Scrimgeour was left speechless after hearing Ivan's words.
"You mean to say that you're a British wizard?" Moody asked, trying to probe further.
Scrimgeour and Kingsley immediately caught on to Moody's line of thinking.
If Ivan claimed he could one day become the Minister of Magic in Britain, then his true identity must indeed be that of a British wizard, right?
"Yes, I am indeed a British wizard," Ivan confirmed, his tone calm.
Ivan was aware that Gringotts was still gathering reinforcements. He planned to deal with the last wave of hired wizards and crush any lingering hope the goblins might have of stopping him.
For now, though, he didn't mind using the time to engage with Moody, Scrimgeour, and Kingsley, airing his dissatisfaction with the state of the British wizarding system.
"A British wizard?" Scrimgeour echoed, clearly finding the claim difficult to believe.
Seeing Moody's hesitation, Ivan smirked.
"I don't know why you're so eager to associate me with Dumbledore," Ivan said, his voice laced with amusement. "But I can tell you very clearly—I am not Dumbledore."
Scrimgeour looked at Moody in surprise, his brow furrowing.
"You thought he was Dumbledore?" Scrimgeour asked incredulously, shaking his head. "Are you going senile, old friend?"
Scrimgeour couldn't fathom how Moody could confuse Ivan with Dumbledore. To him, Ivan was Ivan, and Dumbledore was Dumbledore—how could someone like Moody make such a mistake?
"You know nothing!" Moody snapped, unwilling to explain himself.
He simply stared at Ivan, trying to determine if he was lying.
One thing Moody was certain of—Ivan was not Dumbledore.
"If I were to become Minister of Magic in Britain," Ivan continued, "the first thing I would do is improve the strength of our wizards."
He gestured toward Dawlish and the other Aurors standing nearby.
"Look at them," Ivan said dismissively. "They're not even close to my level. With this level of skill, it's no wonder England is the weakest of all the magical ministries in the world."
"That's impossible!" Scrimgeour retorted quickly. "Even if there are differences between the magical ministries of various countries, the gap isn't that significant."
"Oh?" Ivan chuckled. "So everyone is just equally weak? No wonder you're content to remain stagnant."
The three Aurors fell silent. They wanted to argue that the British Ministry of Magic wasn't weak.
As the leader of Europe, the British Ministry of Magic still ranked highly in many aspects of global wizarding governance.
"It's not easy for wizards to improve their strength," Kingsley said cautiously.
"It's certainly not easy," Ivan replied with a nod, casually lifting the two toads—Fudge and Umbridge—into the air with his wand.
"Look at them," Ivan continued. "A Minister of Magic and a senior official, yet their magical abilities are utterly laughable."
He let the toads hover in mid-air for a moment before adding, "If promotions within the Ministry of Magic have no connection to magical competence, then why should wizards even bother studying magic at all?"
Gasp!
The argument that "different people have different roles" or that there was a department dedicated to magical research didn't hold water for Ivan.
In his view, the defining difference between Muggles and wizards was magic itself.
To have a civilization blessed with such power only to adhere to the same mundane, bureaucratic systems as Muggles was, to Ivan, utterly absurd.
"And it's not like they have a good brain either," Ivan added.
"You... you want to overthrow the Ministry of Magic?"
Scrimgeour drew in a sharp breath. The thought alone was chilling.
Given Ivan's current strength, Scrimgeour realized he wasn't merely speculating—he believed Ivan might genuinely be capable of such an act.
Here was a wizard who had single-handedly defeated nearly all the Aurors of the Ministry of Magic and humiliated the elite hired wizards of Gringotts.
With power like this, Ivan could potentially create chaos greater than what Voldemort had wrought in his prime.
"No, no, no," Ivan said with a casual wave of his hand, as if dismissing Scrimgeour's concerns.
"Overthrowing the Ministry? That's far too much trouble. Building a new system from scratch… it's not something I need to waste my time on."
