章節 68: Black's reception. Part Two
Dear guests,
On behalf of the illustrious Black family, I would like to express my deepest gratitude to each and every one of you for gracing us with your presence tonight at this extraordinary event that our family has organized. This celebration holds immense significance and is a truly momentous occasion for all the Blacks!
Orion's voice resonated with a sense of gravitas, but following the incident involving myself, Maria, and the Malfoys, a significant portion of the room was not receptive to the former Lord Black's address, although none in the room, save for Greengrass, was aware of his retirement. Now, those guests who had managed to overhear our earlier exchange were feverishly engaged in reevaluating their plans for the evening and seeking opportunities to make introductions to Mary. The only avenue for this was through the Blacks, who had extended invitations to us all.
Lord and Lady Malfoy, prior to their discovery of Maria's true identity, were able to disregard social conventions and approach us unaccompanied by a suitable intermediary, someone who knew us well enough to introduce them. Now that my companion's true status has been revealed, it has become evident to all that she is superior to anyone and anything, from her power, lineage, position, and influence in the political arena to the point that it is inappropriate to even mention her age, which is practically the same as that of Flamel, a well-known figure on the islands.
This is because, over the past century in England, there has been an active group of inquisitors operating here, under the control of a demon I am seeking. They have been conducting their operations through the agency of Nicholas, using his face and title as the "Immortal Master".. Now, all those who had come to realise who he was at Black's soirée felt the same acute emotions as a mouse trapped in a serpent's lair with no means of escape. These gentlemen found it both extremely difficult and deeply alarming to accept the reality that they were insignificant, their social standing worthless in the eyes of Mary, who could easily dismiss them at her whim. The best outcome would be for nothing to happen to her, leaving them in a state of utter helplessness, akin to being maggots!
And so it was that most of those who had been present when Maria lashed out verbally at the Malfoys felt. But there were others who not only felt literally paralysed with fear, but also heard, and extracted from the exchange between Maria and Abraxas, highly ambiguous statements about the generally accepted historical record. It is not a secret to any member of the English gentry, whose history extends back more than five centuries, that the Malfoy family was cursed with only one heir three centuries ago.
To establish and confirm this fact requires no seven-fingered insight. The truth is already clear and transparent. No matter how the Malfoys sought to hide this unflattering aspect of their history, they could not do so, for since that time, their family has never had more than a single child. However, what Maria said about this curse of the sole heir, or more specifically about its originator, shocked those who understood the implication.. From Maria's account, it becomes evident that the legend whose persona was practically deified among the pure-blood wizards of England is still living; he was alive at least three centuries ago. And this fact makes the current predicament of the Malfoy family even more perilous. They have incurred the displeasure of one of the foremost figures in the magical world, and they have been cursed by none other than Salazar Slytherin, the very founder of their family!
The two aspects of the curse have reduced the Malfoy political clout to zero overnight and made their prospects in the marriage market even more tenuous. Who would want to see their daughter marry a wizard whose family has been cursed by Salazar? Fewer than a handful of parents would ever consider looking abroad for a bride. The aristocracy on the other side of the Channel do not hold Salazar in such esteem and admiration.
While some of the attendees were enthralled by the news of Maria Badoer's presence at the event and the revelation that one of the founders of Hogwarts from three centuries ago was still alive (there was no question in Maria's words regarding the truth of this claim; after all, serious and dignified wizards would not jest about such matters, much less Badoer, who was not one to indulge in frivolousness), Orion Black proceeded to elaborate on the purpose of the celebration.
"Today, I have the privilege of sharing with you all a remarkable occurrence that has profoundly impacted our family, which is why I no longer hold the title of Lord Black and serve as the head of our house," he declared. Following this revelation, a hushed murmur rippled through the room, as some of those wizards who had been contemplating the truth revealed by Maria redirected their attention back to the primary purpose of the evening's gathering, eager to listen to Orion's words with renewed curiosity.
After a brief lull of ten seconds, Orion allowed all guests to gather their wits about them before he continued.
"Might I present, once again embodied, the present Lord of the House of Black, the resurgent Nigelus Phineas, commander of the Order of Merlin, First Class, and former headmaster of Hogwarts."
