As night fell, the November cold snap made the English soil even colder than the French one. The sky shone with dim stars, like fireworks that were about to go out.

Hoffa walks along the long coastline with torches in hand, with only one nun and desolate empty towns.

He didn't use light magic, and the illumination charm without a wand wouldn't be difficult for him, but he didn't want anyone to notice the anomaly.

However, there were no accidents for some time after the two landed on the coast. For a long time, they did not meet a single person.

I didn't see the black witches walking everywhere, the corpses as many as dogs, and I didn't see the legendary Muggle Army. There are only empty land due to war, and abandoned towns densely covered with water vapor.

Except for the howling of the wind when it came, there was a dead silence in the land, and even the low creaking of walking was particularly loud in comparison. There are no birds singing in the woods, and no pedestrians walking the streets.

Only dilapidated and collapsed houses, and a patchwork of thorns growing bare on the rocks, and the few weeds that were almost entirely nettles, with the occasional serrated or spiky plant.

There are even some smelly plants that can be rancid if you step on them. Even where the moonlight shines, there is no warmth. The pale half-moon hung in the western treetops, and there was a hint of coldness in the light, as if mixed with shadows.

Pools of dried blood could occasionally be seen on the ground, scattered everywhere like brown lichens, but surprisingly there were no corpses.

The calm is terrible.

If it weren't for the cold and cold face that wakes up every morning, and the hungry stomach growls every night because of the lack of food, Hoffa would almost think that he has entered some strange dream again.

It was a long walk in no man's land, from day to night, after dark.

"Do you want to take a break? We've been walking for the day. ”

Chloe whispered beside Hoffa, her clothes sloppy at the moment, but the ugly makeup that covered her face gradually faded, revealing her tired but beautiful face.

"Okay. ”

Hoffa didn't talk much nonsense, he held the ground and used Transfiguration to make a simple cave in the rock and build a bonfire. In some of the surrounding empty towns, he gathered some food for Chloe and himself.

Most of them were plain canned food, stiff and moldy cheese, or some discarded marching rations. But they can't be picky at such times, and they can only eat what they have.

It was almost eleven mid-eleven, and the long search was fruitless, and Hoffa couldn't help but wonder if he had judged correctly, and if Müller Mance had not been as shrewd as he thought, he would not have bet on the children at all, and waited on the shore to wait for the rabbits.

Or Chloe was not so important to them, and he had already turned around and returned to Germany, so wouldn't it be a complete waste of time for him to search for all this time.

The flames crackled in the night, and there were only the two of them around, and everything they could talk about was pretty much gone, and most of the time, there was only silence between them.

"Still looking for it?"

Suddenly, Chloe asked, hugging her knees.

"Don't look for it!?"

Hoffa flicked the hand of the fire, and for the first time in so long a long time, the nun had given up on him.

"I'm just asking, and I don't mean to give up. ”

"Then go ahead. Hoffa said.

"Do you mind if I ask you a question?"

"What?"

"Why did you send me back, did Delfina promise you, or did you need me to do something for you?" she asked, half jokingly, half earnestly.

"Huh, why are you asking this?"

"I want to know," said the nun in a rare coquettish tone, "you tell me." ”

"I'll tell you when I get to London. ”

Hoffa said absentmindedly, "He doesn't want to take this topic very much. ”

"Good. The nun smiled tiredly, "You are not quite the same as when I first met. ”

"Really,"

Hoffa wondered, "What's the difference?"

"Well," the nun thought for a moment, "I'll tell you when I get to London." ”

Hoffa pouted, "Rest early and continue tomorrow." ”

The sky shone a little brighter, and the nun, who had finished a simple dinner, leaned against the rocks and began to snooze. As she fell asleep, her head slid onto Hoffa's shoulder.

I don't know if it's the first time she's leaned on herself after falling asleep, maybe because of the cold, or maybe maybe it's just that her shoulders are a little softer than the stone.

Hoffa didn't push her away, and in this empty and lonely environment, he was glad that there was still a life by his side.

Maybe there are two... He pulled out the glass orb from his waist and looked at the unknown creature he had captured. It stretched its tentacles, slowly whirling and dancing in the transfigurative orb.

These days, he has to take out this thing curiously every night to observe it, hoping to find out its hidden secrets.

But it just hovers in a glass bottle every day, neither eats nor drinks, and does not communicate with Hoffa. Even if he used Transfiguration to conjure a spike in the glass bottle and stab it, it only circled gracefully out of the way, silently.

However, the creature's behavior today was a little strange, and when it noticed that Hoffa was looking at it, the chaotic smoke-like head opened like a flower, and the starlight reflected through the smoke on the glass ball, forming a map.

On the map, he saw the campfire he had lit, Chloe sleeping, and a moving point of light in the distance.

"What does that mean?"

Hoffa came to his senses, and he asked in a whisper, this little monster that can bring nightmares is mysterious, and until now, he has not figured out what its abilities are.

The monster in the glass bottle just rises and hovers, like a spirit in a bottle, silent but enchanting.

"Chloe?"

He pushed the nun next to him, and the nun let out an even breathing sound, lazily like a cat, curled up beside his arm, and did not remember.

Hoffa gave up the idea of waking her up, he pushed her head away a little bit, stood up, and stared firmly at the moving point of light on the map, could it be that the little monster was alerting himself that there was someone nearby?

I can't see anyone for so many days, and it would be great if I could find someone to ask and understand the situation.

The point of light was not far from his position, and eventually, Hoffa made up his mind that he wanted to take a look. She put a garment over Chloe and cast a protective spell around her. I set off quickly.

