"Beware that, when fighting monsters, you yourself do not become a monster. For when you gaze long into the abyss, the abyss also gazes into you." — Friedrich Nietzsche
African Front
The purpose of infantry is to close in and destroy the enemy. A phrase their CO, Peter Smith, was often fond of saying. It would have a much greater impact if they bothered to "close in and destroy the enemy." Instead, they spent their time in fleeting skirmishes and mass retreats. Taking strategic points and territory was out of the question. The high command still feared the outcome of the failed French invasion. Any mass gathering of allied troops could be wiped out in an instant by Grindelwald's wunderwaffen. Consequently, their numerical superiority had been rendered obsolete. What could have been a massive thrust of allied forces had been turned into a game of cat and mouse.
I expected the intelligence services to have figured this out by now. I am now denied my rightful combat. You disappoint me, Harry. Morrigan thought.
As such, they had been relegated to merely being a parade army. Fancy nobles visited them for which they had to stand in formation for annoyingly long hours. At least, the part where they conducted drills was fun. But for Merlin's sake, she craved battle!
The last time she had fought was when raiding a Black Hand base in Britain alongside Harry. It had been over before it even began. All she could do was sit on her backside and wait for something to happen. On the flip side, with ample free time on her hands, she had been to peruse the Giovanni tomme. It had been a treasure trove of knowledge when it came to the dark arts. Morrigan had thought that rituals and magic involving blood were the end all and be all. To her surprise, it wasn't. Over the centuries the Giovanni family had raided vampire colonies, mage orders, and death cults for knowledge. Perhaps in a bid to understand their condition, they made this grimoire.
Morrigan found it ironic that given how much the vampires put on a boisterous display of being masters of the night, they were just as scared of the dark as any regular human was. Soul magic was the endpoint of the research. A source of energy touch above blood magic. It lacked the sheer energy of blood but also its volatile nature. Soul magic could be tethered to one singular purpose and then proceed to perform it excellently. In contrast, blood magic was a troll high on a concoction of fury drugs ready to wreck everything. Blood has passion in it. The soul had had a singular mode of purpose in it which wasn't corrupted with the perversions of blood and flesh.
Morrigan already had a solid base in soul magic, courtesy of her Horcrux. Vampires lacked souls of their own to work with. Draining others of their souls was a complex business. Not only did the rituals require preparations in coordination with astronomy but also a bit of divination. However, unlike vampires, Dementors had no problem instantly interacting or extracting souls. That was their singular purpose. Unfortunately, for the Giovannis, all their attempts to parlay or tame dementors had ended disastrously. Since they couldn't use wands, they couldn't summon the Patronus charm to make dementors behave.
Fortunately for her, Morrigan was a witch. A highly skilled one to boot as well. A witch with a Horcrux and a wand. All she needed were test subjects on whom she could test their hypothesis. Hypothesis that required mass testing on numerous subjects to obtain positive confirmation. Morrigan pouted at that. The ministry would never sanction something like this on house elves, much less the Azkaban population.
If she had control over the units below, she could exercise much more control over them. Assign the more agreeable captains to units and have them ignore much of what she does.
"That's an interesting line of thought." Morrigan mused to herself. Barring the very top, all the people involved in the military were inexperienced. Despite being subjected to the conscription effort like everyone else, the rich and powerful had opted for roles that didn't subject them to the front. They were in the officer corp, administration, and procurement. She often wondered where Harry and his gang had ended up. That was one mystery neither Malfoy, Parkinson, nor Lestrange had been able to solve for her despite all their money. All she had heard was that they had been whisked away by Arcturus
She looked across the desert front as she took a swing from her water bottle. Even from the distance, through the storms, and mirages – she could make the dominating structures of the pyramids. Their objective was to push the German forces from Africa, topple the colluding regimes, and take control.
She cast a few scrying charms on a puddle near her and saw the usual formation of Axis troops in their cities. Thankfully, they had chosen to wait and see what the allied forces would do. She shuddered to think what an attack would have looked like with that buffoon, Peter Smith, in charge. It would be a slaughter with soft-bellied fools getting shredded with dark curses.
Or perhaps this could be an opportunity. Morrigan wondered. One man's crisis is another man's opportunity.
She smiled wickedly into the sun. This was the opportunity she had been waiting for. The man next to her stirred. A young, overly energetic fool who refused to take a hint under the best circumstances.