After this introduction, there was an absolute silence in the hall when the previously mentioned mage appeared next to Orion. Among the guests of House Black that day were some who still remembered Phineas before his passing, and one such guest was the current lord Max, Ethan. Ethan was Nigelus' cousin, as Lord Black's mother, Ella Max, was the cousin of Ethan's father, the present lord Ethan Max.
"Matcha my arse, is that really you, Nigelus?" Ethan, an avid sailor, broke the silence with his question.
"I am, I," Nigelus replied. "But in you, Ethan, I could barely recognize my cousin, who never dreamed of anything other than sailing around the world. If I hadn't felt my mother's magic in you, I wouldn't have recognized you."
In an instant, two old friends, natural and without pretense, stood in the center of the hall and embraced. One of them had thought that he would never meet his childhood friend again until his death.
"How?" Ethan inquired, having embraced his cousin and been convinced of his corporeality, now holding him by the shoulders and looking at Phineas with a slight distance.
"About that later and in private," Lord Black responded to Ethan. Then, breaking his embrace with his cousin, he addressed the hall filled with guests who had been overwhelmed with a plethora of new, profound, and fantastical information, even by the standards of the magical realm, leaving them to digest it.
With a sense of pride, Lord Black declared, "Dear guests, I, Phineas Nigelus acting as Lord Black, take great joy in welcoming you all here. It is also a pleasure to see that during my absence, our esteemed Black family has maintained its standing, as we have succeeded in bringing together under this roof the cream of English aristocracy. I am deeply honoured to know that the efforts of my forebears, myself, and my descendants have contributed to making our family stronger and more esteemed. I wish you all an enjoyable and merry evening."
The moment Black concluded his speech, he was promptly seized by his cousin once more. This cousin now appeared to be in his late fifties, although in truth he was well into his ninth decade. He dragged his newly restored cousin towards the group of elderly individuals who huddled in a corner of the room. These individuals had known Phineas intimately and were now keen to hear the particulars of his revival.
In the wake of Nigelus' remarkable return to the realm of the living, the presence of Maria Badoer at today's event took on a new significance. The magi were still reeling from the resurrection of Vencenzo Amati, who was soon to be elected Pope. None of the influential magicians in Europe had taken the threat posed by the One seriously, as it was no secret among the oldest and most noble families that the Gods had departed. However, with Amati's resurrection and subsequent series of births of individuals with memories of their past lives, which they had earned through a pious existence, the magical community was forced to acknowledge that at least one of the ancient deities had returned to their world, something that could not bring them joy. After all, the Church, the faithful followers of the One, had once engaged in a well-organized, full-scale, violent, and bloody conflict with the magical community.. The news of a living deity, who had been poised to support his followers and had already been driven almost to the brink of extinction, deeply alarmed the magicians.
The presence of Maria Badoer at the Black celebration today can be interpreted in at least two ways. It is possible that the Blacks have sold out to the Church and it was through her assistance that Nigelus was resurrected. Alternatively, Nigelus may have known Maria during his lifetime and was able to purchase her from the Inquisition without raising any questions about his return to the living world. The means by which he achieved this remain unclear.
It is uncertain which scenario is more advantageous for England: an independent Black who maintains equal relations with the Vatican and has Mary as a witness, who now resides with him as an honored guest and guarantor of his freedom from Church claims, or a Black family under the control of the papal throne, acting as a puppet.
More than an hour had elapsed since Nigelus made his appearance in the hall, during which time he engaged in conversation with all the «elderly» (150 years is a mere blink of an eye for a sorcerer), those who remembered him and knew him well. Yet, he suddenly became restless, a fact not lost on the guests, and abruptly departed the hall, in blatant disregard for decorum. This served as the foundation for speculation that some extraordinary event had transpired, prompting Lord Black to commit such an indiscretion.
******
"Did you sense that?" Maria inquired, having keenly listened to the ambient energy, detecting the perturbations characteristic of advanced dark magic.
"I did, and I have a hunch as to who it may be," I replied. "Let us proceed," I said, summoning my wife, as we ventured into the concealed and shadowy realm in pursuit of the source of disturbance. "It is time for the diversion, and I am eager to witness it," I continued, communicating through the mental link with Maria.
*** Phineas Nigelus Black.
As much as I would like to participate in this event, which is tonight's gala, where I will need to put on a show and try to appear harmless in order to alleviate the fear and suspicion of my return from the dead, I must do so and demonstrate my abilities.
