Hogwarts: I graduated before the system came

"Let us sit and breathe? Mr. Lupin, we respect you, but Greyback will not be scared away by the sound of our heartbeats! What we need is a fight, a way to tear him apart!"

"That's right!" "We need strength!" echoes rose everywhere.

Lupin didn't get angry, but just looked at him quietly and asked, "Are you angry?"

"Of course!"

"Then release it, on me," said Lupin calmly.

Bach was stunned for a moment, then his eyes became fierce, he growled, his muscles tensed instantly, and a violent aura exploded.

However, just as he was about to pounce, Lupin's figure seemed to disappear from his sight.

Lupin simply closed his eyes, and his breath became long and steady, like a silent mountain.

The man's anger was like hitting a ball of cotton, with nowhere to vent.

He could feel that Lupin was there, but he couldn't sense any position to attack. The feeling made him feel extremely suffocated, as if he had thrown a punch but hit nothing.

Lupin opened his eyes again, glanced at the stunned crowd, and said in a steady voice:

"I'm not trying to take away your anger, I'm trying to teach you how to put a crosshair on it."

"Under normal circumstances, werewolves have human fragility, but this doesn't mean we've lost the power of beasts. After all, that power comes from our blood."

"And what I want to teach you is to become its master, to make it fight for your will, and not let it be delayed by anger."

He did not teach any fighting techniques, nor did he impart any offensive magic.

He asked the tall werewolves to sit cross-legged and close their eyes.

"Feel your heartbeat."

"Listen to the sound of blood flowing through your veins."

“When anger wells up, when fear seizes your heart, don’t let it control you.”

“Listen, feel, and then…slow it down.”

Chapter 408: A Drop of Lupin's Blood, a Deadly Bait

Lupin demonstrated it himself first.

He closed his eyes and let his breathing become long and steady, like a silent mountain.

Gradually, the dangerous aura of a werewolf began to emanate from his body, but the other party clearly did not transform into a werewolf, nor did he roar in anger.

If you just look at him, you will just think that there is an ordinary, even a little frail man sitting there.

The children gathered around curiously, not daring to make a sound.

They watched their fathers and uncles clumsily imitate Lupin's movements.

Some werewolves had frowns on their faces and were breathing rapidly, clearly unable to control their inner violence.

Some were sweating profusely, their bodies trembling slightly, as if they were wrestling with another self.

Lupin was extremely patient.

He would walk up to the most anxious werewolf and gently place his hand on his shoulder.

“Don’t fight it, go with it.”

“Anger is power, but it’s not everything. Imagine a river. Instead of damming it, you dig a channel to guide it to where it should flow.”

His words were spoken with a calmness that came from personal experience.

This calmness is more powerful than any harsh order.

Instead of calming down, the manic werewolf growled, a red light flashed in his eyes, and the muscles on his arms instantly knotted!

"A river? I just want to build a dam! Block the damn thing off forever!"

He punched the rock wall next to him hard, and gravel flew everywhere.

The children huddled together in fear.

Lupin did not retreat, but took a step forward, his voice still calm:

"A blocked river will only become a destructive flood. You've tried, haven't you? Every full moon night, the dam breaks."

He looked the other person straight in the eyes.

"Don't be afraid of it. Feel it, feel the power flowing through your veins. It's not your enemy, it's a part of you. Now, try to tell it where you want to take it."

Marco stood aside, watching in silence.

For the first time, he realized that this fellow from Britain was not teaching them how to fight.

It's about teaching them how to be human again.

They have been away from normal human society for too long, and have lived in the mountains for a long time, so their animal nature is greater than their human nature.

The highest level of power is not release, but control.

These words echoed heavily in Marco's mind.

At the same time, Marco demonstrated the majesty and efficiency of a leader.

He reorganized all the tribesmen who were still able to move.

The ten most agile young men who were most familiar with the terrain formed a scout team.

Their mission is not to fight, but to be messengers in the wind.

Several other calm middle-aged werewolves are responsible for communication and defense within the tribe.

