green flash of the Killing Curse instantly shattered the Ministry of Magic's holiday silence.
Boom—!
The great axe slammed violently into the stone wall behind where Sagres had been standing. The Ministry's hard stone split like tofu, shattered rock and dust flying everywhere, leaving a huge, gaping hole.
The deadly green light, even faster, shot with pinpoint accuracy toward Sagres's heart amid the roar of the axe striking the wall.
Macnair's face, illuminated by smoke and green light, was as hideous as a demon's. Within the confined space, killing intent surged like boiling lava.
The immense commotion was like a bomb dropped into the Ministry of Magic's deathly quiet holiday.
"What was that sound?!"
"Over at the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures!"
"Someone used the Killing Curse!"
"Quick! Alert!"
Confused footsteps and shouts echoed from all directions in the corridor, rapidly converging on their location.
However, just a second before the green light was about to touch Sagres's chest, he merely shifted his body slightly.
With that simple movement, the green light of death brushed the hem of his dark grey robes, shooting into the swirling smoke behind him and disappearing.
But Macnair seemed to have anticipated that the first strike would be difficult to land. The moment he hurled the great axe and cast the Killing Curse, he charged toward Sagres like a wild bull.
At the same time, he raised his wand high, its tip shimmering with the light of a curse.
"Densaugeo!"
Sagres flicked his wand, precisely deflecting the incoming spell, then casually pointed at Macnair, who had already rushed in front of him.
"Expulso."
A terrifying shockwave erupted instantly.
Macnair felt an indescribable force slam violently into his chest.
Boom!
He did not even have time to scream before he was hurled backward at even greater speed, as if struck head-on by a battering ram.
Blood mixed with fragments of internal organs sprayed from his mouth as Macnair smashed through the brick wall behind him, which was lined with torture implements.
The tool rack was reduced to splinters, and sharp hooks, saws, and scalpels clattered to the floor.
Macnair lay sprawled in the rubble like a heap of mud, his sternum visibly caved in. Blood rapidly spread across the ground beneath him and the scattered tools.
His eyes rolled back, and only a faint rasping breath remained in his throat.
By the time the first group of Aurors and Ministry officials, wands in hand, rushed to the entrance of the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures office, the battle was already over.
Sagres stood in the smoke-filled office, a gaping hole in the wall behind him, clearly cleaved by a great axe.
Not far in front of him, the Chief Executioner of the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures lay like a crushed lump of flesh, sprawled in the rubble and a pool of blood, with only the faint, dying twitches remaining.
Deathly silence enveloped everyone at the doorway, broken only by Macnair's rasping breaths.
The Aurors' hands, gripping their wands, trembled violently, and cold sweat soaked their backs.
Sagres paid no attention to the crowd gathered at the entrance.
His cold gaze fell upon the dying Macnair in the pool of blood, and then he casually waved his wand.
Whoosh—!
The heavy execution great axe instantly flew back from the breach, transforming into a cold flash of death as it descended with pinpoint accuracy toward Macnair's neck.
Pfft!
A head bearing an expression of horror and despair rolled to the ground, tumbling several times across the debris-strewn, blood-stained floor before finally coming to rest beside an Auror's shoe.
Those empty eyes stared blankly at everyone. The headless body convulsed violently twice before falling completely still.
The heavy axe blade was buried deep in the floor, the handle still trembling slightly.
Sagres slowly turned around, his calm gaze sweeping over the people at the doorway.
Wherever his eyes passed, everyone silently lowered their heads.
"The culprit who broke out the prisoner has been captured for you."
Sagres's voice broke the silence, cold and commanding. "Clean it up."
With that, he ignored the stunned crowd, calmly stepped through the axe-cleaved breach in the wall, and disappeared into the corridor's shadows.
Only a bloody mess, a headless corpse, a blood-stained great axe embedded in the floor, and a group of terrified Ministry officials and Aurors remained at the scene.
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