In the past, I chose to become the Headmaster of Hogwarts for precisely this reason: its extraterritorial status and lack of political involvement. The founders intended for the school to be as independent and autonomous as possible, and they worked hard to ensure that it had minimal external influence.
As Lord Black, I found it essential to be involved in the intrigues and backstabbings, as neither I nor any other member of my family, whom I led, possessed the strategic power to simply dismiss such behavior. We were powerful, but the Black clan was not the only one in England with a pristine bloodline, comparable strength, resources, and political influence.. At the time, the position of headmaster of Hogwarts appeared to me to be a godsend. However, alas, even having become the head of this institution founded by the four founders, I was still required to participate in the leadership of our family, as there was no one else to shoulder this burden. Among my siblings, I did not see anyone who could honourably assume this responsibility, so I found myself pulling double duty.
It was fortunate that after I assumed the role of headmaster, our family's name was no longer associated with intrigue. It is difficult to engage in such activities when one's child is either attending Hogwarts or about to enter the realm where Black now reigns supreme.
And so I lived, until I perished from a blow that struck me from out of nowhere. I recall that fateful evening as if it were yesterday. I was preparing myself quietly for slumber that night, absorbed in an alchemical endeavor. I believed I had discovered a means to transmute the essence of darkness, and with these thoughts swirling through my mind, I was on the verge of retiring to my bedchamber in the director's suite when my consciousness abruptly vanished.
There followed decades of torment, during which — as Salazar subsequently enlightened me — I suffered the consequences of breaking contracts with the school's new headmasters, serving as a lightning rod for their anger, while my soul was trapped within a soul-trap crafted from the skull of an ancient bloodsucker, situated along the path between Hogwarts' altar and the headmasters' chambers.
But let us not be disheartened, my liege is actively seeking for this object, and I am certain that once he lays his hands upon it, it will rue the day it came into existence! Now that Salazar has recovered my soul and brought me back to life, I feel closer than ever to the goal from my previous existence, and I will soon attain the level of power that grants me the right to bear the title of Archmage.
Salazar spared no expense in my restoration, investing heavily in my essence, and now I possess at least twice the strength I had in my former years. The most astonishing aspect of my current state, however, is the fact that I continue to grow stronger with each passing day! In addition to the increase in power and the youthful vigor inherent in my newfound strength, there is a steady, daily development of my spiritual faculties. Alongside these benefits, I have developed an extraordinary sensitivity to energies, making me the most potent sorcerer among all those gifted individuals present here today.. And we have invited the cream of the crop, the finest and most prominent members of English society, not to mention the rest of the world. The only two exceptions in this room today are Salazar Snape and his wife, whose influence I cannot even begin to measure, let alone comprehend or even detect, much less understand. I can see Salazar and Maria in the visible spectrum, but my psychic energy remains silent in their presence.
With the exception of Albus Dumbledore, who was not invited by the Black family due to his political opposition, and Marvolo Gaunt, whose presence I did not desire here today after coming across some of his correspondence with the current head of the Black family, Orion, which lacked the proper respect and deference one would expect from a peer.
However, according to Salazar, these two individuals also pose no immediate threat to me in a direct confrontation. While Gont may be relatively new in terms of his strength to qualify as a Master, Dumbledore already held a position in the mid-tier. This places me at the pinnacle of the hierarchy, with my next significant increase in strength potentially leading me to the rank of Archimage!
For the past hour, I have been navigating through the crowd of guests, attempting to find moments to approach each individual. I must exchange pleasantries with old acquaintances, yet my primary objective today is to engage with the esteemed leaders of various clans who are currently residing in the House of Lords. My goal is to establish connections and delve into each of their minds with my magical abilities.
However, suddenly, I sensed someone outside our home attempting to curse the source of our magic, along with the altar itself, casting a familial curse upon the Black lineage. Who is this fool who dares to challenge me and my family? I was astounded by the audacity of this individual and enraged that someone would seek to harm me and my descendants. I swiftly made my way to Grimmauld Place in London, where a portal opened for those initiated into our realm, which has now become a separate and autonomous domain.