"If I had known you would be so happy to be in my presence, Miss Gaunt." Olaf joked, "Nah, I am just joking with you. Everybody is so grim in the camp sometimes, you know?"
Morrigan kept smiling as she twirled the ring in her hand and the Horcrux stirred awake in response and reached out to her. Morrigan reached out with her mind and let magic overtake her sight. Her skin turned ashen, and cracks of glowing red formed on it.
"Morrigan?!" Olaf yelled, "Is everything all right?!"
Her smile turned into a wicked grin. Her eyes opened to reveal pitch-black orbs and Olaf fell on his back. Credits to him he didn't panic and immediately reached for his wand.
"Expelliarmus." She shot and Olaf was now defenseless, "Petrificus Totalus"
With Olaf less of a bother now. Morrigan took a potion and drained it in a single swing. She briefly spied Cassiopeia and Adam laying down wards at breakneck speeds to prevent people from spying on her impromptu ritual. Soon a comforting blankness overtook much of her mind leaving only a small corner for emergency escapes.
Sages of the ancient past had talked about realms beyond the comprehension of mortal beings present here. These were places where the very fabric of reality twisted and writhed, where the natural laws we hold dear crumbled into insignificance. These realms embodied singular, alien concepts that transcended the bounds of human thought. Morrigan wrapped Olaf's soul around her like a protective cape.
Accessing these realms, much like their nature, was contradictory. It was simple yet difficult. All one had to do was meditate with the help of their occlumency and ponder on the region they wished to explore. Yet to pitiful creatures used to using wands as crutches, having their mind limited to simple cause and effect transfiguration, this was surprisingly difficult. The matter was further exacerbated by the weakness of the flesh. As such, even Morrigan was forced to make use of hallucinogens.
There existed realms of eternal war and wrath, where ceaseless tempests of fury clashed and roared without abandon. The fury of carnage was not an act but a living entity, perpetually feeding on the anger felt by sentient species. Morrigan wrapped Olaf's soul around her tightly as she strained to escape this and venture deeper. In the physical world, Olaf groaned in pain and started bleeding.
Other realms were vast repositories of arcane knowledge, a chaotic convergence of the esoteric and the mundane. A living sentient library that was ever hungry for knowledge like a Polar bear that hadn't eaten since hibernation. The collective knowledge of us all, a millennia since gaining sentience, drifted like a seductive ballerina; Always luring inquisitive minds to feast on their souls. A siren's song to wayward mariners. Morrigan felt an intense pull to this. The library shapeshifted to conform to Morrigan's ideal of comfort. Tall halls with massive chandeliers. The library promised Morrigan everything she ever wanted. Knowledge to make a sorcerer's stone. The keys to the Underworld. The complete map of the Umbra. Knowledge of the cosmic arts. All she had to do was step inside and pledge herself eternally to knowledge.
She walked in a trance, unable to resist the song. Around her, Olaf's soul panicked at the prospect of being eternally in the library. His thoughts manifested as a shimmering, weakening, but protective barrier around her. Olaf panicked about never enjoying food, the taste of butterbeer, the touch of a woman, and the joy of breathing fresh air. The spirit of the library let out a deep grumbling sound in annoyance at Olaf's antics. However, this brief respite was all Morrigan needed to reclaim her mind and immediately escape from the halls.
And then, there were the realms inhabited by eldritch beings, entities whose forms defied the sanity of any who dared to behold them. These creatures, born of the abyss, existed beyond the scope of human language, their very essence a blasphemous affront to the order of the universe. Morrigan wisely avoided venturing or even looking at those for too long. She could feel Olaf's physical health rapidly deteriorating.
Finally, Morrigan ventured towards where her prize was. The realm of lost souls. The restless dead, where tormented souls clung to the shadow of life, their dread of oblivion chaining them to a wretched half-existence. They stubbornly held onto the delusion of life to avoid fading away into the great beyond. Morrigan briefly paused to admire their defiance of death even when they were literally dead and a hair's breadth away from the great beyond. The point where nothing came back from. From the mighty neverborn to the cantankerous Djinn, all stayed away from the abyss.
Morrigan focused her thoughts once more, powering her emotions from the latent energy of Olaf's soul. She lowered her occlumency shields and let the whispers of the warp creatures fill inside her. She shaped her thoughts on military figures. Luckily for her, the land she was standing on right now had been one of the most violent places on Earth since antiquity. As such, the presence of military minds, souls, and thoughts was high. A few curious souls floated near her, muggle ones judging by their potency, and tried to probe her thoughts with their own.
