Chapter 409: What Do You Do When You Feel Like Coughing Blood???

Daiki was a dark wizard—or rather, that was what people called him.

Dark wizard? He had never accepted that label. His robe had merely turned white—so why did that make him "dark"?

He was nothing more than a castaway from the school known as Mahoutokoro School of Magic. And people like him made up nearly the entirety of their organization.

At first, he despised these so-called traitors. But when the last trace of color faded from his pink robe, panic surged through him—along with a sudden realization.

I’ve been framed!

I have to survive. I won’t be judged by some damned wizard law!

Driven by that thought, he revealed himself. Ignoring the students soaking in the hot springs, he charged straight through the changing room filled with endless screams. With magic, he knocked down several upperclassmen who had rushed to block the door. Before the professors could arrive to capture him, he managed to escape from the site of the school’s group activity.

Fortunately, that day’s event wasn’t held on campus—otherwise, he never would have gotten away.

But after that impulsive escape, reality hit him hard.

He was finished.

Naturally, he was wanted. The bounty on his head wasn’t high—too low to interest most bounty hunters—but it still meant one thing: he had been rejected by wizarding society.

And that meant losing everything—his job, his connections, his place in the world. For a wizard, that was a pain almost impossible to bear.

Unless he chose to live like a Muggle—completely abandoning magic—he could be discovered by the Ministry of Magic at any moment and thrown into prison. Worse still, during capture, an Auror might "accidentally" kill him with a spell—and in Japan, that would be perfectly legal under wizarding law.

Once, he had cheered when criminals met such fates.

Now, that thought no longer crossed his mind.

But for a wizard, fully integrating into Muggle life was unimaginable. Even Peter Pettigrew would rather live off scraps as a rat than abandon the wizarding world and blend in with the "barbaric" Muggles.

Luckily, Daiki had eventually been saved—rescued by the current leader of their organization.

Though he lost the freedom to move about as he pleased, he could still read the Daily Prophet, study magic books, and occasionally leave the base for a few days each month using Polyjuice Potion during group missions. Even under supervision, it was more than enough—especially compared to being hunted down with nowhere to hide.

According to their leader, these restrictions were necessary to keep the organization hidden. Though they had banded together for warmth, doing so also made them a far more valuable target for Aurors and bounty hunters alike. One careless move, and total annihilation would follow.

Daiki didn’t fully understand—but he didn’t care.

As long as he was fed, clothed, and allowed to spend his days crafting items and doing as he pleased within the base, he didn’t want to lose this life again.

As for the leader’s talk of taking revenge on that cursed school? That, he understood even less.

How could something as vast as that school—and the Ministry—be destroyed so easily?

Even so, his trust never wavered.

Just today, before heading out, the leader had entrusted him with guarding the base.

"Tony-kun, I leave the protection of our home to you this time! You must defend this final sanctuary of us falsely accused dark wizards!"

Yes—

This was their last home.

So even when Ken, their acting leader, broke from their usual rules—not erasing the memories of intruders but killing them instead—Daiki raised no objection.

After all, if this place fell, he would have nowhere left to go.

And as for dark magic—

He was already a dark wizard. Why should he care anymore?

When green light burst from his wand, he murmured inwardly:

Don’t blame me, children...

This is our last home.

If anything, blame yourselves for pushing us this far—refusing to leave us even a final place to hide.

Eight killing curses shot forth—Avada Kedavra.

Against two mere children, the best outcome would be intact corpses. The worst—nothing left at all.

But today, something went wrong.

The spells missed.

BOOM!

A crater exploded into the ground as their targets vanished in an instant, reappearing elsewhere. Speed, after all, was deeply tied to strength—especially when size posed no limitation.

Just as Allen prepared to act, the previously idle Tibbers suddenly rose to its feet. Flames erupted across its body as its size rapidly expanded. Before the remaining wizards could react, a blazing paw slammed down.

Even with defensive spells hastily cast, they were smashed into nothingness.

Literal nothingness.

Under Tibbers’ scorching flames, two pitch-black craters formed in the ground, and a cloud of white mist drifted upward.

Then came another sweeping strike—three wizards were sent flying, losing all signs of life midair.

What was going on? Were they this weak?

Allen could tell at a glance—the problem wasn’t that Tibbers was too strong.

They were simply too weak.

Like ordinary wizards who had never learned real combat. He was certain that even those eight killing curses, if they had struck him, would at most have given him a nosebleed.

Are villains really this easy to become these days? No certification required?

This was easier than bullying students at school. At least Slytherin ambushes didn’t waste time talking—they never gave their enemies time to prepare.

The only one with any real fighting ability was the one who had spoken first—and even then, he was merely the best among the worst. Just barely capable of holding off Tibbers for a few blows.

After barely snatching a kill for himself and securing his first victory, Allen called out:

"Tibbers, stop. Leave one alive!"

Two were left—perfect for cross-checking testimonies.

But just as Tibbers halted, one of the weaker wizards suddenly burst into laughter.

"Dream on! Yamagata-kun, don’t worry—I won’t hand our home over to people like them!"

As his voice fell, he died instantly.

Then—

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

A chain of explosions erupted.

The moment his life ended, the destruction magic sealing the base activated, blowing everything apart. It was something their leader had left behind—just in case someone tried to take their home.

And so—

Allen, quite naturally, coughed up blood.

Fixing his gaze on the last remaining wizard, he raised his wand and pointed it forward.

"Say something. If you’ve got nothing useful..."

"...then go meet Merlin."