Meanwhile, elsewhere.
Avada controlled Nathan Clarke's body as he waved his wand, carefully carving something onto a thick, pitch-black wooden board. Streams of light poured down onto its surface, etching patterns as dazzling and complex as a labyrinth—so intricate that a single glance could make one's head spin.
Not far from the half-finished board sat a glass vessel. Inside was what looked like blood. Two probes were inserted into it, their tips linked by wires to an even more complicated device…
"That should do it."
A moment later, as the last two lines of the pattern collided, the entire wooden board flared with light for an instant. Then the brilliance gradually faded, as though it had been gathered back into the etched lines.
Avada habitually rubbed his wrist and turned to Damocles Belby. Several student assistants were standing behind him.
"How did the sweep go?"
"Nothing left that could cause interference."
Belby nodded, but his gaze was still locked on the cup of blood. "Begin."
"Alright."
With Belby's confirmation, Avada picked up the newly completed board and walked straight to the far end of the laboratory, putting more than ten meters between himself and the workbench.
"Watch carefully."
Then he drew his wand and tapped the board lightly.
A strange shimmer of flowing light answered him.
As that shimmer lit up, the cup of blood that had been sitting quietly suddenly began to tremble—like it was about to boil. Its color gradually deepened, turning darker and more ominous.
At the same time, the connected instrument erupted with a blinding red light.
"It worked!!"
Avada threw his arm down hard, as if he wanted to smash the air itself. Belby literally jumped in place, nearly flipping the workbench over.
No one was going to blame him for being reckless. Cheers burst out behind them—mixed with several distinct howls.
"Incredible, Professor Clarke!"
Belby shouted as he lifted the cup of blood, which now looked noticeably darker.
"It really worked! The werewolf curse in this sample has been completely activated! Your line of thinking was correct!"
"This is unbelievable—Merlin above, why didn't I think of something this simple?"
"Two-Way Mirrors… the key ingredient was actually the special silver powder used to make Two-Way Mirrors!"
"I should've realized it sooner. In the entire wizarding world, the only thing that can transmit information instantly without involving space magic is a Two-Way Mirror!"
"Merlin, I've even used one before…"
A few days earlier, Avada—who had been obsessively studying the victims of the werewolf attacks whenever he wasn't teaching—had finally synthesized, from countless possibilities, a material capable of producing the effect they were looking for.
It was a kind of special silver powder. Mixed into werewolf saliva and processed with several other steps, it could reproduce the function of remotely triggering the werewolf curse.
After comparing results and discussing it with Belby, Avada learned that what he had synthesized was none other than a primary material used to create an expensive magical item: the Two-Way Mirror.
Two-Way Mirrors were a pair of mirrors that allowed users to communicate instantly, ignoring distance. In terms of convenience, they far surpassed Floo calls and owls. However, because the required techniques were so complex and the barrier to production so high, they were rarely made—and therefore terrifyingly expensive.
Fortunately, the main material—the very special silver powder Avada had synthesized—was not particularly costly.
That was the only reason he'd been able to test his way into the correct formula in such a short time.
"Alright, Professor Belby. We can celebrate later."
Avada pressed his lips together, forcing a calm smile, though the joy in his eyes kept spilling out.
"Don't forget—now that we've confirmed this path, there's a more crucial experiment waiting for us."
"Oh—right!"
Belby slapped a student assistant on the shoulder.
"Hank, could you grab the vial of blood on my office desk? Quickly. I can't wait any longer…"
"Me too, Professor!"
The student replied brightly, then vanished in a blur. A short while later he charged back in through the door, a small glass vial of blood held steady in his hand.
"Is this the one?"
"That's it."
Belby checked the label and nodded. He took two brand-new probes from a drawer, inserted them into the vial, and connected the wires to the same instrument.
After one final inspection to confirm nothing was wrong, he turned toward Avada.
"Begin, Professor Clarke!"
This time Avada didn't say anything. He simply nodded and jabbed his wand against the wooden board.
The exact same changes appeared in the vial of blood—and in the connected instrument.
But this time, there was no cheering.
Instead, an oppressive silence filled the room.
"We… succeeded?"
Werewolf Montgomery parted his lips, his voice full of disbelief.
"We did…"
Belby couldn't help lifting the vial and examining it again, as if he didn't trust his own eyes.
"I didn't make a mistake. This really is the blood sample taken from a victim…"
"They're using Two-Way Mirror technology!"
"And it's the most primitive version—without even the most basic encryption!"
Avada couldn't help blurting it out, breaking the silence.
"Merlin above… they must have been so confident—confident to the point of believing that no one except them could ever crack their technique!"
"The surprising part is you, Professor Clarke."
The shock in Belby's eyes still hadn't fully faded.
"Even if someone thought of Two-Way Mirrors, it would be impossible for an ordinary person to figure out how to lock that property into a single function—'trigger the werewolf curse'—like this."
"And yet you managed to extract such critical information from those chaotic vitality and mental-energy charts…"
"You're a genius!"
"I understand now why Professor Baker praised you so highly. He didn't exaggerate at all!"
That praise made Avada feel faintly awkward.
The reason he had caught the key point so quickly was his magical perception.
If he had relied purely on analyzing vitality and mental-energy charts, he likely would've needed another two weeks—maybe even a month—before stumbling onto the same answer.
"But this means their threat is completely finished."
Avada finally couldn't hold back his grin.
"Since we've cracked the principle, countering it will be easy."
"I'll go find Professor Baker right now. We'll make an alchemical device that can block this kind of signal, distribute one to every victim, and then…"
"…we can deal with that pack of werewolves without any restraints."
(End of Chapter)