the lost castle

The feeling of the Portkey is very bad, unlike Apparition, the limbs are completely useless, being pulled by the body and thrown into the rapidly spinning void, wizards with slightly weaker magic power can be tossed and dizzy.

Trying his best to control this difficult state, almost as soon as he landed, Ling Cha tightened his cloak.

Very good, the feeling of using the Portkey for the second time is also not pleasant. Before, he thought it was because Salazar was holding Mia that made the experience of using the Portkey so embarrassing for the first time. Now he understands that everything does not belong to him Behavior under the control of magic power does not seem to be pleasant.

This is a wasteland of bare stone weathered.

It was so windy that it was almost impossible to see anything more than a few feet away.

This is the Roderick Moor in northern England where the Nyx family and the Avalon family used to live. It is full of very old megalithic sacrificial buildings. The poor and wandering Muggles here have passed down from generation to generation, surrounded by dense and lush forests. The lake is hidden deep in the wilderness, where gods who can see the future live.Of course, keep awe and respect. This is also the place where England's oldest legends about curses are held.

It's just that these glories belong to the past. In fact, the Avalon family that really had the blood of the prophecy disappeared 600 years ago.

The prophesied bloodline only exists in the lineage of the descendants of the Nix family and the Duke of Xia Zuo through marriage. Unfortunately, the Nix family will completely end in this generation. Ling Cha has not yet figured out what he knows. In that story-like future, how could the descendants of Slytherin not know that they have the talent of both curse and prophecy.The former is very weird. It can be seen from the fact that Voldemort is so stupid to waste his blood talent to curse Hogwarts' Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. He doesn't understand and can't use the Nyx curse. Room for the white wizard savior to jump around.As for the prophecy, it's even more weird. At least Ling Cha didn't find that he and Salazar had such a tendency for bloodline talent. Don't say that he knows what will happen in 1000 years. Such a ridiculous conclusion has nothing to do with prophecy It doesn't matter.

Except—it's not like a place where no one lives.

There is a magic barrier.

When he arrived here via the Portkey, it was obvious that some kind of magic had been triggered, and if there was no miscalculation, there would be soon...

"Stop!! Stop right there, wand... ouch—"

A sharp and dry voice seemed to come out of the ground, but it was a pity that the owner of the voice had not had a chance to finish his sentence before he was thrown upside down by a spell and fell heavily on a huge weathered rock.

Slytherin would not allow anyone (or creature?) who appeared suddenly to come within ten steps of him.

"Oh—dammit, stop! stop!!"

The gray-black suspected ball that was smashed on the rock jumped up desperately, waving its hands and feet angrily:

"You have trespassed into the realm of the great Ragnark's boon!"

A few feet tall, with long ears, ugly and pointed face, waving slender fingers and clamoring, raised his chin high, and said with an angry and proud expression:

"Get out of here, man with the wand!"

This name...

It seems that they are indeed goblins, those magical creatures who value treasure more than dragons. The point is that they are much more numerous than dragons. I don’t know who gave the goblin the idea of ​​opening a bank hundreds of years later. , let them live intoxicated with self-satisfaction with all the Galleons in the wizarding world.

"You don't have permission! Get it? Permission!!"

A necklace made of white crystals hung on the neck of the gray-skinned goblin, and it was swinging up and down with its angry movements. Of course, this looked very deliberate, as if it was showing off on purpose.

Pale and slender fingers unconsciously fumbled for the wand under the cloak.

No way, it's too much of an eyesore.

A gray-black skinned, ugly-looking man with contemptuously slanted eyes, wearing a dress that seemed to be stolen from a noble Muggle child, half of the lace and lace had fallen off, and the rest was so dirty that it was hard to see the original clothes. So much so that Duke Slytherin's first reaction as a wizard was to touch the wand, forgetting that he could do magic without a wand.

"Here, you are not allowed to step in, now, immediately, immediately, leave here!"

The little goblin was suspended in mid-air, but it didn't realize it. It still proudly raised its chin and waved its arms. He felt better and better about himself because of the gradually rising field of vision:

"Otherwise, you will pay for Raignac's anger—"

The whole body was finally thrown horizontally, and the word "price" was still stuck in the throat and dragged out a long tone.

A group of guys who are crazier than house elves—the Duke of Slytherin walked all the way into the depths of the wasteland, and at the "price" of throwing 27 goblins away, they finally got a temporary peace. Behind the weathered rocks, whispers are all about exquisite magic items worn by visitors from far away.

The only thing they love more than Gallon is gorgeous and exquisite craftsmanship. In this era, apart from the things made by goblins themselves, there are only alchemy products refined by brilliant wizards.

"It looks so perfect."

"What a powerful magic power..."

Don't doubt, goblins don't have normal aesthetics, well, they do, it's because they are not interested in humans.

"If my king Raignac can have those exquisite gadgets, I swear that I will be able to create something better than the previous sword."

