The next second.
Clang!
An old drunkard smashed his cup down and stood up!
Stumbling on unsteady legs, he swayed toward the solitary "young believer."
He slapped his hand onto the table!
Slurring his words, he shouted:
"Only... only ignorant fools like you would believe in some disaster... some crisis in the magical world!"
"Bah! I don't believe in that evil!!"
"And that guy called E... E-shang? Who does he think he is?! Let him come! I'm not afraid of him!!"
The crude shouting attracted the attention of the entire pub.
The believers stopped their prayers.
They gathered around one by one.
Grabbing the old drunkard's hand, one said sternly:
"Everyone has their own beliefs and way of life, please do not disturb other compatriots—"
"Bullshit!"
The old drunkard shook off the hand holding him.
Angrily fumbling inside his robes, he pulled out a splintered, filthy wand.
Pointing it at the silent young believer, he yelled:
"What crisis! It's all lies woven by 'E-shang' and the Ministry of Magic! Just to control us!"
"I won't be fooled!"
The response he received was silence.
Even though a wand was pointed right at him.
The young believer remained completely silent.
No.
To be precise.
It was as if he didn't see the old drunkard at all.
He continued sipping the unidentified liquid in his tin cup.
This utter disregard.
It felt like a greater insult to the old drunkard than any words could be.
He turned red from his face down to his neck.
His face turned purple and swollen, looking as if it were about to explode.
"A... Are you a mute?!"
The old drunkard jabbed his wand forward, and a stream of sparks shot out!
Aimed right at that tin cup!
Bang!
Then, a bizarre scene unfolded.
Under everyone's gaze.
The sparks actually passed through the wine cup.
And hit the tabletop!
Leaving behind a scorched black mark.
It was as if, for that split second.
Space had been displaced.
"...Huh?"
The old drunkard froze.
He blinked, looking confusedly at the unscathed cup.
Did he miss...?
Until a shout of astonishment rang out from the crowd—
"Merlin! That... that cup is actually a painting?!"
If one shifted their viewing angle slightly.
They would discover.
That the lifelike tin cup, seemingly held in the young believer's hand.
Was actually just a painting propped against the wall!!
The change in spatial perspective.
That was why the spell "passed through" the cup and hit the table!
In an instant.
The believers suddenly stirred!
They thought of a certain possibility, and a strange light burst from those golden masks!
Meanwhile.
The "young believer" who had remained indifferent finally seemed to decide to acknowledge them.
He slowly stood up.
Shadows rose with his movements, and the lights seemed to retreat before him.
As if.
He himself was a rising sun.
Yet equally, the vastest, deepest darkness.
The shadow engulfed the troublemaking old drunkard.
An invisible pressure spread out.
The old drunkard couldn't help but take two steps back, his eyes wide with a trace of fear.
Yet his mouth refused to yield as he shouted:
"Y-You want to fight?! I'm not afraid of you!"
Saying so.
He waved his pitiful wand around like a club.
The "young believer" turned his head, watching him unmoved.
He opened his mouth.
A clear, bright voice flowed from his lips:
"Do you know how many Sickles a loaf of bread costs right now?"
The old drunkard: "Huh?"
Before he could react.
The "young believer" suddenly clenched his fist, his voice becoming impassioned and powerful!
"A full 9 Sickles! For one loaf of bread! Yet once, a Butterbeer only sold for 2 Sickles!"
"Everyone in the magical world is in a panic because of this rising enemy!"
"In every corner, countless people are preparing and struggling for the coming storm!"
"But you, my dear friend."
The "young believer's" voice suddenly softened.
His gaze pierced through the golden mask, fixing on the frozen old drunkard.
Cobalt blue brilliance flickered under the lights.
"The fact that you can sit here safely, enjoying your morning beer and indulging your temper, is all because someone is doing their utmost to maintain order."
The old drunkard: "I... I..."
He was mostly sober now, seemingly realizing something.
His voice began to tremble.
The "young believer" continued: "And this peace was not bought with alcohol, or by screaming at young people..."
As the words fell.
He abruptly wiped the golden mask from his face!
Revealing that young, handsome, and high-spirited face!
—Ethan Vincent!
Thud!
The old drunkard's eyes rolled back, and he fainted from fright!
A muddy yellow liquid flowed from between his twitching legs.
After today.
He probably wouldn't touch alcohol ever again in his life.
Ethan glanced at him lightly.
He cast a tiny little jinx on this rude old drunkard.
Just enough to give him nightmares for a while~
Then, Ethan turned his head.
He looked at the believers who were trembling with excitement.
He raised his fist.
As if to hammer his words into everyone's heart.
He shouted:
"It is bought with resistance! With every unyielding will!!"
"Ohhhhh!!!"
The believers collectively reached a climax.
Thump, thump, they fell to their knees before Ethan.
Hot tears streamed down from under their golden masks!
"Savior! Please end all disasters and lead us into the new world!"
"We offer you our loyalty! My Lord!"
"Please look at me!!"
[You have delivered an inspiring speech; more people will benefit from this]
[Lamp brightness increased; for a period of time, hidden extraordinary items will be illuminated for you]
Ethan curled the corners of his mouth.
Bathing in the shouts, he opened his arms.
Like a benevolent god.
He proclaimed loudly: "When darkness falls, I will guide you to a safe sanctuary."
"Now, I shall grant you a blessing of light."
As he spoke.
A stream of golden magic flowed out.
Floating among the believers.
Bringing clarity to their bodies and minds.
The believers fell silent.
They bowed their heads piously to experience this gift.
On the other side.
Old Tom stared at this fanatical scene, dumbstruck.
In a trance, he seemed to see Ethan glowing like Merlin descended to earth.
After a long while.
Old Tom silently shrank under the cabinet.
Covering his ears, he looked like he was about to cry.
—I take back my previous words.
He hasn't adapted to these terrifying believers at all!
Ethan Vincent himself is on a completely different level!!
Meanwhile.
Harry, who had come as agreed, silently pulled back the foot he was about to step into the pub with.
Ron asked, puzzled: "What's wrong?"
Meeting his best friend's indescribable gaze.
Ron curiously poked his head in to look.
Then.
He fell silent too.
Pulling back, he said to Harry: "How about we come back later?"
Harry nodded and said in a low voice: "Yeah."
Right now, inside.
It looked like they were holding some kind of activity that would invite the Aurors to come pay a "friendly visit."
—As expected of Ethan!
Even on the way to buy school supplies.
He could pull off such an rousing speech!
Mr. Weasley, accompanying them, grinned awkwardly.
He lamented from the bottom of his heart:
"Merlin's beard, now I finally understand why every Minister for Magic gradually becomes wary of Ethan!"
With this ability to control hearts like the Imperius Curse.
No wonder he can shake the foundation of every ruler!
Unless...
Ethan replaces the Minister for Magic with one of his own people.
Beside them.
Hermione stared at that brilliant golden light, her eyes filled with longing.
--
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