As I found myself under the dusky, rainy skies of London, in a secluded square, a remarkable scene unfolded before my eyes. An enigmatic sorcerer, having cast a powerful spell of invisibility, completed the final step of a complex ritual within a pentagram, ready to harness the cosmic energies that would allow him to establish a connection to the mystical realm of my residence.
The sorcerer's attention was focused on a series of mysterious beacons that had seemingly materialized within my home. I resolved to uncover the source of these enigmatic presences, intending to confront the intruder who had disturbed my sanctuary. The sorcerer's intention was to unleash a formidable curse, drawn from the dark arts of South American maleficia, stored in the form of a mummified infant skull, waiting to be released upon its unsuspecting victim.
Nigelus, having been endowed with the assistance of Salazar, not only in terms of physical strength and the ability to revive, but also through the impartation of a substantial amount of knowledge, including insights from the ancient Sumerian tradition of magic, had already prepared an enchantment that was permanently embedded within the master's aura.
The dark spell, which Nigelus employed against the unknown entity, was a translation of the Serpentargo curse, originating from the Nagas, into the Roman framework of magical practices. Consequently, its verbal formulation now resonated in Latin, conveying the meaning of "Serpentes Tenebræ," rather than its original form in the language of the serpents.
The unfortunate victim of this malevolent curse, once it has been inflicted upon them, is subjected to an attack by five spectral serpents, each comprised of embodied darkness. These serpents ensnare their prey, wrapping their sinuous bodies around their target and sinking their venomous fangs deep into their flesh. The longer they feed upon the victim's life force, the more powerful their grip becomes, rendering escape nearly impossible.
This curse is a formidable adversary, and if left unchecked, it can prove exceedingly difficult to overcome. The serpents' fangs inject an ancient darkness into their victims' spiritual essence, leaving them vulnerable to further manipulation. For a weak practitioner of magic, this curse can prove fatal within the first moments of its activation. To survive, one must physically overpower these spectral bodies and break free, despite the agony of contact with the darkness they embody. There is no counter-curse available, only physical strength and determination can save the victim from this fate.! Or be the possessor of the gift of Parseltongue, through which one can command snakes to release one from their grip, leaving them with no alternative but to obey. The ability to converse with snakes in this realm is a decree that applies to all reptiles except for true dragons, who possess their own tongue of the Sky Lords. While they may also speak Serpentargo, the potency of the serpent tongue falls short of its ability to compel these aerial behemoths.
The sorcerer who had set out to curse the Black clan had not anticipated anyone to react with such alacrity to his deeds and come to confront him. Thus, Nigelus's assault encountered no formidable impediment in its path. The entirety of the assailant's focus was centered on the ritual, for this branch of magic is exceedingly intricate, and the tiniest error in executing even the simplest ritual can result in the most extraordinary consequences.
Thus, all that stood between the coils of darkness and their intended victim was feeble artifactual protection, which they dispelled without any notice. A shriek rent the air of Grimmauld Place, as the sorcerer writhed in agony. In addition to the shadowy taint that the serpent's fangs had inflicted upon his soul, he was also afflicted by the repercussions of a disrupted ritual. Yet, this was not enough for the Black.
"Crucio!" was Nigelus's response to the shriek of the creature that had assaulted his kind, but the pain and suffering he inflicted were not enough to satisfy his thirst for revenge. What Phineas did not anticipate was that his adversary would not be a human.
Humans cannot directly absorb darkness with their essence, relying on spiritual artifacts or other supports and tools. Only otherworldly beings can draw upon the essence from any source, as was evident in this instance. The unknown entity had extracted all the darkness from the serpents, devouring them. Based on the observations, Crucio appeared to act as a catalyst for the creature, further fueling and energizing it.
Nigelus surmised that he encountered either a demonic entity, some form of unholy being, or a powerful and ancient undead creature.
This development came as a surprise to him, yet it did not fill him with fear. For even in his own lifetime, encountering either the former or the latter was nearly unthinkable, let alone in the present era, when sorcerers had become a shadow of their former selves. And yet, here he was, confronted with such an anomaly!
Even if he had not faced such adversaries before, the gravest threat to his very existence was the pintail he had hunted in Romania, for which he had paid a princely sum, further cementing the reputation of the Blacks as the most depraved sorcerers in "civilized" Europe. But as a Black, he had undergone all the necessary training in his youth, designed to raise a worthy heir for the future Lord. Part of this training included combatting such threats and beings.. And if one were to add to the inherent reflexes, the knowledge and skills instilled in Salazar during his formative years, the unfortunate demon found itself facing an insurmountable foe. Lord Black was an opponent of no consequence for this creature!