Too late. Morrigan thought and smiled through the projection. Her face morphed into a large gaping maw filled with tendrils that grabbed the souls and brought them to her teeth. Several of them were devoured by her before the neverborn noticed the theft and chased after her. This was unexpected. She never knew that these beings could be so territorial or there was a concept of ownership here.
Her very soul recoiled, knowing she had been spotted. An eldritch horror, an entity of unfathomable dimensions, loomed above her. It was a monstrosity of a thousand wings and a thousand eyes, each one seething with an abyssal wrath. It lashed out at Morrigan with a talon. With a desperate incantation, she wrapped herself in Olaf's soul and felt his essence shred assault. The force of the attack hurled her through the veils of the realm, casting her down with the fury of a fallen star. For a moment she recalled the Muggle religious studies and how the devil had been cast from the heavens.
I wonder if that's how he felt, and the vision materialized before her showcasing it before vanishing. Morrigan plummeted, the layers of existence tearing at her as she descended. She focused her mind on finding a center point. One North star that she could materialize and guide her home through this tumultuous storm.
Power. Her wand. Hogwarts. Money.
Nothing worked. She already had all those she focused on escape from death. On being immortal and felt her internal compass stabilize but it wasn't enough. She felt her bones creak under the pressure from the fall. Then the sudden realization hit her. She hated death. What she hated most was being immortal alone. Alone just like the orphanage was. She remembered the silly boy who oft thought himself too good for her.
Harry. She moaned. Her Northstar. The one whose presence had helped her overcome psychosis in America.
With a final, violent jolt, she landed at the lowest level, Earth. Morrigan awoke with a gasp and felt pain surge through her. Thankfully, Cassie immediately responded by administering painkillers and patching up the very worst of the bleeding.
Morrigan nodded, her mind already turning inward. She felt the souls she had captured, their presence a dark, pulsing satisfaction deep within her. Despite the harrowing fall, she had succeeded. She grinned, the taste of victory against overwhelming odds. A fate even Dumbledore wouldn't be able to replicate. She turned around to see and spotted a shriveled husk, the remains of Olaf. His body looked like it had aged a hundred years in a few minutes. His eye sockets were hollow, and his mouth locked in a perpetual scream.
"In war, sacrifices are necessary," she murmured, her voice devoid of remorse. She laid back and let Cassie work over her. Soon, Lestrange came over with a healer and handed him a coin sack. The healer juggled the bag and nodded at him before beginning to work on Morrigan.
Just as planned. You always bring me home, lover. Morrigan smiled.
A Scandal in Paris
Agnus, the matron of the estate went about her business with painful movements. Every step shot pain up her knees and her joints flared. Even swishing her wand seemed like a painful chore these days. She would scowl deeply whenever a house elf apparated too near her with a loud crack. If she could muster the voice to demand that they whip themselves, she would have. Right now, she couldn't even begin to do that. Only the comfort of premium tobacco soothed her nerves.
"You are depressed, Agnus." Her sister Juliette would say if she was still alive.
"Understatement of the century? What gave it away?" Agnus would reply and they two would bicker back and forth until they cracked and started laughing hysterically. That would briefly make her forget her woes. Unfortunately, all had left her. Her husband had died in his sleep a year ago. Her other family a while back. She did maintain a gossip network with the local ladies for comfort but that had turned grimmer as the war dragged on.
The only remaining tether she had to this world was her only son.
Jean Phillipe.
When the storms of war gathered over continental Europe, she had begged, pleaded, and even tore at her hair for him to escape to America. He was the last remaining member of their family. At his age, Jean should've been chasing girls, finishing his schooling, and giving her grandkids to spoil. Unfortunately, the call of destiny for all young men was too great. The voice of Gellert Grindelwald had them hooked. He made them see things and imagine fates that even the wisdom of their mothers couldn't shatter. Agnus had been skeptical of the man. Their people lived comfortably in the silence of the world. There was no need to genocide elves, veela, centaurs, goblins, and muggles for some maddened idea of a paradise on Earth. Yet when Jean sent excitable letters home of victories after victories as the armies marched east, she had begun to ease up on her worries. Perhaps, things for once, would turn out well? She sighed as she let out smoke circles in the silence of the chair.
