"You're very rude, darling. I treated you with sincerity. How can you say I kidnapped you?"
Olena's red lips curved slightly, and she lowered her long eyelashes, telling Weilan with a condescending air:
"The reason I killed them was to sacrifice pure-bloods and then gain the favor of Death."
"As for his youngest son, honestly, I don't know how he died. What I needed was a pure-blood sacrifice. That child was adopted by Crouch and was a half-blood."
Weilan was still processing the mysteries involved in these words when Olena threw out another shocking statement:
"The blood of Salazar Slytherin flows in my veins."
All of Weilan's joints stiffened instantly.
She was actually a descendant of Slytherin?!
Weilan no longer thought about Bader's matter but re-examined the Veela before him with a look of awe.
She had long, silvery hair that seemed to float without wind, blue-gold gradient irises, and skin as pure and translucent as moonlight.
She was a pure-blood Veela.
"My ancestors and Slytherin combined, giving birth to half-blood Veela."
"Later, they fled from Britain to the Veela's homeland in Eastern Europe and settled there ever since."
As if knowing what Weilan was curious about, Olena said with a smile:
"But each generation of my ancestors chose to assimilate the human bloodline left by their fathers into the Veela bloodline."
"So I am both a descendant of Slytherin and a pure-blood Veela."
According to Fleur, Veela can only mate with male humans to produce offspring, and if the offspring wants to become a pure-blood Veela again, they need to use magic to assimilate the human bloodline.
Her statement largely matched Fleur's.
"My ancestor, Slytherin, guided me from the depths of his soul to cross mountains and rivers to Britain!"
"He told me that he couldn't bear to see his bloodline so oppressed, so he wanted to share the knowledge and power he left in the world with me."
Olena held her head high, gazing at the sun in the sky, which was obscured by thick clouds and not very bright:
"The Sacred Twenty-Eight pure-blood noble families are magical bloodlines passed down from ancient times."
"Killing these pure-bloods and performing specific ritual magic sacrifices can exchange for the authority of Death."
"With this most powerful ancient authority, I can transform this utterly disappointing world, full of oppression and injustice!"
"My ancestor, Slytherin, actively supported my cause and generously shared much of the knowledge he knew for my success."
"For example, the creation of magic powder, and a small part of the authority of Death—it is with this tiny bit of Death's authority that I gained the allegiance of the Dementors."
"I will use the resources in my hands to leverage more power."
"Only absolute power can cleanse all the filth and defilement in this world!"
Olena spread her arms, and Dementors danced around her. In the bone-chilling cold, her alluring voice, however, called out with a powerful and resonant force:
"I've looked into your information, Costa. You grew up in an orphanage. Have you never suffered injustice? Have you never thought about changing this world?"
The ideal Olena described to him made Weilan's heart stir for a moment.
But he quickly calmed down. He suddenly realized that the person standing in front of him was not a pure idealist.
For her so-called "ideal," she could indiscriminately cast Killing Curses at strangers she didn't know.
More than an idealist, she was like a madwoman, a gambler, a murderer.
Moreover, Slytherin, who guided her, was not some kind Wizard!
"So, what is the purpose of you kidnapping me?"
Although he disagreed deep down, Weilan did not directly verbally deny her but continued to parley, buying time.
"Cooperate with me and offer your magic to me."
The Dementors stopped, bowing their heads behind Olena. She looked down at Weilan, her expression one of unchallengeable determination:
"Circe told me that you carry an ancient 'authority.'"
"Aren't you listening to the call of your ancestor, Slytherin?"
Weilan, with that faint, mocking smile on his face, asked her:
"Who is Circe to you?"
To Weilan's surprise, when he mentioned Circe, the Veela immediately dropped the stubbornness and pride in her eyes and spoke with an extremely respectful and admiring tone:
"She is the Goddess revered by every Veela. She lived in the same era as my ancestor, Slytherin."
"After my ancestor found me, he first guided me to find this Goddess whom all Veela worship, and only then did he gain my trust."