"Heh… how intriguing, I shall certainly have to craft one of these," Nigelus mused.
As soon as he became aware that he was confronting a demon, or at the very least a formidable undead entity, a trove of Salazar's knowledge sprang to mind, along with the primary weapon of Sumerian exorcists — a bloody iron chain designed to combat demons.
"Ssshhhhhh!" it was Gont, who had ventured to Grimmo seeking retribution for an offense he had committed, and had not anticipated encountering such a harsh rebuff.
"Indeed? A serpentargo? How intriguing…" Nigelus pondered, as he stretched out to sense the being's aura, attempting to discern its nature through his own intuition. The distinct flavor of death magic emanated from the creature, unmistakable in its essence, accompanied by a demonic and unnatural darkness. To Nigelus, it was precisely as his mentors had described it, and as he had read about it in books. However, the presence of a serpentargo was not what Nigelus had anticipated from this creature.
"You, you monstrous abomination, despoiler of ghouls, hush me some more!" Nigelus exclaimed merrily. At his words, an impenetrable shield of magic descended upon the Grimmo square, rendering it inaccessible to mortals. "I shall grant you a choice, for today is a day of celebration in my house, and I am honored! I appreciate that! Thus, I offer this: you may either divulge your identity and the identity of your instructor in the art of plotting against my kind or remain silent, and I shall personally extract the answers I seek from you in the torture chambers of our dungeon!" Nigelus burst into a fit of maniacal laughter that would have been at home in a psychiatric ward, where the Gotham Joker himself would recognize a kindred spirit. Ormarr, observing the spectacle, was somewhat taken aback.. He, one might say, personally held Phineas's soul in the palm of his hand, and there were no prerequisites or even the faintest hints of what he was about to do in either his mental, sensual, or astral planes. So how did it happen? He was perfectly sane! When he revived him, Svyatozar had already planned to turn Phineas and his entire Black family into vassals, so he spared no effort in restoring Nigelus' soul, and this is what happened! Lord Black finally put an end to my analysis of his sanity.
"Choose the second option, please!" Phineas barked, and for an instant I saw a grim grin on his face, like that of a Grim, and then I understood. Nigelus had been connected to the altar again, and it turned out that Grim's soul had been voluntarily imprisoned within it.
I had recently learned more about our family history after Nigelus transferred his entire library, which he had copied into an artifact I had given him. I still have a few thousand of these artifacts in my collection. I used to create them on an industrial scale for the Vatican, so that none of the magicians serving the Church would become offended.
From one of the journals of the late Lord Black, who lived in the 8th century, I learned that he had managed to tame a Grim puppy, a creature that dwells at the intersection of the deep astral plane and the negative dimension. The Grim is neither a harbinger of death nor a denizen of hell, but rather closer in nature to spirits or youkai.. The precise details of how this mortal obtained a puppy of such a creature were not recorded in the diary, but ultimately, as the puppy grew, it became known as Lord Black's family name at that time. When Lord Black passed away, his loyal dog climbed onto the family altar, offering himself up to magic, and imprisons his soul within the family stone forever.
Oh, there is a reason why people speak of dog loyalty. And Grimm, whatever his nature may have been, was undoubtedly a member of the canine family. Thus, it is not surprising that once Nigelus established a strong connection with the ancestral stone and experienced a profound union with black magic, the characteristics that define Grimms who thrive in battle began to manifest within him.
If a Grimm engages in a battle, they either triumph or perish. There is no middle ground. They do not know how to withdraw.. That is the sole reason why they survive in their natural habitat, which is inhabited by a multitude of dangerous creatures. However, all these members of the local fauna possess rudimentary intelligence and engage in combat with packs of rabid dogs that will not relent until all are dead. Such an adversary is not an appealing prospect.
Even if the creature manages to overcome the entire pack, it will still be severely weakened and battered. In their world, weakness is not tolerated, so there is a high likelihood that someone will seize the opportunity to strike and eliminate the weakened opponent. The victor would then claim the carcass of the fallen adversary and the corpses of the previous pack members as trophies.
