Everyone's expressions changed drastically, a chilling sense of dread creeping into their hearts. Tonks, tying his long hair into a ponytail, bore an expression more serious than ever. "Headmaster Dumbledore resides at Hogwarts—how could anything possibly happen to the school?"
"Unless he's left the grounds," Leon muttered, brows furrowed. Though Slytherin's pure-bloods weren't closely tied to Dumbledore, they nonetheless acknowledged his formidable strength.
To them, Dumbledore was an unshakable pillar—his presence alone enough to keep the sky from falling.
No one questioned Moriarty's intentions, yet suspicion bloomed regardless, sprouting like weeds after spring rain.
As Marcus led the Poker Family forward, Moriarty didn't hesitate. He leapt onto the Hippogriff king's back and took to the sky.
"Quickly! Explain everything while we fly!" Moriarty's voice boomed from above.
Without wasting time, the others mounted their Hippogriffs and followed him into the air.
Down below, the old Jew and Isaac stood, watching the sky in astonishment. The old man wished to explain his neutral stance to Moriarty but couldn't even catch a glimpse of his silhouette.
"…Quinlan is dead," the old Jew murmured.
He knelt beside the bloodstain Quinlan had left behind. A complicated light flickered in his eyes before fading into helplessness and a long, heavy sigh.
"Those ancient ones won't remain still for long…"
Isaac, unable to understand his grandfather's cryptic words, looked up, hoping to spot Moriarty amongst the clouds.
But the Hippogriffs had vanished in a blink, soaring beyond the reach of sight. Just then, Moriarty heard the system's voice echo in his mind.
"Ding Dong~ The host has slain Vampire Archduke Kao Quinlan, former patriarch of the Quinlan Clan. Reward: 15,000 points.
Virus Magic discovered. Achievement reward: Five additional lottery draws."
Moriarty accepted the points and stashed the lottery opportunities away for later—he had no time for gambling now.
Sifting through the remnants of Quinlan's memories, Moriarty discovered the truth about the headless vampire ancestor—originally named Dracula, though Muggles widely knew him as Nikolai.
This name aligned with the lore surrounding the Headless Horseman, yet the rest diverged dramatically.
Dracula had been born a natural pure-blood vampire. His age was lost to history. Initially, he held the title of viscount—and had a head.
That changed the day he stumbled across a piece of enchanted bark—infused with a mysterious magic that began altering his body, mind, and spirit.
During the age of King Arthur's rise, Dracula had ascended to the rank of vampire duke.
But conflict with the Dark World brought him face to face with Merlin, who eventually slew Dracula's blood relatives. That was when their fates intertwined in enmity.
For thirty years, Dracula pursued vengeance against Merlin.
It was during one of their battles that Merlin realized Dracula's magic had the ability to disturb emotions, inciting fear, anger, and despair.
Using his vast arcane knowledge, Merlin deduced that only alchemy could seal such a force.
He journeyed to the elves of Avalon Lake, where Queen Vivian revealed three requirements to seal Dracula:
1. Mastery of the dragon and elven languages.
2. A grandmaster-level alchemist.
3. A singular individual who possessed both and an extraordinary natural gift.
Merlin realized that he, and only he, met those conditions.
Harnessing his unmatched intellect and power, he developed a forbidden branch of magic: Alchemy · Brain Dimensional Space.
When Dracula next struck, Merlin and King Arthur sprang their trap.
Dracula's illusions caused Arthur's court to descend into madness. Believing he had broken their spirits, Dracula ordered Arthur to draw the sword from the lake and duel Merlin.
But it was all a trick.
In reality, Merlin had already ensnared Dracula in his brain-dimensional space. Arthur drove the sword through Dracula's neck and decapitated him.
Merlin then sealed Dracula's body—now headless—in enchanted armor and locked it away.
As for the head, Merlin used elven magic and alchemy to seal it deep within Avalon Lake, ensuring the virus magic would never plague the world again.
But Merlin overlooked one thing—Vivian's love for him.
Possessively, she sealed Merlin inside an ancient oak tree, keeping him forever close.
Fast-forward to a few months ago…
Vampires suddenly went berserk, targeting elves, pixies, goblins—even house-elves.
They were retaliating. At that time, several Vampire Archdukes across Europe heard a mysterious call—originating from Avalon.
It was the voice of their ancestor.
Dracula's head, sealed in the lake, had begun to awaken. The weakening seal had infected Avalon's elves, who showed signs of madness, depression, and even cannibalism—effects of the virus magic.
To the vampire clans, the return of their ancestor promised a resurgence of status and power in the Dark World's hierarchy.
They didn't understand how Dracula had become an "ancestor"—a title even higher than "prince," the class above archduke.
According to Moriarty's analysis, a vampire archduke rivaled the Four House Deans in strength, falling just short of Dumbledore.
A vampire prince equaled Dumbledore, placing them on par with Voldemort or Grindelwald.
But no vampire prince had been born in over two millennia—so what had Dracula done to ascend beyond that?
No one knew—not even the ghosts of the dead.
Still, the vampire lords were certain of their orders: locate Avalon, retrieve Dracula's head, and break the seal.
To this end, they began attacking elf settlements, hoping to discover Avalon's hidden location.
Some drank the diluted blood of Dracula—granting them a portion of the virus magic.
Quinlan's sonic attack against Moriarty inside the mental realm was one such ability.
But none of them were Dracula. Their power paled in comparison—barely one or two percent of the original.
This is where Moriarty felt truly fortunate. Had anyone else attempted Legilimency on Quinlan, they'd have been deceived.
They might have dismissed him as mad and thrown him in St. Mungo's—like Gilderoy Lockhart.
But Moriarty saw it all. The power and influence of the blood race stunned him.
It proved that beneath the surface of their world lurked beings who played with destiny like dice—deciding the world's fate for amusement.
Still, Moriarty couldn't waste time theorizing.
Dracula's head remained sealed in Avalon—but the location of his headless body was unknown.
Vivian had sealed Merlin within the oak tree and kept watch for centuries, but the vampires had found nothing—no sign, no trace.
This was the story Moriarty shared with the pure-bloods.
He recounted his night with Lilith and Jericho, the encounter with the Headless Horseman, the strange happenings at Hogwarts, and the tale told by the spectral rider—every detail laid bare.
The room fell into stunned silence. Leon's jaw dropped so low it looked like a lamb shank was stuck in it.
Charlie frowned so hard that he began to rub at his red hair obsessively. Moriarty feared the man might go bald by morning.
Jericho's expression remained composed, though his face flickered with uncertainty.
"Sir," Jericho finally said, "the Dracula described in Quinlan's memory and the one described by the Headless Horseman—they differ too much."
"Exactly," Moriarty replied, taking a deep breath. His tone was heavy. "That's why I now suspect—the Headless Horseman is the headless vampire ancestor!
Or more precisely, he is Dracula's missing headless corpse—the one the vampire clans have been unable to find all this time.
Merlin's seal must be failing. If the Headless Horseman awakens fully and activates virus magic…
Hogwarts will fall."
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