"What do you mean?" Scrimgeour asked, his confusion mirrored by Moody and Kingsley.
Was Ivan implying that someone else had plans to destabilize the Ministry?
"The man whose name you avoid saying," Ivan began, his tone turning slightly amused. "You call him… Voldemort, right?"
The moment the name left Ivan's lips, an icy chill seemed to spread through the air.
For Dawlish and the other Aurors, the mention of Voldemort sent shivers down their spines. Many of them had grown up under the shadow of his terror, and now they trembled uncontrollably.
"Pfft."
Ivan couldn't help but laugh at their reactions.
"Sorry," he said, feigning an apologetic tone, "I know you're all terrified of him."
"But I have to say—while Voldemort may seem terrifying to you, to me, he's… underwhelming, at best."
"The power of the Dark Lord is beyond anything you can imagine!" one of the Aurors suddenly blurted out, his voice trembling but defiant.
Ivan scratched his cheek thoughtfully before replying, "Weren't the Death Eaters arrested after his fall? So, what's this? A remnant sympathizer?"
The Auror who spoke up was a pure-blood wizard, someone whose family had likely benefited from Voldemort's rise.
Ivan could see the logic—the support wasn't out of loyalty but rooted in shared interests.
And now, here was Ivan, an enigmatic figure criticizing the Ministry of Magic's system and openly mocking their fears.
The problem lies in the foundation of the Ministry of Magic's system, which stems from aristocratic rule—the very source of profit and privilege for the pure-blood elite.
If the Ministry of Magic were to become a unified, incorruptible entity, how would these pure-blood families exploit its weaknesses for their gain?
For Ivan to seize power, he would have to either embrace the pure-blood aristocracy's structure or face relentless obstruction from them at every turn.
"Shut up, Travers!"
Scrimgeour barked, his voice sharp with irritation.
Travers belonged to one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, and his family had a history of ties to the Death Eaters.
It wasn't surprising.
During Voldemort's reign, at least two-thirds of the pure-blood families had supported him, either directly or indirectly.
"It's fine, it's fine," Ivan interjected, signaling for Scrimgeour to calm down.
"After all, it's Voldemort we're talking about. He was quite powerful a decade ago."
Ivan paused thoughtfully before adding, "Well, he's probably about as strong as I am now."
The statement sent a ripple of disbelief through the group.
"Maybe he knows more magic than I do," Ivan admitted with a slight shrug. "But in terms of raw magical power? I'd say he's not quite on my level."
Ivan wasn't simply boasting—his confidence came from experience.
He had encountered Voldemort's remnants and compared them to his own battles with Dumbledore.
In his previous engagements, Ivan had never unleashed his full strength.
At most, he'd used 30% to 40% of his magical power, and even that had been enough to overwhelm his opponents.
"You're too arrogant," Scrimgeour snapped, his tone laced with frustration.
Like many others, Scrimgeour and his colleagues had demonized Voldemort in their minds.
No matter how powerful Ivan appeared, they still regarded Voldemort as the pinnacle of magical might.
While Voldemort had never ventured outside of England, this wasn't due to a lack of strength—it was because of Dumbledore's presence in the country.
If the two were to clash, it would inevitably lead to chaos.
Even so, Voldemort, who could go head-to-head with Dumbledore, was easily considered one of the top five most powerful wizards in the world.
If not the second, then certainly among the strongest.
"Heh..."
Ivan let out a faint chuckle, not bothering to argue with Scrimgeour and the others. Slowly, he rose from his seat.
The sight made the Aurors watching from a distance tense up, their hands gripping their wands tightly.
They feared that Ivan might launch another attack over a mere disagreement.
"Don't be so nervous," Ivan said calmly, his voice cutting through the tension.
"I've already said—you're not my enemies."
With a casual motion, Ivan tossed the two toads—Fudge and Umbridge—back to Dawlish, who caught them clumsily.