Mmm... What delicious sensations overwhelm Marvolo! And if you add Black's, it becomes a gastronomic feast for the senses, for empathy has become akin to smell or touch for me since my rebirth as a basilisk here.
I was immersed in emotions so sweet and delightful to my very essence, in Gont's case, that I suddenly realized I was the prey of a predator on the hunt for the predatory Phineas Grimm. The terror of Marvolo's panic gave way to the wild excitement of Nigellus, eager for battle with a formidable opponent whose defeat and possession of his corpse would be worthy of a trophy in his eyes.
Uhhh... Fascinating... but why do I hear so many other strong sources of conflicting, vivid emotions emanating from the Black manor? The answer came to me at once.
"I have decided to inject a touch of chaos into the equation, and with that in mind, the duel will be broadcast to all guests. It will serve to enhance the credibility of our future vassal," Maria said with delight.
"You are my brilliant girl!" I exclaimed, already beside my beloved. I embraced her from behind, kissing her cheek and then her neck. Oh, dear me, I was becoming aroused.
"Mmm... Darling," Maria murmured, feeling my erection against her backside. "Let's conclude the fight and depart. Haaa," she sighed, as I settled myself comfortably, with my desire, akin to a sausage in a hotdog, trapped between two enticing spheres. "Mmm... Directly to the beach, then!"
Meanwhile, as my beloved and I engaged in our affectionate interactions, Nigelus emerged from the slicer, his laughter ringing out with a loud and hearty guffaw. This occurred precisely at the moment when before him, unbeknownst to him, a source of power akin to that of a magister, distorted by death and darkness, suddenly manifested its full might. The guests of the House of Black who witnessed this event could sense the reverberations of this supernova-like power, which seemed to extend beyond the confines of their plane of existence and resonate with beings dwelling in the most abyssal and repugnant demonic dimensions. The experience was both awe-inspiring and deeply unsettling, but what was even more disturbing was the mirthful laughter of Lord Black himself.
"Do you think you can intimidate me with your dark aura, pup? Me, the Black?!" Nigelus's bellow caused the flames of black energy that concealed Marvolo to flicker and sway like a gust of wind.
"Few know it, but we have never hidden it; our names are our proclamation of who we are. And who are the Blacks, indeed? Everyone assumes we are champions of darkness, but that is our greatest deception, for the first Lord Black was a Lord of Light, bestowed with that title by the world itself!
It was a revelation to me when I discovered this fact while delving into the history of one of Britain's most notorious and controversial families."
Why do members of the Black family bear star-like names? It is because we perceive ourselves as luminous creations of the Creator, dispelling the darkness that permeates the cosmic void. As the first wizards in Albion, we embraced the dual nature of magic and existence. And although rare, there exist among the Blacks mages of light.
Indeed, the most remarkable gift our founder brought to our family's magic is the ability to wield the power of light, even as we are practitioners of darkness.
Towards the end of Nigelus' impassioned speech, which had begun to stir up a storm of emotions, more than thirty orbs of light descended upon Marvolo. This display, while not particularly intricate, was remarkable considering the sheer number and intensity of the light particles it generated. Such a display of light magic would be a source of pride for even the most accomplished practitioners in this field.
Gont narrowly escaped the majority of the attacks, but three of them missed their mark, and had there been one more, his nascent career as a Dark Lord would have come to an abrupt end.
In the face of intense darkness, light proves to be the superior force. This is an undeniable truth that cannot be refuted, as demonstrated today. The darkness that enveloped Tom was extinguished, leaving him lying in a puddle of his own blood, swearing in the Serpentargo language, his relatively unharmed hand reaching for the secret pocket where he had concealed the punch with the teleportation enchantment.
"Let him be," Nigelus received a mental message from his master, who was increasingly being tempted and enticed by Maria's offer to leave soon and visit the former Caribbean shore that had become her own sea within her master's realm.
Naturally, Lord Black had no intention of defying the order. In an instant, Gaunt's broken body was whisked away to one of Black's secret hideouts. There, the young magister used the teleportation spell to restore his physical form as quickly as possible. Once he had regained his strength, he intended to track down his slaves and interrogate them. He would discover the truth: who was this new Master in England, and how had Black managed to appear so suddenly?
每周推薦票狀態
-- 推薦票
榜單 
-- 推薦票