章 407: 0406 The Bar
Rumble—
After Bryan revealed his identity and the contact who introduced him, the Goat once again let out a chilling laugh. Amidst this piercing sound, the earth beneath their feet trembled. Behind the towering spruce, a vast expanse of land came alive in a most unsettling manner. The lush grass, gnarled trees, and twisting vines that had peacefully adorned the forest floor suddenly began to writhe and contort. Their movements were not gentle swaying, but rather a frenzied, almost sentient dance.
Then, as if an immensely powerful hand beneath the earth had grasped them, all the vegetation was pulled underground.
The ground continued to quake relentlessly, the tremors growing in intensity. From the depths of the newly formed pit, a two-story building entirely constructed of rotting wooden planks, "grew" out of the earth!
From the outside, this house looked even more terrifying than the Shrieking Shack in Hogsmeade. Behind the grease-stained, broken windows, countless ghostly shadows flickered, and faint wails of female ghosts could be heard. Under the decaying eaves hung rows of dried bats.
On the gable of the wooden house, a pumpkin vine clinging to the wall had produced a massive pumpkin. As if sensing life approaching, the pumpkin slowly rotated 180 degrees in mid-air. The whole gourd sprouted a grotesque mouth and ghostly eyes. Facing Bryan, its saw-toothed mouth dripped with glistening liquid, resembling saliva.
'Booorring... just a toy to frighten children.'
Bryan just glanced at the pumpkin before losing interest. He leapt over the spruce and slowly approached. Instead of pushing open the door, he walked to a signboard standing next to it.
The signboard, like everything else associated with this place, exuded an aura of decay and malice. Its surface was covered in a thick layer of sickly green mold, giving it the appearance of rotting flesh. At the top, written in what appeared to be fresh blood, were the words:
"Soul Eater's Den!"
Below this gruesome title were posted approximately thirty commission requests. These were not the innocent job listings one might find in a village square, but rather a catalog of dangerous pursuits. Most of the commissions involved trading in materials that would make an ordinary wizard's blood run cold. There were requests for valuable parts from magical creatures, many of which were undoubtedly protected or endangered species. Others sought rare potion ingredients that could only be found in the depths of this primeval forest, ingredients whose uses were surely 'evil'.
There were also some bounties, asking for help in hunting down enemies.
Bryan's eyes scanned the board, but finding nothing that piqued his interest, he soon lost attention.
With a casual push, Bryan opened the door to Soul Eater's Home. The poorly maintained hinges protested loudly, emitting a high-pitched screech that set teeth on edge.
As the door swung open, it revealed an interior that opposed the expectations set by the building's exterior. The house, which appeared to be an inn, was actually more like a bar.
While from the outside, Soul Eater's Home had appeared to be a decaying two-story structure, the space within was far more expansive than seen from outside. The main hall stretched out before Bryan, was fairly spacious about the same size as Leaky Cauldron in London's wizarding district.
However, any similarities to that beloved wizarding pub ended there. Where the Leaky Cauldron was warm and inviting, Soul Eater's Home was a den of depravity and danger. The atmosphere inside was thick with a cocktail of odors so potent and noxious that it seemed almost solid.
The air was filled with various strange odors: the acrid smell of pipe tobacco, the scent of brewing potions, and the stench of rotting animal innards. These odors combined to create a miasma of toxicity that assaulted the senses. Anyone unfortunate enough to breathe this air for an extended period risked more than just discomfort; the complex mixture of magical residues and noxious fumes could potentially disrupt the flow of magic within a wizard's body, leading to disorientation, hallucinations, or even unconsciousness.
The lighting within the hall did little to improve the ambiance. Dim oil lamps flickered erratically, casting long, dancing shadows that seemed to take on lives of their own. The inconsistent illumination made it difficult to focus on any one area for long, adding to the overall sense of unease and disorientation.
Despite the late hour and the remote location, the noisy hall was far from being empty. There were at least a fifty or so lawless individuals with diverse styles of dress. These dark wizards, in groups of two or three, went about their business—trading, arguing, drinking contests, boasting—more or less.
Small groups huddled together, engaged in hushed negotiations over rare and undoubtedly illegal magical artifacts. Others argued loudly, their hands never straying far from their wands as they disputed the terms of contracts or the division of ill-gotten gains.