Then, he raised his wand and lifted the Head of Gringotts, who had been immobilized, into the air.
"Now, watch closely," Ivan said, his tone commanding.
"Magic may not grant every wish," he continued, his voice resonating with authority. "But it can achieve anything that people desire."
As his words hung in the air, the faint sound of rail cars echoed in the distance and a large number of wizards came from all directions.
_____________
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Screech~!
This time, the hired wizards came in droves, their ranks bolstered by goblins. They filled the area, densely packed.
Ivan couldn't help but suspect that Gringotts had summoned wizards from across the whole of Europe.
Haah~
To deal with him, the goblins had clearly gone all out.
"In that case," Ivan said, glancing at the Head of Gringotts, "you're no longer needed."
With a flick of his wand, he tossed the goblin leader aside as if he were nothing.
Under the stunned eyes of the British Aurors, Ivan's body transformed into a swirling white storm.
"Ok! Here I come!"
He rushed headlong into the mass of hired wizards who had surrounded him.
The result of the battle was unsurprising.
It was utterly one-sided.
Another devastating display of overwhelming power.
Moody, Scrimgeour, and the other Aurors had anticipated as much.
Against an Archmage, sheer numbers meant nothing. Human wave tactics were doomed to fail from the start.
"Well, I've had my fun today," Ivan said lightly, standing amidst the fallen mercenaries.
With a graceful bow, he addressed the British Aurors.
"Farewell. If fate allows, perhaps we'll meet again."
Crack~!
In the next moment, with a sharp and crisp sound, Ivan vanished before their eyes.
"Apparition!??"
Scrimgeour's voice broke the stunned silence.
Ivan had used Apparition in a location where Apparition was strictly forbidden.
And he'd done it right in front of them all.
A single wizard had walked through the entirety of Gringotts, starting from the door and leaving behind chaos and defeat.
"He's... gone?"
Scrimgeour tried to trace Ivan's Apparition, but to no avail.
No matter what spell or method he attempted, Ivan's departure was beyond tracking.
This wasn't the standard Apparition used by most wizards—it was a more profound and intricate spatial spell.
To track Ivan's unique form of Apparition, one would first need to have a deep understanding of the Phoenix Force.
Without that knowledge, even comprehending the spell, let alone breaking it, would be an almost insurmountable challenge.
"He's gone," Moody said with a heavy sigh.
He knew how frustrated his two colleagues were at the moment, but the reality was clear—if they couldn't beat him, they simply couldn't beat him, no matter how much they dwelled on it.
"Instead of sulking here, we should focus on uncovering that man's real identity," Moody said briskly, quickly regaining his composure.
Hearing this, Kingsley and Scrimgeour began to recover as well.
"To think that such a dangerous wizard could be hiding somewhere in England—it's unacceptable.."
Scrimgeour wasted no time. He began issuing orders to the Aurors, instructing Dawlish and the others to investigate Ivan covertly.
"Do not," he warned, "under any circumstances, engage him directly."
Ivan's strength was clearly on par with Voldemort or Dumbledore.
If he harbored any ill will toward the Ministry, the Aurors would stand no chance—they'd be taken down in moments.
"I think we should notify Dumbledore immediately," Kingsley suggested.
The proposal was met with unanimous agreement.
At a time like this, having someone as powerful as Dumbledore in the picture was the only way to feel even remotely secure.
Krr! Trr!
Additionally, there was another pressing issue—Fudge and Umbridge.
The two were still cursed, and nothing they had tried so far had worked.
Every counter-curse, every attempt to lift the enchantment, had failed completely.
"..."
Just like the cursed gold coins they had previously encountered, the curse on Fudge and Umbridge was another example of an unreasonably powerful spell.
At this point, their only option was to turn to Dumbledore, hoping that the old headmaster could remove the curse.
On the other side, Ivan had left Gringotts and returned to Hogwarts.
He didn't Apparate directly into the castle; instead, he set his landing point just outside the Forbidden Forest.
