Hogwarts' White Lord

Ivan's sudden appearance snapped Moody and the others out of their focused observation.

Fortunately, Ivan did not launch an immediate attack.

Had he done so, the Aurors—momentarily distracted—would likely have been caught off guard, and few would have escaped unharmed.

"Who exactly are you?" Moody demanded, his magical eye narrowing as he scrutinized Ivan.

Moody's attention was drawn to Ivan's current state. The man appeared to be floating effortlessly in midair, his body surrounded by a faint white mist that gave him an almost ethereal presence.

He wasn't using any visible magical items or enchantments to remain airborne, nor relying on his clothing for support.

This realization only deepened Moody's sense of Ivan's extraordinary magical prowess.

"Is it important who I am?" Ivan replied calmly. "Sometimes, knowing too much isn't good for you."

He gestured toward the hired wizards scattered across the battlefield—many unconscious, others severely injured.

The message was clear, and the implicit threat hung heavily in the air.

"Step back," Ivan warned. "I'm here to take back what's rightfully mine."

These words caused Moody and Kingsley to exchange surprised glances.

It was apparent from Ivan's restraint—both in sparing the Aurors and showing mercy to others—that he wasn't acting indiscriminately.

More than that, his knowledge of them suggested familiarity. Ivan was likely someone who knew the British wizarding world well.

As for whether he could be Dumbledore?

He fit the profile in many ways.

However, after this close encounter with Ivan, both Moody and Kingsley silently dismissed the possibility.

There was something about him that didn't align with Dumbledore—something unmistakably different.

Ivan was not Dumbledore. He simply didn't give off the same aura or impression.

On the contrary, although Ivan had concealed much about himself, Moody had still picked up on some subtle details.

For instance, Ivan didn't seem to be as old as he currently appeared.

A student?

Moody speculated.

Is he one of Dumbledore's students?

Or perhaps even a member of the Dumbledore family?

The thought lingered, but Moody quickly dismissed it. He combed through his memory and couldn't recall any other Dumbledore besides Albus and Aberforth.

There was no plausible reason for a new Dumbledore to suddenly emerge.

"What did you take from the vault?" Moody asked, his tone firm but calm.

"That's not something you need to know," Ivan replied coldly.

With a wave of his hand, Ivan signaled for them to step aside as he prepared to leave.

Moody made his decision almost instantly.

There was no need for the Aurors to risk a confrontation with Ivan over goblin property.

After all, Ivan hadn't harmed any ordinary wizards in England or done anything that could expose the magical world.

"Thank goodness," Dawlish muttered under his breath, clearly relieved by Moody's stance.

The other Aurors, equally tense, visibly relaxed.

None of them wanted to imagine what would have happened if Ivan had unleashed another spell like Fire God's Way to clear his path. The potential losses would have been catastrophic.

A wizard as powerful as Ivan was clearly a matter for legends like Dumbledore to handle—not ordinary Aurors.

"A wise decision."

Ivan didn't bother considering whether Moody had guessed at his connection to Dumbledore.

If Moody had his suspicions, so be it.

Ivan's confidence was absolute. If he dared to come to Gringotts, it was because he had nothing to fear.

In England, with his current strength, as long as Dumbledore wasn't his enemy, no one else could truly threaten him.

As for Dumbledore…

How could the old headmaster, who once championed the phrase "for the greater good," truly be considered a gullible kind old person?

To Dumbledore, Ivan represented the greater good.

In his eyes, even if sacrificing the entire Ministry of Magic was required to ensure Ivan's success, it would be worth it.

The old headmaster had long realized that Ivan was dissatisfied with the Statute of Secrecy and that he would likely follow the path of Dumbledore's old companion, Grindelwald.

Yet, instead of stopping him, Dumbledore merely guided him.

The implications were staggering. Breaking the Statute of Secrecy would undoubtedly lead to massive casualties, wizards and Muggles alike.

And still, Dumbledore chose to stand by.

His decision surprised Ivan—not only in its wisdom but in the sheer courage it required.

"What are you doing?!"

Just as Ivan reached an unspoken agreement with the Aurors, a sharp, imperious voice echoed from the distance.

It was a goblin—an elderly figure dressed in a high-standard suit, his authoritative presence unmistakable. This was no ordinary goblin.

"British Aurors are just going to stand by and watch this?" the goblin snapped, his tone laced with disdain. "Fudge, you owe me an explanation!"

This was the Head of Gringotts, the goblin who oversaw all Gringotts operations across Europe.

In the wizarding world, the Minister of Magic might rule over their country, but the Head of Gringotts wielded influence that transcended borders.

In Europe, the Ministers of Magic managed their own territories, but the Head of Gringotts was a figure even they had to treat with the utmost care.

"Don't worry, Sir," Fudge said nervously, trying to placate the goblin.

Fudge knew better than to offend someone of this stature. The Ministry of Magic depended heavily on Gringotts and the goblins to sustain its economy. Without Galleons, the wizarding government would collapse.

Though the goblins couldn't outright cut off the supply of Galleons, they could easily use financial tools to destabilize the wizarding economy, even causing the monetary systems of multiple countries to crumble.

"Alastor!"

After hurriedly apologizing to the goblin, Fudge turned and shouted at Moody, "What are you doing? Hurry up and capture this thief!"

"???"

Moody was stunned. He wanted to ask Fudge a very pointed question: Who exactly is the Minister of Magic in England?

Since when did an old, decrepit goblin start dictating orders to the Minister of Magic?

Moody decided to completely ignore Fudge's ridiculous command.

Fight Ivan?

Moody knew better. If they dared to attack Ivan here, everyone present—including Fudge himself—would be no match for him.

In fact, Moody was silently grateful that Ivan wasn't like Voldemort, a truly evil and malevolent figure.

If Ivan had shared Voldemort's disposition, Fudge's thoughtless provocation would have resulted in their deaths a dozen times over by now.

"Damn it," Fudge growled, frustrated by the lack of response. He shouted again, "Did you hear me? I said capture him!"

This time, even Dawlish, Fudge's most loyal lackey, remained conspicuously silent.

Slowly, Fudge began to realize the gravity of the situation.

When he looked up again, his gaze met Ivan's.

Gasp!

Ivan was staring directly at him, his silver eyes glinting with a cold, piercing light.

It was a gaze so frigid, so unrelenting, that Fudge felt as though he had been plunged into an ice cave.

Instinctively, Fudge took a step back, his knees nearly buckling beneath him. He stumbled and almost fell.

"Minister," a calm voice interrupted.

Fortunately, Rufus Scrimgeour stepped forward, catching Fudge just in time to prevent him from making a spectacle of himself in front of everyone.

"Please stay calm... Something's not right," Scrimgeour said quietly, his tone measured but firm. "Moody and Kingsley—they're among the most skilled of the strike team."

But what was happening now?

They didn't dare fight Ivan.

The meaning behind this was clear and undeniable.

Ivan was a powerful adversary, one the British Ministry of Magic simply couldn't afford to provoke. This was the unspoken judgment of Moody and the others.

"..."

Fudge opened his mouth, as though about to say something, but ultimately held back.

This wasn't the first time Gringotts had been robbed—it had happened more than once or twice before.

While this incident would undoubtedly damage the Ministry of Magic's reputation, Fudge was all too aware that such blows were hardly new.

As the saying went, when you've already got plenty of problems, one more doesn't make much difference.

For now, it seemed the Ministry could tolerate another dent in its already shaky reputation.

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