In one corner, a rowdy drinking contest was underway, the participants drinking concoctions that sparked and smoked ominously. The winner of such a contest was likely to be the one who survived with the least permanent damage to their internal organs.
The moment Bryan opened the door and took his first step into the bar. The previously raucous tavern fell silent instantly. Inquisitive gazes turned towards the doorway, focusing on the figure wearing ordinary black robes but whose face was concealed by a vortex of magical energy.
Bryan frowned, not because he was the center of attention, but because the floor of this bar seemed like it hadn't been cleaned for centuries. The original color of the floorboards could no longer be seen, covered in a mixture of soil, leaves, bloodstains, and grease. These substances had accumulated on the floor like glue, stuck to his shoes.
After shaking off a large chunk of grime from his soles, Bryan adjusted his robes and walked calmly towards the bar counter.
Meanwhile, the customers in the hall continued to scrutinize Bryan. Their prying gazes were filled with malice, and among the whispers, there were laughing sneers.
"What would you like, Mr. Viper—"
The bartender was very tall, and a large crimson scar on his forehead, seemingly left by a burn, made him appear even more dangerous.
Evidently, he had also heard Bryan reveal his identity earlier in front of the Goat Head.
Without waiting for a response, the bartender continued, his tone leaving no room for argument:
"To enter the camp, you must spend at least ten Galleons. Otherwise, you're not welcome here."
The bartender stared coldly at Bryan as he slowly approached the counter, and spoke in a muffled voice.
Bryan heard the bartender's warning but paid no attention to it. His focus was drawn to a figure sitting on a three-legged stool by the back window, brewing a potion in a cauldron in front of him.
The figure hunched over a bubbling cauldron, his focus entirely on the concoction he was brewing. He was one of the few in the hall who had not been disturbed by Bryan's arrival, continuing his work with single-minded determination.
As Bryan's gaze settled on this potion brewer, he found himself unable to discern the man's age. This was not due to any magical spell, but rather because the wizard's entire face, including what remained of his hair, had been horrifically altered by what could only have been a backlash of dark magic.
His facial features were reduced to terrifying, dark red muscle tissue, and his lips seemed to have had a large chunk cut out, exposing black gums and the few remaining yellow teeth.
Of course, this wasn't what attracted Bryan's attention.
The potion brewing in front of this ugly wizard had a mother-of-pearl shine, with spiraling steam rising from the bubbling liquid.
A girl sat on the floor next to the three-legged stool, her body seemingly powerless as she leaned against the ugly wizard's leg.
The girl appeared to be in her late teens, perhaps eighteen or nineteen years old. Her long, chestnut hair cascaded down her back in smooth, shining waves, a stark contrast to the filth and decay that surrounded her. Even in this dimly lit, smoke-filled room, her beauty was undeniable. In fact, the dirty setting seemed to enhance her appeal, making her appear like a captured angel amidst a horde of demons.
The young woman's body was limp as she leaned heavily against the leg of the disfigured wizard cheeks pressed against his thigh. As she gazed up at the hideously deformed face of the potion brewer, her expression was one of utter adoration.
There was no fear in her eyes as she observed the nightmarish face above her. Instead, her gaze held a mixture of longing, devotion, and a desperate need to please. Only in the very depths of her clouded pupils could one detect the faintest glimmer of her true self – a tiny spark of terror and pleading, like a drowning person's last gasp before slipping beneath the waves.
"Oh, come on, baby!"
The potion in the cauldron had finally reached the right consistency. The ugly wizard excitedly scooped out a large amount with a wooden ladle. After sniffing it under his nose, he smacked his lips in satisfaction. Then, with a ferocious grin, he poured it all into the mouth of the girl, whose body contained not a trace of magical power.
"Mmm—"
This love potion was clearly spiked. The struggle in the girl's eyes instantly disappeared. She hugged the ugly wizard's leg, unconsciously making sounds filled with passionate heat.
"Hehehe—"
As the ugly wizard withdrew the ladle, he casually tore off one strap of the girl's floral print dress. Even in the yellow lamplight, a large expanse of skin was revealed, dazzling to the eye. About half of her chest was also exposed.