The remaining core warriors gathered their strength and stayed deep in the cave as the last bastion.

Everything is in order.

Marco called the captain of the scout team to his front.

"Remember, your mission is not to fight, but to spread the news, like dandelion seeds, to every corner of the mountains."

He spread out a map made of animal skin, on which were marked several special locations.

"This is the valley frequented by the lone wolf Grizz. He hates all of his kind who live in groups."

"This is the secret market of the goblin smugglers. Their news is faster than the wind."

"And here..."

He pointed to a place marked with a red crescent moon.

"The Red Moon Brotherhood's outer outposts. If the news reaches their ears, it's like delivering it to their leader's desk."

The scout captain nodded heavily.

"What news to spread, Chief?"

Marco glanced at Douglas not far away and said in a deep voice.

"Just say that the Ember Claw has found hope."

"A man named Remus Lupin has arrived here, and he is being cured of the werewolf curse."

"The wizard who can perform miracles will protect us."

This message is simple and direct, yet it carries a fatal temptation.

This is good news for all werewolves struggling in the darkness.

To some high and mighty beings, this is a provocation.

"and many more."

Douglas' voice suddenly rang out.

He came over from the corner and everyone's eyes were on him.

“Spreading words is not enough.”

Douglas's voice was low and clear.

"To a beast like Greyback, smell speaks louder than words."

He took out a small crystal bottle from the inner pocket of his robe.

The bottle was crystal clear in the firelight, and inside, there was only a drop of dark red blood.

The drop of blood was suspended in the bottle and did not fall, surrounded by an almost invisible, faint energy halo.

It's Lupin's blood.

"I used magic to enhance the 'message' in this drop of blood."

Douglas handed the crystal bottle to the scout captain.

"Whenever you go to a place to spread the news, dip a pine needle in it and apply a little bit to the mark where only wild animals can find it."

"He'll smell his 'work.'

Douglas's eyes turned cold.

"You can even smell that the curse in your blood that was supposed to be eternal... is fading."

"It'll drive him crazy."

Marco's pupils shrank suddenly.

He instantly understood Douglas's intention.

This is no longer a rumor, it's a piece of information.

This is a declaration of war.

It was a direct, olfactory denial and challenge to Fenrir Greyback's identity as the source of the plague.

This hurt his twisted soul more than ten thousand insults.

The scout captain's hands were trembling slightly as he took the crystal bottle.

It seemed as if he was holding not a bottle of blood, but a barrel of explosives with infinite power that was about to be ignited.

The scouts took the order and left. Their figures soon disappeared at the end of the rugged mountain road.

Temporary peace returned to the cave.

Douglas was not idle.

He cleared a space in a corner of the main cave and built a temporary battlefield workshop.

He did not take out the crucible and rare medicinal herbs.

What he took out from that magical pocket were whetstones, small silver files, mineral powders of various colors, a bundle of leather strips engraved with fine runes, and so on.

He asked the warriors of the tribe to bring over their rusty weapons.

Some were axes for chopping wood, some were hunters' short knives, and there were even a few hardwood spears with sharpened tips.

These weapons are rough and simple, but full of the breath of life.

Not all werewolves have undergone formal magic training, and magic wands are a luxury for them.

He called together some old men who had experience in magic and began to teach.

Douglas picked up a wood-chopping axe and placed it on the grindstone.

"Hiss - hiss -"

The sound of grindstone scraping against steel echoed monotonously in the cave.

Chapter 409 You are my soldiers, my people!

Douglas did not use magic to make the axe blade sharp instantly. Instead, he polished it bit by bit in the most primitive way like an old-school blacksmith.

His movements were focused and steady, as if he was not preparing for a battle but completing a work of art.

When the axe blade flashed with a cold light again, he took out a set of stone mortar and pestle similar to those used to grind spices.

"Every substance has its own properties and flavors. Silver, being cold, can curb the frenzy of wolves. But pure silver is too strong and easily breaks at the edge, making it deadly salty."

As he spoke, he poured a pinch of silver powder into the stone mortar and added a few drops of sticky dragon blood.