After all, what could he even say?
Until recently, with Harry's help, he had only just learned that Voldemort had a total of seven Horcruxes.
And that Harry himself was one of them.
But simply knowing the number of Horcruxes didn't help—up until mere seconds ago, Dumbledore had no idea where to even begin looking for the remaining ones.
Then, Lyon, this Eastern sorcerer, showed up and whoosh—just like that, he had already found three of them.
If Dumbledore had been just a little less composed, he would have certainly cursed out loud.
"See? What did I tell you? This magic portal is perfect for stealing things," Tony quipped to Banner.
Banner scratched his face. "I mean… it does look incredibly convenient. I kind of want to learn it myself."
Meanwhile, Mordo and Wong exchanged looks, both frowning.
Mordo voiced his concern. "Something isn't right. I can't tap into other-dimensional power anymore."
For a sorcerer from Kamar-Taj, losing access to external magical sources effectively meant becoming just a regular person.
Wong held onto his artifact hat. "There must be some kind of warding magic inscribed here. Look—Lyon's power is strong enough to break through the barrier, which is why he can still use the Mystic Gate."
"That makes sense," Mordo agreed with a nod.
Meanwhile, Lyon took Ravenclaw's Diadem from the still-dazed Dumbledore's hands and casually tossed it onto the ground with the other Horcruxes.
Dumbledore snapped out of his daze. "Lord Lyon, destroying Horcruxes requires the Sword of Gryffindor. Please wait a moment—I will return to the castle to retrieve it."
"No need." Lyon stopped him again. "I happen to have some expertise in soul-related matters. No need for all that hassle."
He formed a hand seal, casting a spell resembling astral projection directly onto the Horcruxes.
Golden energy, as radiant as sunlight, poured over them.
Immediately, thick black mist erupted from the three Horcruxes, swirling violently.
The mist let out eerie, ghostly wails, forming three twisted skulls in the air.
But before they could fully materialize—Lyon's hand seal shifted, and the golden energy intensified, bursting into an even more brilliant light that illuminated the surrounding darkness for hundreds of meters.
Bathed in this holy light, the spectral skulls had no chance to take shape. They instantly began to disintegrate, scattering like dust in the wind.
A few seconds later.
Nothing remained in the air except faint, lingering echoes of agonized wails.
There was no longer a single trace of Voldemort's soul remaining.
"All done!"
Lyon gestured toward the three Horcruxes, now completely intact and even gleaming with greater luster than before.
"The diadem, the locket, and the cup—they've all returned to their original state. You can take them back and store them safely."
Lyon had no interest in Hogwarts' artifacts.
At his level, the things that caught his eye had to be on the scale of the Ice Casket from a frozen planet.
As for this magical world, only things like the Time-Turner or the Resurrection Stone, which defied common logic, were worth looking into.
Dumbledore held the three artifacts in his hands, still in a daze, unsure of what to say.
This was the most extreme display of soul magic he had ever witnessed.
"There are two Horcruxes left." Lyon tapped his knuckles against the cup, producing a crisp clang.
Dumbledore hesitated to speak.
He knew that one of the remaining Horcruxes was Harry.
Before, with his limited options, he had believed that destroying a Horcrux required destroying its vessel along with it.
This meant that Harry would have to face the fate of sacrifice.
But even though Dumbledore was someone who prioritized the greater good—Who, at times, was willing to sacrifice individual interests for the collective—His desire to protect Harry was just as genuine.
That was why Dumbledore had painstakingly devised a plan.
A plan that required Harry to confront Voldemort directly.
Through careful arrangements and the protection Lily had left on Harry, he had intended for Voldemort to personally destroy the fragment of his soul residing within Harry during their confrontation—without actually harming Harry himself.
This way, the Horcrux would be destroyed, and Harry would survive.
But now, it seemed that his plan might no longer be necessary.
Perhaps… he could now hope that Lyon, with his miraculous abilities, might solve Harry's predicament in an even safer way.
"There are two Horcruxes left—one is right beside Voldemort, and the other is Harry Potter, right?" Lyon said.
Dumbledore nodded. "Let's call Harry over."
At that moment, the students and professors in the courtyard had already rushed out of the castle.
They were all crowded at the entrance, watching Dumbledore and the others with not-so-quiet curiosity.
"Harry! Come here!" Dumbledore suddenly called out.
Harry Potter, confused, adjusted his glasses. Ron, standing behind him, gave him a shove, prompting him to hurry over.
"Professor!" Harry stopped in front of Dumbledore, panting slightly.
Dumbledore, with a complex expression, reached out and patted Harry's shoulder.
His voice was heavy with meaning. "Harry, we have spent this time searching for Horcruxes, looking for a way to defeat Voldemort. But I must apologize—there is something I have not told you."
"Professor… what is it?" Harry pressed his lips together, feeling a growing sense of unease.
"Harry, the truth is… you…" Dumbledore closed his eyes, reluctant to utter the cruel reality.
"Hold on, hold on."
Lyon suddenly stepped in, pushing the two apart. "Professor Dumbledore, what exactly are you doing? Why do you suddenly look so pained?"
"I… I was explaining the situation to Harry?" Dumbledore looked genuinely innocent.
"Trust me, Harry will be fine. My magic is more reliable than—well, more reliable than your old friend's character."
Sensing that the conversation was about to take a dramatic turn, Lyon quickly cut off their emotional exchange.
From the way the two of them were acting, it was as if they were about to stage the most classic coming-of-age scene straight out of a movie.
—First, Dumbledore would tell Harry the truth: I'm sorry, child, but you must be sacrificed.
Then, Harry would run off in disbelief, finding some lonely corner to break down in despair.
A few days later, after receiving heartfelt comfort from his teachers and friends, he would finally come to terms with his fate, accept his sacrifice, and complete his hero's journey.
To be honest, Lyon actually enjoyed these kinds of dramatic arcs.
But come on—his power was right here. And yet, old Dumbledore still wanted to stage a tragic scene?
Without warning, Lyon suddenly reached out and slapped Harry on the forehead—knocking his soul straight out of his body.
Boom!
"Haah! W-what's happening!?"
Harry's disembodied soul floated in the air, utterly shocked.
But before he could react, Lyon's hand plunged into his very soul and yanked out a deformed, fetus-like spirit.
"All done."
With a casual wave of his hand, Lyon sent Harry's soul right back into his body.
Then, holding up the twisted, noseless fragment of Voldemort's soul, he handed it to Dumbledore.
"Here, take a look. It's Voldemort, isn't it? Simple as that. And you guys were about to get all emotional over it."
"Wait—what kind of magic is this…?" Dumbledore's mind was in disarray.
What had he just witnessed?
A soul being forcibly separated from a body—only to return completely unharmed?
As the strongest wizard in the British magical world for decades…
Dumbledore suddenly felt like he had fallen behind the times.
The corner of his mouth twitched as he leaned in to examine the grotesque soul fragment. After a moment of dazed silence, he nodded. "Yes… It's Tom's soul, without a doubt."
Lyon's palm surged with the Bolts of Borsat, instantly obliterating the soul fragment.
"Great. Now, all that's left is Voldemort and his final Horcrux."
"Lord Lyon… what are you planning to do? You're not going to—"
"There's no 'not going to' about it."
Lyon smirked. "Cut off the head of the snake first. Let's just take out Voldemort directly."
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