The ugly wizard's laughter was full of smugness. He tossed aside the wooden ladle, one hand cupping the girl's chin while the other claw-like hand reached to topple her—
"I advise you not to do that in front of me."
The rules of the underworld are generally similar. In such an environment, staring at someone for a long time is a blatant provocation. Except for the ugly wizard immersed in his own world, everyone else had noticed this behavior. They watched the scene with great interest, already anticipating what would happen next.
Only the bartender was unwilling to see this unfold. After Bryan spoke, he immediately warned him again,
"I must remind you, Viper, that anyone who has tried to cause trouble here has, without exception, become fertilizer for the pumpkin. Do you want to end up the same way?"
The bartender's harsh voice did not slow Bryan's steps. He walked steadily to the ugly wizard's side. The gaze behind his magical vortex lowered, glancing at the Muggle girl's hair and features, then settled on the still somewhat surprised face of the ugly wizard. He spoke calmly,
"Otherwise, I'll twist your head off and hang it on the tree outside."
"Are you trying to meddle in others's businesses?"
The ugly wizard's eyes widened, still somewhat stunned. But as he came to his senses, his voice carried obvious mockery and contempt, as if educating a young novice wizard who didn't understand the rules.
"You want to meddle in others's affairs?"
The ugly wizard withdrew his hand reaching for the girl. He stood up from the stool, grinning as he repeated his question, this time again with undisguised sarcasm,
"Who do you think you are? Oh, you're called Golden Viper. I've heard that name before. You have some reputation in the pits of Knockturn Alley, but this is Albania. This is the Soul Eater's Den. Your name might not carry as much weight here. Look behind you, oh, you little fool full of justice—"
The ugly wizard looked at Bryan with pity and said,
"I'll carve your brave but foolish deed on your skull and hang it on the front door as a warning to outsiders—"
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章 408: 0407 Slaughter Time
Bryan turned his head to scan behind him, only to be met with a sea of mocking gazes.
The spectators rose to their feet one by one, their faces filled with amusement. Without a doubt, they had already chosen sides for the impending conflict.
These people, with their cold-blooded nature honed by years of dark deeds and darker magic, typically wouldn't bat an eye at disputes between 'locals.' It was an unspoken rule, a code of conduct in this den. But Golden Viper was an 'outsider,' a brash newcomer who had the audacity, the sheer gall, to waltz in and break their rules on his very first visit. If they didn't teach him a lesson, and a harsh one at that, word would spread like wildfire and The Soul Eater's Den would become a laughingstock.
The tall bartender stared at Bryan with a steely gaze. His voice, as cold and sharp as a blade of ice, cut through the tension-filled air. "Out of respect for Fawley," he growled, each word dripping with barely contained contempt, "Golden Viper—leave all your galleons here, and you can crawl out of here alive."
Across the room, the ugly wizard who had started this whole debacle grinned triumphantly, his yellowed teeth gleaming in the dim light. The sense of urgency that had previously driven him seemed to evaporate like morning dew under a scorching sun. He was no longer in a rush to deal with this clueless fool who had dared to challenge him. Instead, a sadistic gleam entered his beady eyes as he savored the moment, relishing the impending downfall of the arrogant outsider.
With a sneer that twisted his already grotesque features into something truly nightmarish, he grabbed the Muggle girl by her hair, yanking her up from the ground. He then gripped her pale neck, forcing her to look at Golden Viper.
"There's an idiot here who wants to take you away, sweetheart," he crooned, his voice a sickening parody of affection. "Do you want to leave with him?"
"No..." the girl mumbled in a delirious voice, her mind still clouded, her gaze fixed adoringly on the disgusting face before her.
The ugly wizard's face split into a triumphant leer, his grip on the girl's slender waist tightening possessively. "Oh, did you hear that?" he crowed, his voice rising in pitch with malicious glee. "She doesn't want to leave with you!" He pulled the girl closer, her limp form offering no resistance as he manhandled her like a rag doll. With a look of pure malice, he added, his voice dripping with anticipation, "Now, let's watch what becomes of this fool!"
"What brings you here, outsider?" a voice came from behind a wooden partition that divided the hall.