*CRACK*
The loud apparating sound of the house elf shocked her and caused her to lose her pipe. She glared down at the house elf for daring to bother her, but he was too excited.
"Mistress!" The elf squealed and Agnus's glare grew truly apocalyptic.
"Master is back home!" He yelled and Agnus paused. Had her isolation caused her to be delirious? Was she hallucinating?
"Master Jean is home! He came home from the war!" The house elf yelled.
For the first time in a long while, Agnus felt excitement flow through her. The world seemed a little less gloomy, her limbs ached a little less, and maybe for once, there was good in the world.
Gossip
"Come now, Agnus." Alice said, "You are, forgive me for saying, gloomier than usual. Tell us what happened?"
"Grief shared is grief halved." One of the other ladies chided with a mouth full of biscuits.
"Your son has returned from the front, no? You should be holding celebrations and making merry. Good Merlin, woman!" Alice chided.
"If only it was all sunshine and rainbows like you made it all to be, Alice. The boy I sent off is not the one I have received. I fear he has changed. And not for the better." Agnus said.
"Oh dear." Alice sighed, "Poor kids. I can't imagine the horrors they have had to face while fighting those muggle lovers and savage beasts."
"The problem wasn't the enemy," Agnus mumbled and Alice exchanged a look with others present.
"Come again?" Bridget asked.
Agnus hesitated again but continued under their encouraging gazes. "Jean says there's a cabal of vampires controlling all the major decisions in the army. Grindelwald doesn't know what's happening on the ground. The younger recruits... they're being physically abused."
"Dear Merlin" Alice gasped, "How can it be so?"
Nora, who had been quiet, suddenly interjected. "Agnus, you shouldn't speak ill of Grindelwald. He's, our leader."
Agnus's eyes flashed bitterly. "Why would I lie? This involves my son. His word, fighting on the frontlines, means more to me than the sellout rags from Berlin."
The room fell silent. Alice reached out, covering Agnus's hand with her own. "What else did Jean say?"
"The troops aren't being paid on time," Agnus said, her voice shaking. "They're not equipped properly either. It's chaos out there."
Eliza shook her head. "How can this be? They always tell us the army is well-supplied."
"That's what they want us to believe," Agnus said bitterly. "But Jean sees it every day. And he fears the worst is yet to come."
The women exchanged worried glances, the atmosphere of their tea gathering now heavy with the weight of Agnus's revelations. However, gears churned inside Alice's head. She didn't get to where she was without letting a perfectly good crisis go to waste. There was something she could leverage here that would allow her to propel herself further in the empire. She just had to figure it out.
A few miles away in a secure safehouse underground, Jean Philippe morphed back to reveal Harry Petrov walking into the zone. Harry had created several tiny spider-like devices that had entered his bloodstream. These sent low pulses that will be easier to track when the times. He tossed a memory vial to Helena who immediately got to work on the real Jean Phillipe and altered his memories to match Harry's experience today. When the time comes, everything would fall into place like a jigsaw to procure an outcome, hopefully of course.
A coded message was forwarded to OWL back in Eldermoor.
Nicolas smiled as he saw the first stages of the red orchestra fall into place. While solid infiltration of Grindelwald's networks was nigh impossible, that didn't they couldn't shake the tree and see what fell out. He ordered his aide to print the "explosive" article for tomorrow's Daily Prophet. Soon the Axis-occupied front would know what truly goes on in Grindelwald's elite circles. Having lived a long life, Nicolas knew the pain points of a dictatorship like Grindelwald.
Grindelwald promised his people a utopia, anything short would reflect badly on his cult of personality. Of course, promising a utopia was anything but easy or possible; Especially when your enemies had wands of their own and were now led by a credible enemy. Sooner or later, battlefield successes would turn into stalemates and then defeats. The enemy that you pushed around, learned from its mistakes, and it would have its fangs in your throat. In times like this, dictators would look for quick solutions. Free media would be the first thing to go. Reporting anything but great victory every day would be tantamount to treason. Thus, the entire society would slowly become an echo chamber where the same narrative was repeated.
Consequently, people would stop believing their newspapers and become cynical. The intelligence, even as mighty as the Black Hand, couldn't be everywhere in an empire spanning millions of people. Even they relied on local aurors, journalists, and councils to gauge popular consensus. In an echo chamber, even the Black Hand would become cynical and blind. Thus, reporting something like this via the Prophet was perfect.
