Seeing Dracula so close, Ronan suddenly drew a dagger from his waist and lunged towards his heart.
Dracula's eyes flickered slightly as he extended his left hand, lazily flicking the dagger with his fingers.
The sturdy dagger, meticulously crafted by the centaurs, clashed with Dracula's long, pale fingers as if a wooden plank had struck steel. The dagger first developed a web-like crack and then shattered into pieces, leaving only the handle in Ronan's hand.
Ronan was startled, instinctively wanting to retreat and escape Dracula's attack range.
Dracula took a step forward, swiftly closing the distance between himself and Ronan. He grabbed Ronan's neck firmly.
In the next moment, a pair of large, black wings, supported by sharp bones, unfolded from Dracula's back, casting a wide shadow on the snow-covered ground.
The wings flapped, stirring up a chilling wind that lifted both Dracula and Ronan off the ground. Dracula tightened his grip on Ronan's neck, revealing a sinister smile with sharp side teeth and blood-red eyes!
"So… you're a vampire… I didn't misjudge you after all…" Ronan struggled to speak, his voice hoarse and barely audible.
The wind swirling around them lifted the snow from the ground, creating a vortex that shattered the morning mist, obscuring Dracula's appearance and Ronan's panic while disrupting Hagrid's and the centaurs' line of sight.
In the wake of the vortex, Dracula flew forward, disregarding any obstacles in his path. In an instant, several thick trees in the Forbidden Forest were snapped and crashed heavily to the ground with deafening sounds!
It wasn't until they reached an open area devoid of trees that Dracula stopped, dropping Ronan onto the ground as if discarding trash.
"I've been displeased with you centaurs for a long time," Dracula said as he descended from the air and looked coldly at Ronan, "I never understood how the centaur tribe can be so arrogant. Living under the wizards' protection but still thinking highly of themselves, believing they can remain aloof."
"Cough, cough… You will be punished!" Ronan covered his bruised neck, coughing violently, with blood spilling from his mouth.
"I won't. Only the weak face retribution," Dracula said, folding his dark wings and crouching down, "Didn't you notice? During our flight, I put several shields around you just to prevent your frail body from perishing easily."
"Who gave you the arrogance, if not your own frail body and lack of magical prowess? The stars in the sky? Look closely, the vampire you despise is the one standing over you now, and the Forbidden Forest, which your tribe relies on, has belonged to me as my private domain for a millennium!"
Ronan's eyes widened, and he recalled a legend passed down in his tribe for over a century—
In 1811, the then-Minister of Magic, Grogon Stump, defined "human" in a new way. The magical society agreed to include wizards, Muggles, as well as fairies, vampires, hag, giants, house-elves, sirens, and human-shaped werewolves in this category.
However, centaurs and merpeople refused to share the term "human" with vampires and hags, so they chose to be classified as "beasts."
These two high-minded tribes soon paid the price—
The legend says that after the meeting defining "human" and "beast," a powerful vampire, deeply disgusted by this self-righteous behavior, single-handedly invaded the territories of the centaurs and merpeople.
He didn't care about the full-force assault from the two tribes, easily breaking through their encirclement, and quietly reached the leaders of the two tribes. Even the merpeople hiding deep in the lake could not escape the fate.
No one knew exactly what happened, but after the encounter, the leaders of both tribes, besides their own characteristics, developed the traits of a vampire—bloodsucking, fear of sunlight, aversion to garlic…
It seemed that the vampire lord was giving them a choice. If their leaders became the vampires they despised, would the two tribes silently accept it or completely abandon their leaders?
"Cough, cough, are you Count Dracula?!" Ronan asked in horror.
"It seems that even after more than a hundred years, my story hasn't been completely forgotten," Dracula said with a light laugh.
"Cough, so what? We centaurs would rather die than associate with your half-dead evil beings!"
Ronan, with his brown-red horse body lying in the snow, struggled weakly, unable to stand up, looking quite pitiful.
Yet, he continued to cough up blood while resolutely refusing to align with vampires. He was prepared to repeat the fate of the centaur leader from over a century ago who had taken his own life under the stars.
At that moment, a series of chaotic and loud footsteps approached from the distance.
More centaurs surrounded them, including not only male centaur warriors but also many female centaurs with their upper bodies exposed and elderly centaurs.
They all held bows of various lengths, nervously drawing their strings and aiming at Dracula, their knuckles turning white as if these outdated weapons could give them a sense of security against Dracula.
"Are you mobilizing everyone?" Dracula, with his arms crossed, looked at the scene with a half-smile.
"Release Ronan, evil creature!" The dark-skinned Bane stepped forward, shouting, "If anything happens to him, we will use all our clan's power to purify you!"
"Ha, still the same as back then, you wish to exterminate the whole tribe?" Dracula smirked, indifferent.
"Bane, don't worry about me. Get out of here quickly!" Ronan, lying on the ground, now aware of Dracula's identity, urgently called out to Bane, not wanting his tribe to face another failure like a hundred years ago.
Bane looked at him in confusion, about to say something, when a massive figure, panting heavily, forced a path through the centaur crowd and reached Bane's side.
"Bane, can't you centaurs understand human speech?!" the figure exclaimed, "I told you, this is Professor Dracula, the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts. He has nothing to do with the unicorn's death; it's all a misunderstanding!"