"Well, you see—"
Even though he became the target of public criticism, Golden Viper didn't seem to realize that he was in trouble. His tone even carried a hint of amusement.
"I'm looking for a woman, a Druid, Word is, she was spotted here before, so I came to ask around—"
Before he could finish his explanation, another voice cut through the tense atmosphere. This one came from a burly wizard slouched against the bar, his face half-hidden by a tangled mass of beard.
"Why are you looking for this woman?" he interjected, his tone teasing but with an edge of cruelty. A mean-spirited grin appeared on his face as he added, "Is she your mother?"
The question, laden with mockery, was like a spark in a powder keg. It ignited an explosion of laughter that swept through the bar like wildfire. Many of the patrons laughed so hard that they lost their balance, toppling from their chairs to roll on the dirty floor, clutching their sides. Others slapped their hands against the scarred wooden tables, making glasses and bottles dance precariously.
Even the ugly wizard who had kidnapped the Muggle girl was caught up in the wave of hilarity. In his glee, he accidentally knocked over the vial of love potion that sat on the table before him. But in his amusement, he didn't seem to care, still laughing uproariously and slapping his thigh with such force that it echoed like gunshots in the crowded room.
Amidst the sea of laughter, the tall bartender remained stoic calm. His cold eyes, as hard and unforgiving as chips of ice, remained fixed on Bryan. "You're just embarrassing yourself, Viper—"
"Ah, you stinking lot—" Bryan shook his head resignedly.
For months now, Bryan had been living in the light keeping company with decent, law-abiding folks. It had been quite a while since he had last dealt with these filthy scums who lacked even basic morals. The stark contrast between his recent experiences and the current situation left him feeling somewhat uncomfortable.
As wave after wave of mockery continued to crash over him, Bryan tilted his head slightly, his eyes taking on a distant look as he pondered his next move. For a few seconds, he stood there, still as a statue. Then, he slowly raised his hand to remove the wide black hood from his head. A mane of soft, lustrous gray hair spilled out into the dim air. Unhurriedly, he unfastened the clasp at his neck and draped the black robe over his left arm.
The laughter that had filled the room just moments before had completely evaporated, replaced by a tense silence thick with anticipation and growing unease. Every eye in the place was fixed on Golden Viper, watching his unexpected actions with a mixture of confusion and wariness. In the minds of the onlookers, they were silently speculating what tricks this outsider might be playing.
A series of coughs broke the silence. "Ahem—Cough---Ahem." Bryan cleared his throat, the sound echoing in the hushed room. With each cough, a remarkable transformation seemed to occur – his voice grew younger.
He turned on the spot, his eyes sweeping across the room, observing and cataloging every reaction. Finally, his circuit complete, Bryan faced the ugly wizard who still held the entranced girl in his grasp. For a moment, nothing happened. Then, like a sandcastle being washed away by the incoming tide, the magical vortex that had been concealing his true features began to dissipate.
As the last wisps of magic faded away, they revealed a face that sent shockwaves through the room.
Silence—
The raucous laughter that had filled the bar just moments ago had died completely, replaced by a silence so deep it seemed to absorb all sound. The only noise to be heard was the increasingly heavy breathing of the bar's occupants as the full impact of what they were seeing sank in.
The ugly wizard, his face a mask of shock and dawning horror, involuntarily released his grip on the Muggle girl. His hand fell limply to his side, trembling uncontrollably as if afflicted by a palsy. His eyes, previously narrowed in cruel amusement, now widened to the point where they seemed in danger of popping out of his head. His lipless mouth worked silently for a moment before managing to emit a strange, strangled sound – "Ah... ah..."
The name that was on everyone's mind, the name that no one dared to speak aloud, hung in the air like an undetonated explosive: Bryan Watson!
It was the tall bartender who finally broke the paralyzing silence. His terrified roar from behind the counter made the glasses on the shelves rattle ominously. "Run!" he roared, his voice cracking with fear. "Golden Viper is Bryan Watson! He doesn't want to leave anyone alive!"
The words had barely left his mouth when chaos erupted.
BOOM!
In that instant, the entire bar shook violently as if struck by a bolt of lightning from the heavens. The floorboards groaned, dust rained down from the ceiling, and glasses toppled from shelves to shatter on the floor. But no one paid any attention to the destruction – they were too busy trying to save their own skins.