Besides, if Nicolas remembered young Agnus even half as accurately as he believed. His gossip queen of a student would spread the sob story of her son like wildfire across France.
Grindelwald would move to block the paper. Thus, rendering credibility to their claim in a cynical audience. Moreover, Agent Chimera was in a perfect place to start underground distribution networks. Now if only they could match their espionage prowess with a stagnating military.
It had been more than 3 months since the conscripts left for Africa after training. At that time, they had yet to engage even in a single skirmish. Perhaps he should have counterintelligence look at that?
Daily Prophet
Grindelwald Under Vampire Control? Dark Secrets of the Giovanni Family Revealed
In a shocking revelation that has sent tremors throughout the wizarding world, sources within Gellert Grindelwald's army have exposed a sinister truth: the notorious vampire family, Giovanni, appears to be pulling the strings behind Grindelwald's political and military operations.
The Giovanni family first came to prominence after being exposed for hosting dark magic rituals and preying on American witches and wizards. This nefarious clan is now implicated in even darker deeds within Grindelwald's ranks.
Several high-ranking sources within the army have complained about rampant abuse of power, theft of pay, and the conduct of dark rituals. These sources, speaking on the condition of anonymity, describe a nightmarish scenario where entire villages of witches and wizards have disappeared without a trace. Soldiers report that their orders were to escort prisoners to Giovanni strongholds, but what becomes of these captives remains a chilling mystery.
"We were told to deliver them to the Giovanni estates," one soldier recounted. "Once they entered those gates, we never saw them again. It's as if they vanished into thin air."
Experts consulted by the Daily Prophet, specializing in dark magic and creatures, suggest a terrifying possibility. They believe that the Giovanni family might be using blood magic to exert a mental stranglehold on Gellert Grindelwald. This could explain Grindelwald's recent erratic decisions and his apparent obliviousness to the atrocities happening under his command.
"Blood magic is a potent and dangerous art," explained Professor Lydia Fenwick, a renowned expert on dark creatures. "If the Giovannis are indeed employing such means, they could very well be manipulating Grindelwald to serve their dark purposes."
The Ministry of Magic has yet to comment on these allegations, but pressure is mounting for an investigation into the extent of the Giovanni family's influence and the true nature of Grindelwald's leadership. As fear and uncertainty grip the wizarding world, one thing is clear: the darkness lurking within the heart of Grindelwald's regime is far more sinister than previously imagined.
Stay tuned to the Daily Prophet for more updates on this developing story.
Harry grinned as he saw Jean's home get raided by Grindelwald's forces. Agnus cursed a storm up and down, but the men simply dragged Jean outside and disappeared into the night. A red stunner hit knocking Agnus out cold. Besides him, Charlus frowned as they found it out was Alice who reported Agnus and her son to Grindelwald. He had lost 10 galleons on the bet. Harry and Sebastian had bet that it would be Alice who ran off to Grindelwald first. Thus, they were a few coins richer for it.
"Gentlemen, prepare for phase 2 of the plan," Harry whispered through their communication equipment. A series of acknowledgements followed and the team moved out to follow the thuggish aurors who kidnapped Jean.
"Cho to Piranhas. I have their trail. It's fresh. You lads best get on it before the magic starts dissipating." Cho said. Soon the team apparated and landed outside a building that could've easily been mistaken for a muggle office.
"Noble, Iris, Lion – Remember keep magic to a minimum. We have to make it look like vampires." Harry said. He rechecked with his device to ensure that it was the right location and Cho had not merely transported them into the general vicinity.
"Noted Chimera," Noble said.
They took their places outside the building. Iris stepped up first and started working on the locks. Lion established an outside perimeter and kept watch. Meanwhile, Harry sent in lucky golden snitches through the chimney when Iris gave him the go-ahead. He scanned the building, mapping it on a parchment below him. He soon spotted Jean strapped to a chair as the Aurors forcibly poured potions down his throat and wrote his confessions. They easily bought the fact that Jean did talk to foreign media and spilled secrets.
"Wards and doors open, gents. Ready when you are." Iris said.