"Hmm?"
Ivan stopped in his tracks, his sharp senses picking up on something unusual in the Forbidden Forest.
Though his perception told him he was alone, he knew better.
"Headmaster," Ivan called out, a faint smile forming on his lips. "Have you been waiting for me here for a while?"
There was no need to guess. Ivan already knew who was there.
At Hogwarts, or even in all of England, there was no one other than Dumbledore capable of matching him in magic.
"I'm just taking a walk," Dumbledore said as he stepped out from the shadows of the forest.
The old man's demeanor was calm, showing no sign of surprise or anger at Ivan's recent escapades.
It was as if he didn't care about Ivan's actions at Gringotts at all.
"The moonlight is lovely tonight," Dumbledore remarked with a smile.
Then, with a friendly gesture, he added, "Would you care to join an old man—over a hundred years old—for a little chat?"
"Of course," Ivan replied, falling into step beside Dumbledore.
...
The Forbidden Forest at night was quiet and shrouded in mystery.
In the dense shadows, it felt as though countless unseen eyes were watching the two figures—one old, one young—as they walked deeper into the woods.
The Forbidden Forest, a place that most considered terrifying, seemed more like a private garden for Ivan and Dumbledore as they strolled through it with ease.
Monsters lurking in the forest and dangerous magical plants withdrew into the shadows, observing the two from a safe distance.
Even from afar, they instinctively recoiled, retreating further into the darkness.
The creatures' primal instincts screamed a warning: The two human wizards walking before them were more terrifying than dragons, more dangerous than any magical creature in the forest.
"Gringotts?"
After about five minutes of walking in silence, Dumbledore broke the quiet with a simple question.
"Yeah."
Ivan replied without hesitation, as if he had been expecting it.
"I went there to retrieve some things."
He smiled faintly and added, "But you know, I'm not one to steal from others. I only took what rightfully belongs to me."
"Ah, that sounds very much like you," Dumbledore said, nodding approvingly.
It was clear he wasn't particularly concerned with whether Ivan had actually stolen anything from Gringotts.
But, truthfully, Dumbledore was glad Ivan hadn't resorted to theft.
It wasn't about morality—about being good or bad.
For Dumbledore, it was about the principle. Stealing was cheap.
For a wizard as naturally gifted as Ivan, stooping to theft was unbefitting. It lacked dignity.
The fact that Ivan had openly broken into Gringotts and acted without subterfuge reassured Dumbledore.
It wasn't the method of a thief—it was the bold and confident action of someone who believed in their own power.
After all, Ivan was his disciple, and his openness and willingness to act without deceit were qualities Dumbledore found commendable.
"Don't you blame me?" Ivan asked, curious about Dumbledore's reaction.
"Ha? I don't see why I should," Dumbledore replied with a shrug.
"Didn't you say you were taking back what rightfully belongs to you?"
If it was about reclaiming what was already his, Dumbledore reasoned, it couldn't truly be considered stealing or robbery. It was simply recovering items from the goblins.
"Those cursed gold coins are very dangerous, I wonder what we should do with them," Dumbledore remarked, his tone more serious.
"I know," Ivan said with a nod.
"That's why I have no intention of keeping them. I plan to destroy them immediately."
This admission took Dumbledore by surprise.
"Oh?"
The old headmaster quickly deduced that Ivan was referring to the Soul Coffin and the cursed gold coins it contained.
As for why Ivan claimed those items as his, it wasn't difficult to infer.
For an ancient family like the Ambrosius, it would be entirely plausible for such artifacts to be part of their heritage.
"This is my mission," Ivan added.
Dumbledore, however, misunderstood Ivan's words. He assumed that Ivan was referring to a deeper, perhaps familial duty connected to his lineage.
What Ivan meant, however, was something entirely different.
The system task itself is naturally a kind of mission. If Ivan wants to complete the task, then destroying the Soul Coffin is inevitable.
________
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