Panic gripped the room's occupants, each reacting in their own desperate way to the sudden, terrifying turn of events. Some made a frantic dash for the exit, shoving and clawing at each other in their haste to escape. Others, perhaps realizing that the door would quickly become a deadly bottleneck, turned their wands on the walls. Blasts of magic erupted from their wands as they attempted to create their own escape routes.
A brave (or foolish) few turned to face Bryan, hurling powerful dark magic in his direction. Jets of sickly green light and writhing tendrils of darkness cut through the air, aimed at Bryan. Others, perhaps lacking confidence in their spell-casting abilities, resorted to more mundane methods of attack. They made throwing motions with their arms, launching vials of vicious potions through the air.
Still others released their magical creature familiars – vicious beasts driven by dark magic and their masters' will. As soon as their paws, claws, or tentacles touched the ground, they snarled and snapped, their eyes fixed hungrily on Bryan as they prepared to pounce.
For a moment, it seemed as though Bryan would be overwhelmed by the sheer volume of attacks heading his way. But then...
Hum!
The sound was soft, almost imperceptible amidst the chaos, but its effects were anything but subtle. From the center of the chaotic bar hall, where Bryan stood calm and unmoving, a tangible wave of magical energy erupted. It swept outward with the unstoppable force of a thunderbolt, faster than the eye could follow.
As the wave of energy passed over them, every person, creature, and object in its path froze instantly. It was as if time itself had stopped, trapping everything and everyone in its grip. They stood motionless, suspended in mid-action like insects caught in amber. Only their eyes, wide with fear and confusion, showed any sign of life or awareness.
In the sudden, eerie silence that followed, the soft sound of footsteps could be heard.
Tap, tap, tap—
After a moment's consideration, Bryan turned and began to walk back towards the bar counter pushing aside glass shards suspended in the air.
As he approached the bar, he saw that the bartender had already leapt onto the counter. The man's massive body was frozen mid-dive towards the door, his center of gravity already beyond the edge of the bar. It was a position that, under normal circumstances, would have sent him crashing to the floor. But trapped in the grip of Bryan's spell, he hung there, defying gravity, unable to complete his escape.
With a casual flick of his wand, Bryan levitated the bartender's body from the counter. He rotated the large man in mid-air before gently lowering him to the floor, leaving him in an awkward position, face-up on the grimy floorboards.
Bryan knelt beside the prone figure, his eyes locking with the bartender's bulging orbs. In those eyes, he could read a whirlwind of emotions: fear at being at the mercy of such a powerful wizard, bitter regret for the choices that had led him to this moment, desperate pleading for mercy, and a faint glimmer of hope – hope that he might be able to trade information for his life.
But unfortunately for the bartender, Bryan didn't need him to speak.
In the dim bar hall, an eerie transformation began to take place. Two purple moons slowly rose in Bryan's eyes, their strange, heavy light seeming to pulse with an otherworldly power. As the bartender stared into those alien orbs, he felt the last remnants of his will being stripped away. The purple glow extinguished all emotion in his eyes, leaving them as blank and empty as a doll's.
Bryan delved deep into the violently extracted memories, sifting through the bartender's experiences as easily as one might flip through the pages of a book. A series of frozen images flashed rapidly before his mind's eye, each one a snapshot of the bartender's recent past. One day, two days, three days... the memories flowed backwards through time like a river running in reverse.
Until, about ten days into the past, Bryan's mental gaze froze. The rapid flow of images slowed to a crawl as he focused intently on a particular memory.
A woman had appeared in the Soul Eaters' Den on that day. But it wasn't Cliodna, the Druid that Bryan had been seeking.
Instead, the memory revealed a fat middle-aged witch dressed in what could only be described as normal, respectable clothes. She stood out like a sore thumb in the den of immorality.
She looked slightly confused, her brow furrowed and her eyes darting nervously around the room. It was clear that she was unsure of why she was there. But that uncertainty quickly gave way to fear as she took in her surroundings. The room was filled with the kind of individuals that haunted the nightmares of law-abiding citizens – dark wizards with cold eyes and cruel smiles, hags with gnarled hands and razor-sharp teeth, and creatures that defied easy classification.