"Roger that, Iris. Take up Lion's spot. Lion to us." Harry said as the three boys sneaked inside the station. He took a glass flask that threw out a persistent red mist that hindered concentration. It was a weapon reverse-engineered from the samples found by ECLIPSE during the Giovanni manor raid. A stream of curses erupted as the two Aurors lost concentration and sight. Sebastion and Charles moved in for the kill armed with the ritual knife preferred by the Giovannis, another reward for their burglary. The two boys stabbed the two Aurors in the neck and let them die. Jean looked at them with hopeful eyes, expecting that his comrades had come to his rescue. Unfortunately for the Corporal, this was the end of the line for his war. The three wordlessly surrounded Jean and Harry leveled his wand and started chanting. Several puncture marks over his neck, wrists, and thighs erupted – reminiscent of the vampire's feeding bite. Meanwhile, Sebastian made several cuts in accordance with Giovanni's blood rites. He scowled as Charlus lost his nerve at the last moment and walked aside.
Jean wordlessly howled in pain but the silencio on him was unrelenting. Charlus may have lost his nerve, but Harry never broke his stare. He was their captain and whatever orders were given; he would see them through. Soon Jean passed out due to the blood loss and the group took this as their cue to escape.
Let Giovannis explain to Grindelwald how this came to be.
The Black Hand
Grandmaster Eric silently contemplated the turn of events in the last few days. Agent Zero had presented him their findings and the truth was too morbid for even their macabre standards. A young military officer had been found dead while on a visit home after criticizing "vampires" present in the military. Foreign press had run with the news all over. Difficult questions were raised during meetings. Tantrums and ranks were thrown all over in equal measure.
The military had been furious at the news despite the efforts of various agencies to quell the news. They were out for blood. An investigation had been launched and closed within the same hour on the orders of Lord Grindelwald. Not only had they alongside the regular public learned of the existence of a vampire clan within their clans, but now they were dangerously close to knowing what went on in their hidden labs. Everyone believed the hideous creatures they wielded on battlefields were elaborate transfigurations of Lord Grindelwald. The truth was far more sinister than that.
Grindelwald had dismissed the entire thing as sensationalism designed to distract him. He had refused to either get involved or let them openly investigate Giovanni's complicity in the act. The lord had ordered the story to be buried. The state media had classified the death as an act of resistance. The slain aurors were awarded medals of bravery and their families received compensation. Unfortunately, that narrative didn't last long. Jean Phillipe was from a prominent family and several petitions later, Agent Zero had been forced to step in.
"It is clear that this was a Giovanni mission, Grandmaster. The pattern of the cuts and blood drained is clear evidence of a Giovanni blood ritual." Agent Zero said. "It is obvious these leeches have grown too arrogant under our lord's patronage that they have started such brazen powerplay."
"Perhaps," Eric admitted. "What irks me is, how did Jean know about Giovannis? Their alliance. Hell, their mere existence was a closely guarded secret. An upstart Corporal would hardly be the one to know about it."
"Under normal circumstances, I would agree, Grandmaster." Agent Zero said and then hesitated.
"Spit it out, Zero. I am not getting any younger here." Eric admonished.
"Well, there are two possible reasons for it. The first one is more benign." Zero said. "Soldiers are close-knit with a lot of free time on their hands when not out on active deployments. Such an environment fosters a healthy bit of gossip and rumor-mongering through the typical grapevine. That is of course when they are not engaged in the proud military tradition of sodomy."
"And the more sinister one?" Eric asked.
"Jean Phillipe was a nephew, albeit a distant one of our new generalissimo. In all honesty, he had warned him about it to watch out for the evil vampires." Zero replied.
"And you couldn't have said the rational explanation first without putting weird mental images in my psyche?" Eric said.
"I am presenting you with all the facts, Grandmaster. As is my job." Zero said and Eric would've bet his throne that Zero was smiling beneath his mask.
"What is Mariam's view on this?" Eric asked.
"Total condemnation as always." Zero said, "Normally I would have ignored her given her bias. However, she has demanded a chance to visit France and conduct her investigation."
"That confident, huh?" Eric asked.
"Oui." Zero said.
"Very well. Let her leave. Discreetly of course. If we act ourselves, the Giovannis might detect our hand and alert Lord Grindelwald. He wants absolutely zero meddling or chances of turf war between us while he focuses on wrapping up Europe." Eric said.
"Very well, Grandmaster." Zero saluted and left the office.
African Front.
What was power if you weren't going to use it? Does it even exist if others aren't there to witness it? If a tree fell in the woods and nobody heard it, did it even fall? The soldiers around her too grew restless. The souls in her clutches, even more so. Soon the sheer boredom would overcome whatever fear they had of Grindelwald's superweapon. She leaned into herself and contemplated the dilemma.