The goblins were lying on the ground, moving from one stone to another in an endless stream, gesticulating:

"Oh wizard, I hate these people with wands!"

"Damn it, who couldn't resist rushing over, that gold locket that looks so beautiful is mine!!"

Countless goblins rushed out of the shelter of the rock, and half of them had wrestled with each other.Those who choked their necks and pulled their hair, they punched and kicked so excitedly that they didn't even bother to see if those poor companions who broke their bones were still alive.

The wilderness is boundless, and the scattered sand and stones rolled up by the strong wind can uproot the fragile trees, so there are no green plants here, and the surroundings are nothing but vast.

Under the cloak, the young wizard with black hair and green eyes turned his head slightly.

Behind them was a group of indomitable goblins who were fighting each other and clamoring to snatch the treasure.

As the sky was approaching dawn, he silently took out the gray cover and blessed eight black magic diaries.

"Tell me, when will we be able to find the eleven potion ingredients that are found in the wasteland and used to make soul potions?"

The rising sun on the wasteland is powerless and hazy.

Well, at least until all the potion ingredients are found, the deadly poison can't be spilled casually.

Unless they want to stay here and keep looking.

Soon Ling Cha discovered that he had guessed wrongly. The wizard family in this wasteland might no longer exist, but those equally ancient magical creatures happily occupied this land and lived well.

For example, the group of dark, gloomy and cold things floating in the sky along the strong wind, looking very much like rotting rag bags from a distance, they dangled and flew over the goblins who were constantly fighting, and hovered there, absorbing the white Filament.But those goblins only started to move slowly, and the sound of cursing and arguing disappeared. Once the dementors flew away, they began to punch and kick excitedly again.

Dementors are hungry, in this day and age of war, hunger and despair.To maintain a group, they must have a fixed amount of food, and the people who came up with the good idea of ​​letting them serve as prison guards are also very great, but now there is no Azkaban, and they cannot afford to be provoked by powerful wizards, so they have to survive This is near the largest goblin tribe in the northern wilderness, because goblins will forget all their joy and happiness as long as they pick up gold coins. Making perfect things and having more wealth without even the darkest mood of despair...

The well-fed dementors seized the unexpected plentiful and delicious food and started their reproduction. A large amount of fog filled the air. The dark and humid air moisture obviously brought a strange vitality to the wasteland besides the ominous coldness. Miracle.

Yes, even Slytherin looked in astonishment at the needle-like plants that suddenly popped out from the gaps or deep edges of the boulders. They were all plants living in the anomaly of water shortage, and there were many rare potion ingredients among them. And their rapid growth in the water mist quickly made all the creatures in the wasteland mobilize.The little things that gnawed on these plants crawled out of their nests one after another, and then the predators also appeared, and the wasteland was already very lively for a while.

The dementors also seemed excited. They had already pounced on the goblins who had been flung and groaned by Slytherin before. Amid the pitiful screams of the group of hapless ghosts, they stuck their heads out of their hoods, grabbed their prey with their rotten palms, Start kissing and devouring souls.

The goblins who are still wrestling don't care about their compatriots. They are a selfish race, or their values ​​are very weird. They don't bother to pay attention to things that have nothing to do with wealth.

And this group of dementors are obviously very intelligent, at least they are not the kind of idiots who will only jump when they see food. They just absorb joyful emotions and have no intention of kissing the fighting goblins. Here it is dangling and floating up and down in a circle, as if it is very clear about the reason for today's big meal.

And so the Duke of Slytherin found himself being thanked stiffly by a group of dementors.

After standing still for a full 10 minutes, Ling Cha finally couldn't help but cast the Flying Curse on a clump of thorny noctiluca that had just bloomed, and by the way grabbed a very rare blue-tailed spotted scorpion that had climbed onto the grass. into the bag.Although collecting the potion in this way would damage the materials, caution was necessary. It was impossible for him to bend down and give up his guard when facing dozens of dementors.

The floating broken sacks condensed in the mid-air. They seemed to have finished breeding, but they started to get close to the ground in abnormal behavior. Just around the potion that Lingcha had just obtained, a lot of damp and cold breath was emitted. The noctilucent grass began to grow densely, and more spotted scorpions began to happily crawl out of the underground caves.

Ling Cha, well, he could only watch silently as the black cloth bag floated in the air and flew away with the wind.

His usually expressionless face twitched unconsciously.

He never knew that dementors were so... interesting.

Looking around, it seems that there are quite a few potion materials that will be used, whether it is moving or flowers and plants. This kind of temptation, for trying to bring all the potions that may be used, but there is no other way but there are books magic Item family treasures are a bunch of things taken away by the fortress, so Slytherin, who is short of potions and whose original goal is to make soul potions, is obviously an irresistible temptation.

"Maybe it's a good idea to stay here?"

The night receded, and the daylight dispelled the cold and gloom of the wasteland.

The quill began to write on the next line of the word, and there was a faint smile on the lips under the cloak:

"I think so."