What happened next was as predictable as it was horrifying. The witch, her face now a mask of terror, tried to leave in a panic. Her sudden movement drew every eye in the place, like predators sensing wounded prey. She fumbled for the door handle with her trembling hands but it was already too late.
In this lawless place, any sign of weakness was like blood in the water, and the denizens of the Soul Eater's Den were nothing if not sharks. Before the witch could reach the exit, she found herself restrained by a group of dark wizards who had moved with supernatural speed to intercept her.
Rough hands grabbed her arms, spinning her around to face the room. The witch's terrified whimpers were drowned out by the low, menacing chuckles that rippled through the crowd. The dark wizards examined their captive, their eyes roving over her body with a mixture of curiosity and malice. It was clear from their expressions that they were pondering how best to deal with this unexpected intruder, and none of the possibilities that flashed across their faces boded well for the unfortunate witch.
Just as the situation seemed to take an even darker turn, something unexpected happened. From an inconspicuous corner of the bar, a figure stirred. This newcomer had been so still, so unremarkable, that they had faded into the background, overlooked by everyone present. Now, as they rose to their feet, all eyes turned to them.
The figure was draped in an ordinary cloak, their head tightly wrapped in a scarf that obscured their face. Before anyone could react, before a single spell could be cast or a single threat uttered, the mysterious figure made their move. With a gesture so swift it was almost imperceptible; they conjured a grapevine staff out of thin air.
The tip of the staff erupted in a burst of emerald light so bright it momentarily blinded everyone in the room. As the patrons of the Soul Eater's Den blinked the spots from their eyes, they saw that a transformation had taken place.
The newcomer's cloak had fallen away, revealing elegant attire that seemed to shimmer with an inner light. But it was her hair that drew every eye in the room. Long, silky strands of green cascaded from beneath the scarf, flowing like living vines. The green tresses seemed to glow with an ethereal light, casting dancing shadows on the walls of the den.
The cold moon, full and luminous, had finally climbed to the center of the night sky, bathing the scene in its silvery light.
But the tranquility of the moonlit forest was shattered by a raging inferno. A massive fire had engulfed what appeared to be a building, its flames reaching so high they turned half the sky an angry, flickering white.
From within the all-consuming flames came the muffled sound of exploding walls and beam, along with faint, shrill screams.
In the firelight, the Muggle girl, kneeling on the ground dozens of feet away, finally regained a glimmer of clarity in her dazed eyes. The girl's mouth opened slightly, a look of stunned disbelief on her face as she stared at the intense flames. Slowly, as if in a trance, she struggled to her feet. Though not fully conscious, her instincts were beginning to kick in, and those instincts were screaming at her to run from the terrifying inferno before her.
She stumbled backward, her movements uncoordinated and jerky. In her dazed state, she failed to notice a stone protruding from the forest soil. Her heel caught on it, and with a startled cry, she tumbled backward.
"Ouch!" The sharp cry of pain cut through the night air as she landed hard on her backside. The sudden jolt and the spike of pain it caused served to further clear the fog from her mind. Grimacing, she struggled to push herself up, her hands scrabbling in the dirt and leaves of the forest floor.
As she fought to regain her feet, her gaze drifted upward, drawn almost against her will to a massive spruce tree that loomed nearby. What she saw there caused her newly cleared mind to freeze in horror.
Impaled on crude stone spears and nailed to the trunk of the ancient spruce were... heads. But these were no ordinary trophies of some mad hunter. These were human heads, or what remained of them. Each one had been charred beyond recognition, the flesh blackened and cracked, barely clinging to the skull beneath.
Despite the extensive damage, the faces of the deceased were still horribly recognizable as human. Their features were frozen in expressions of terror, seemed to be the final testament to the horror they had experienced in their last moments of life.
The sight was too much for the young girl's fragile psyche to handle. A piercing scream tore from her throat, filled with all the fear and horror that had been building since she first regained consciousness. The sound echoed through the forest, drowning out even the roar of the nearby inferno.
In a nearby Muggle village, the scream did not go unnoticed. Residents who had been preparing to battle what they assumed was a simple forest fire quickened their pace.
Among the towering trees standing in neat rows, two points of deep purple light vanished into the deep darkness.
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