Morrigan leaned against the hot stone of the fortress wall, her eyes half-closed in contemplation. The spectral whispers of military generals long dead swirled around her, Visions of ancient battles played before her eyes, showing her the way.
One vision showed an ancient battle of antiquity. The soldiers closed in on the enemy through deception to negate their projectile weaponry. The enemy commander was too beleaguered and afraid at the prospect of hitting his troops so that his cannons didn't fire a single volley.
Grindelwald's generals wouldn't dare use their secret spell if they knew their soldiers would be in the blast range. The revolts that would follow would render the generals obsolete via mutiny and swift hanging. Her thoughts were abruptly interrupted by the blaring of an alarm. She straightened, her eyes snapping open. The fortress was under attack. Another skirmish with an enemy scouting party. The scrying screens showed spells being traded. Morrigan grinned in bloodlust, perhaps this was the opportunity she had been waiting for.
Overhead, heavy dark clouds began to gather as if responding to her call and Morrigan let out a demented laugh as she dashed towards the frontline. The very air around her crackled with barely restrained energy. Morrigan strode to the edge of the battlement, her eyes scanning the battlefield below. The enemy force, though small, was making a fierce push against the fortress walls. Her troops were holding them off, but just barely.
She immediately apparated below and a few feet from them.
Cowards. She snorted at the Allied troops. They stayed too far apart and were ready to bolt at the slightest of the weapon being deployed. The clouds thundered overhead calling to Morrigan's battle spirit. Behind her Cassiopeia and Lestrange followed but she ignored the duo. She raised her wand in the air and a thunder strike responded in call and connected with her magic. The troops around her were now getting blinded due to the sheer force of the sandstorm around them
"Tempestas Fulgur!" she cried, and a bolt of lightning shot from the heavens, striking the center of the enemy force. The ground shook with the impact, and soldiers were thrown in all directions, their screams drowned by the roar of thunder. She smiled again as the smell of burnt flesh wafted in the air.
"Great Merlin!" Lestrange roared over the sound of the storm. "Cassie! She is in one of her moods, we have to get the others away from here or they will all be burnt meat!"
Cassie couldn't yell loud enough over the sound of the storm but nodded in acknowledgment. The two pulled out their wands and started forcibly dragging the Allied forces away from the new front.
A second bolt followed, then a third, each one more devastating than the last pounded the sand below, turning it into glass. Morrigan's eyes glowed with an ominous white light as she swung her wand in a wide arc. The enemy recognized her as a priority number one and leveled a dozen curses toward her. All bounced off a giant shield she had conjured.
"My turn now!" Morrigan cackled.
She gave another swish of her wand and the sand beneath the beleaguered Krauts came alive. They fired useless counter curses against and some even conjured shields but it was for naught. The sand crawled into ears, nose, and mouth, and wrapped itself around them. The muffled screams of Grindelwald's men soon went silent alongside the battlefield. Her heartbeat probably exceeded the limits of safety, but she didn't care. She twirled the horcrux on her ring and felt the screeching of the men as their souls were pulled inside the gem. Forever to labor inside Morrigan's crystal.
Yet she wasn't content. This was a mere appetizer for her. She wanted more. She craved more!
Morrigan glanced around to see more and more of the troops gathering around her. Admiring her handiwork in stunned awe. None dared utter a word for the fear of drawing the war maiden's wrath. Morrigan sensed that the display had raised their blood as well. They craved battle as much as she did. No fancy speeches were needed to convince them or other threats.
Morrigan simply pointed a finger towards the city where their enemy had dug up and routinely mocked their invasion that did anything but invade.
"That thing is an affront to us all. It deserves death. I will give it death." She yelled with her wand pressed to her throat. Her voice sounded as if Zeus of old was thundering at the troops from Olympus. "Who wants war?"
A split second of silence followed her speech before the truths roared in affirmative and Morrigan grinned.
The panicked calls of Peter Smith to withdraw went unanswered by everyone.
Decimation
Mokte watched pensively as the storm clouds gathered overhead. He tried calling on his discipline as a military officer, his faith in Lord Grindelwald's mission, and his training – but none rose to comfort him. For some reason, in the last hour, he had developed and accepted the idea he was going to die. He had no idea where such grim fatalism was originating from. He had always intended to minimize risk in war and return home to his family in one piece. Preferably with a few medals to impress the ladies.