"I can confirm that She is the Circe my mother once told me about."
"Because She simultaneously possesses the authorities of 'Beauty' and 'Healing.'"
"I thought this Goddess was already dead, and so was my mother."
"But She appeared alive and well before my eyes. If it wasn't that powerful medieval Wizard Slytherin who sought me out, then none of this would make sense."
"She was persuaded by me and my ancestor to voluntarily join us, contributing Her authoritative power to me, and at the appropriate time, giving me correct guidance on the path."
"She cannot be wrong. Even if my ancestor makes a mistake, She would absolutely not be wrong, because the Goddess would not harm any Veela."
In Olena's eyes, was "Circe" persuaded by her glib tongue to voluntarily join her?
Weilan felt that there was a logical distortion here.
Things definitely did not unfold as Olena described.
"So." Olena extended her hand to him, "Join me, and you will immediately gain power, just like Crouch."
"In the future, you will gain even more power. In a new world, you will no longer be oppressed and exploited."
Weilan neither refused nor agreed. He pondered for a moment, then suddenly sneered:
"Heh."
"Do you know how Lord Voldemort died?"
Olena frowned in displeasure:
"Who is Lord Voldemort?"
Indeed.
Veela are not common in Britain, at least not now.
And from Olena's words, as well as her surname "Dneprova," Weilan vaguely realized that she came from Eastern Europe.
It was normal for her not to know Lord Voldemort of Britain. Weilan even bet that her understanding of Salazar Slytherin was limited to him being a powerful Wizard.
But the problem was, if she didn't know Lord Voldemort, and didn't understand how Lord Voldemort died back then.
Then why did imitation Horcruxes of Lord Voldemort appear at the scenes of the serial murders she committed outside Hogwarts?
"The conditions you offer certainly have a fatal attraction for me—but I refuse."
Weilan's upturned face still held that faint, mocking smile:
"Because you are just a pawn. You don't have the right to sit at the same table as me and negotiate terms."
A look of annoyance appeared on Olena's beautiful face. The Dementors behind her were eager to approach Weilan.
But she was too slow to act.
"Weilan!"
Accompanied by an old, deep voice, a majestic old man in a silver-gray cloak emerged from the path trampled by Hagrid at the edge of the clearing.
The old man's eyes were closed, yet he could accurately point his wand at Weilan's location.
It was Dumbledore! Weilan had finally held out until he arrived!
Weilan, with his schoolbag, wanted to run towards Dumbledore.
Extreme cold suddenly poured into Weilan's back, and melancholy and pain invaded his mind.
He turned his head and found a Dementor pressed against his back.
This distance was too close. Even under Silver Light Protection, Weilan felt a noticeable emotional impact.
"No..." Weilan struggled to raise his wand, wanting to cast a Patronus.
A silver-white Phoenix Patronus was spreading its wings, flying towards Weilan.
Weilan's feet lost their grip, and he looked down to see his feet rising into the air, his entire body rapidly moving backward.
Missing the Phoenix Patronus just barely.
"Expelliarmus!"
Just as Weilan's right hand trembled, about to summon a Patronus, Olena cast an Expelliarmus, and Weilan's wand flew out of his hand.
Weilan struggled to retrieve his wand, but the Dementor, holding Weilan, glided quickly through the air, swaying him gently before Olena.
Olena extended a slender, jade-like finger and harshly pinched Weilan's cheek.
"You little rascal, I thought you, with your humble background, could understand my good intentions, but I didn't expect you to be a—Ah!"
Weilan abruptly turned his head and bit Olena's finger.
And the moment Olena spoke to Weilan was enough for Dumbledore and the two Aurors to re-locate her by sound, pinpointing Olena's exact position.
"Bombarda Maxima!"
"Reducto!"
"Expulso!"
Dumbledore and the two Aurors seized this opportunity, firing their most powerful attack spells at Olena.
Olena stood still, neither dodging nor evading, meeting these spells with her body.
"Hmph."
Weilan heard Olena laugh scornfully.
