Erwin had to acknowledge that the Demos family—one of the so-called four supreme families—possessed formidable power. If one factored in the specialized abilities of those with ancient dragon-tamer bloodlines, their strength could even rival Dumbledore's. This was the concealed reason behind Dumbledore's failure to protect the Cavendish parents. The sheer power these families wielded was simply overwhelming.
Yet, despite their might, Erwin had dispatched Rivers and his unit with meticulous preparation. Armed with Muggle firearms to establish initial advantage, Erwin calculated that the optimal scenario for the Demos family would be a pyrrhic victory resulting in devastating casualties. The Cavendish family, however, would not sustain such losses.
What went wrong? Erwin contemplated, his brow furrowed.
Rivers had reported that he was injured by Durette Demos—the young man Erwin had encountered previously. By Erwin's assessment, Durette possessed the skill of an average Auror at best. How had he suddenly grown so powerful?
Erwin's mind flashed back to his experience at the Demos manor, analyzing the events with precision. Is this individual actually maintaining a façade?
He contemplated for a moment but couldn't definitively deduce the answer. However, he would have the truth soon enough.
"Old Tom," Erwin commanded, his voice steady. "Assemble the operatives and wait. We are mobilizing to visit the Demos family."
Old Tom nodded and turned to make the arrangements.
Rivers, still clutching his bleeding wound, limped forward. "Master, please! Take me with you. I want revenge. I want to demonstrate true cruelty to them!"
Erwin looked at Rivers, his expression unreadable. "To be honest, I sometimes hope your foolishness is merely a performance. But observing you now, it's evident you're simply brutish."
Rivers scratched his head, confused. As Erwin turned to leave, Rivers looked to the nearby healing wizard. "What did he mean? Am I accompanying him or not?"
The wizard sighed helplessly. "He didn't say you weren't going, which means you are."
Rivers' eyes lit up. He bolted out the door before the healer could add that his wounds were still bleeding and required immediate rest.
The Cavendish forces assembled with military precision. By the time Erwin stepped outside, his army was ready to deploy. He glanced over the ranks.
"Move out!"
With a snap of his fingers, Erwin vanished. The Cavendish operatives, masters of Apparition, followed suit in a coordinated swirl of motion. Erwin offered no rousing speech; for these individuals, none was necessary. As long as Erwin's direction was clear, they would follow without hesitation. That was the absolute loyalty of the Cavendish family.
They materialized outside the Demos manor. Erwin stood at the front, surveying the estate.
"Old Tom," Erwin said softly. "Make our presence known."
Old Tom nodded. He drew his wand from his sleeve, as did the others behind him. Yet, they didn't cast immediately. Instead, they looked expectantly at Rivers.
Rivers, misunderstanding the cue, reached for his shoulder and produced an RPG launcher.
Erwin's face darkened instantly. With Rivers around, elegance is impossible.
Old Tom stepped over and swatted the weapon down. "Fool! Put that away. If you perish by the Master's hand one day, don't say I didn't warn you."
Rivers looked around, observed everyone else holding wands, and chuckled awkwardly. "Sorry, sorry! Old habits. You know how effective these are. I just can't help myself."
He tucked the RPG away and drew his wand instead. Erwin ignored the theatrics. Rivers was uncouth, but he was loyal. In the days before they entered the wizarding world, Rivers had shielded Erwin from countless physical attacks—twice taking near-fatal blows intended for Erwin. That history bought him immense latitude.
Old Tom's wand glowed, channeling a spell. The others followed suit.
A barrage of spells flew toward the manor—but slammed into an invisible barrier, exploding harmlessly against a shimmering shield.
Erwin smiled faintly. "A comprehensive Protego? I know this spell intimately."
But he didn't need to break it. The Demos family was already emerging to greet them.
A crowd of wizards gathered within the estate grounds, parting to permit a figure through. Durette Demos stepped forward to the entrance.
"Erwin Cavendish," Durette sneered. "I knew you'd come running back after your previous defeat."
Erwin assessed Durette carefully. His strength had improved dramatically—far more than seemed natural. He was even stronger than his father now. Erwin's voice was casual, cutting. "Not inadequate. You've improved considerably. You're even stronger than your father now. Let me guess... is the old man deceased?"
Durette's face went pale, replaced by a manic, twisted smile. "You guessed correctly! But today, I'm here to entertain you. Would you like to enter and sit? We've changed chefs. I hope they satisfy your... refined palates."
Erwin chuckled, the sound cold. "Of course. I'm starving."
In a blink, Erwin vanished and reappeared instantly beside Durette, standing inside the barrier.
Durette's eyes widened, his pupils contracting sharply. The shield was still active. Yet Erwin had passed through it as if it didn't exist.
How?
Durette couldn't comprehend it. The composure he had constructed shattered, replaced by cold wariness and a spike of genuine fear. If Erwin had chosen to attack at that precise moment—
"If I had wanted to eliminate you," Erwin said, as if reading his thoughts, "you would be deceased already."
Durette swallowed hard, the arrogance draining from his posture. Erwin's smile remained, but it no longer held any warmth.
"What?" Erwin asked, stepping past the stunned young man. "Aren't you going to invite me in for a meal?"