The sky split open once again and the storm gained in ferocity. The windows rattled audibly as they struggled to keep the storm outside. The captains below him yelled in panic but all he could do was nod comfortably at their reports. And drop an odd comment. The captains looked at him as if he had lost his mind. Some even slapped him to get him back to his senses but he remained at peace.
"Scout team wiped out completely, commander!" Captain 1 yelled.
"The wards are operating at their maximum capacity. The thunderstorm outside might overpower them. We need more energy." Another captain yelled.
"Commander! We have detected a large force outnumbering us 2 to 1 gathering outside the walls!" Somebody else yelled.
"What?! The wards are down already?!" Captain 1 yelled again.
"Commander?! Your orders?!" Somebody yelled.
"Fuck him. Contact HQ and ask them to unleash the weapon. That will teach these rates a lesson." Captain 1 ordered, taking authority away from Mokte. A brief moment of resilience and cheers followed through the team as they realized they might just make it out of there alive.
"DAMNIT! HQ says we are all too close to the blast radius with the civilians. They are sending backup troops. We are to defend the fort at all costs!" Captain 2 said and that caused the room to fall deathly silent. They were all going to die.
Must one always struggle violently against an impending, inevitable death? Mokte scoffed.
Outside the comfy command office, allied troops planned boarding actions against the battlement. Some scouted via brooms, some proposed apparating but the threat of lynching was too high. Morrigan scoffed at these cowards. This was not a moment for a careful siege. The men wanted blood and cared not whence it flowed from. She twirled her wand and remembered an item in her knapsack. A gift Harry had given her before deployment. Something he also had once threatened to kill them both with.
My love. You have such a fun way of life. Morrigan giggled as she cradled the formulated mercury in her hand with a hundred sigils of rage inscribed on it. A special edition just for her. She focused on a battlement before her.
"Cassie." She ordered, "Focus on wrestling the wards for a brief moment. I want that wall exposed more than a Ravenclaw girl on her first beer rush."
Cassie chanted for a brief moment as she focused on the wall before yelling her compliance. Morrigan wasted no time in vanishing a large brick portion of the wall before the wards adapted and cut Cassie out. But this split-second exposure was all Morrgian needed as the cube settled inside the gap before blowing. The structural imbalance caused the wall to flatten in an instant. The troops roared in approval at her action, but Morrigan wasn't done.
She raised her wand once again to the sky and chanted, "Tempestas Fulgur!"
Several powerful bolts of lightning struck the rallying troops, tearing flesh from flesh, and electrocuting the rest. The soldiers pushed on inside the fort at Morrigan's signal.
Command Room
They all pointed their wands as the last of the screaming from the room outside died down. Whoever was in charge of the assault was taking their sweet time with it by making it hurt. The door soon creaked for a bit before obliterating. A tall woman with a deathly pale expression walked inside.
The command staff witnessed the incarnation of death who had obliterated their walls stand in front of them with an innocuous smile. She was covered in blood and dust yet they could all make out the feral beauty of her war aspect. A few let their wands clatter to the ground, knowing they had no chance against the witch. Captain 1 gathered his courage and saluted her.
"Madame. I am Captain Rhyne. Adjutant to Commander Mokte. On behalf of Commander Mokte, I would like to surrender the fort to you. You have won fair and square. Please let us treat our wounded. You may confiscate any number of wands you want." Captain 1.
"Hmmmmmm…." Morrigan audibly hummed and Rhyne almost snorted at the childish display.
"No," Morrigan said.
"No? I beg your pardon, Fraulein. I don't understand." Rhyne said.
"I reject your surrender," Morrigan said.
"But we no longer wish to fight!" Rhyne said.
"Too bad," Morrigan said.
"W- what nonsense is this? Have you taken a leave of your senses, girl? Who even is your command-" Rhyne never got to finish his sentence.
"Crucio" Morrigan said and Rhyne roared in pain till his vocal cords tore alongside his muscles from violent spasm. The last thing he saw was Morrigan's face turn ashen white with cracks of glowing red.
"Bon Appetit, Kraut," Morrigan said and all went black.
Author Notes: Hope you enjoyed this chapter. I have only given a preliminary glance at the grammar. Will fix it early tomorrow. Thank you.
Please don't forget to review. Your comments really motivate me to keep writing. Thanks, and have a great weekend ahead.