He was very fast, and in the night, he looked like a ghost, and there was no one to hinder him in the empty town at night, and soon he followed the route map on the glass ball to the mouth of the offshore river.

Here he found a freighter stranded at the mouth of the sea, with a large hole in its belly blown open by artillery fire, which was the same small freighter they were on behind the port of Normandy in France.

Hofa's eyes lit up at the sight of the ship, and he stepped onto the freighter slanted in the sand in three steps and two steps.

However, when he boarded the ship, it was already empty, and the steam and bloody deck still spoke of the chaos and cruelty that had happened here, and Hoffa touched the dried and browned blood on the ground, and his brow furrowed.

People were taken away.

He took out the glass ball, and the point of light on the glass ball flickered less than five meters around him, moving slightly.

"Who's there!?"

He asked.

No one answered.

In such a quiet but solemn atmosphere, the abacus of peaceful questioning gradually failed, and he put on his metal gloves, and the black iron pieces covered his right hand little by little.

As if sensing danger, the monster's head in the glass ball closed and continued to hover aimlessly.

The light of the glass ball went out, and Hoffa raised his fingers and chanted softly, "Fluorescent flying." A silver point of light flew upwards from his fingertips in a gravity-defying fashion, circling around his head.

As he continued to walk inside, the glow of the Fluorescent Spell seemed to meet some resistance and dimmed.

It was a completely different ship from the one he had seen when he crossed the sea, with spots of blood sticking to the white-painted walls.

A wooden stick with a coat hook nailed to the wall next to the door. That's where the crew hangs their clothes. Newspapers were taped underneath the sticks. The newspaper was covered in scratches, and someone had grabbed the plank hard as they were dragged away, but they didn't.

Then on the side of the wall. There was nothing left. Only the wires hanging from it were originally connected to the doorway of the captain's quarters. I don't know if it was blown open by a spell or by artillery fire, and it was shattered to the ground.

He went all the way down.

The sloping staircase creaked at his feet, and he remembered this place, when it was at sea, and there were many children running around in this corridor.

When he reached the left staircase on the second floor below deck, the ground was discolored and more broken and chaotic, and he stepped on something that was half soft and not hard. When I looked away, it turned out to be a human hand.

Bombed, manpowered.

Looking down the gap, he saw the moonlight shining through the huge opening in the bulkhead, which was a gap blown by artillery fire, and the metal of the gap still had a man's head hanging from it.

Under the flying fluorescence, Hoffa walked up to the man's head.

It's Matthew.

The thug who had planned to throw himself into the sea to feed the fish was now looking at him with a miserable white and hideous attitude under the light of the flying fluorescents, as if to indict the ruthlessness and cruelty of the German wizard at the moment of arrival.

Hoffa looked away and looked at the ground.

The pedals are covered with thick coagulated blood, which has been coagulated for a long time, but still has the characteristic texture of blood. In the dried blood, some footprints can be seen, very shallow, left not long ago.

He gently put his foot on the pedal and stomped it. There was a creaking sound, the explosion did not completely destroy the structure of the hull, and it was able to bear its own weight.

So I went all the way down to the ground floor and saw that the door of the room I used to live in was open at this moment. The way it was opened was not because it was shaken by the explosion, but by someone pushing the handle.

He touched the wall, his vigilance raising again.

If as expected, all the people here should have been taken away by Mance, could there still be fish that slipped through the net under the hands of so many wizards?

Or are their people sure they'll come back?

So stay here and plug yourself.

The glow spell disappears.

???? He calmed down, his body fluctuating like a chameleon and disappearing into the air, at the same time. He carefully kicked away the shards of glass scattered on the floor, and stood in the doorway like a ghost. In the cold moonlight, he saw the light spots on the floor in the room blur rapidly.

Someone.

He was sure of that.

But he was also sure that the other party could not see him. It's like he can't see that guy either.

It was almost three or four minutes like this, and a dark cloud in the sky obscured the bright moonlight. There was a soft sound in the corner, and a faint fluctuation of mana, and the shadows on the ground blurred again.

Hoffa immediately turned, and a dangerous stun spell drifted past him. His magic glove glowed dangerously red, and he raised his hand and slammed it back.

The wooden door panel seemed to have been struck by an invisible air hammer, and it clicked and sinted, followed by a muffled grunt of suppressed pain.

"Come out. ”

Hoffa pressed his hand against the invisible transparent head.

This time, he was answered by a sharp knife, a wand that had been transformed, and Hoffa knew nothing more about this kind of trick, and he only made a slight mistake. The transformation spell was quickly disintegrated under the clash of spiritual power, and the opponent's sharp knife turned back into a magic wand. Not only that, but he also grabbed the transparent wrist of the person opposite.

"Is that all there is to it?"

Hoffa said.

The illusory man struggled for a moment, but did not break free, and he whispered, "Flame burning!"

Orange flames rose from his transparent arm, scalding his arm hot, and Hoffa shook it off as he snatched his wand and took three quick steps back.

"If you don't come out again, don't blame me for being unkind. ”

With Sen Leng's words, the cabin deformed except for his feet, and sharp iron thorns grew.

Crackling, a soft sound accompanied by violent fluctuations in mana. The man had abandoned his wand and was about to apparition, and Hoffa's fingers were closed, and the spikes five meters away were bent and grew wildly.

"Ouch!"

With a cry of pain that took away the London accent, "Let go of me!"

A wizard was dragged out of his apparition state. This is a man in a black and yellow robe, tall and with a wide chin,

He didn't look very old, only a year or two older than Hoffa.

If it was an opponent he had encountered in such an environment in the past, Hoffa would probably not hesitate to incapacitate the opponent and then interrogate him.

But this time, he didn't choose to do that, but let go of the young man in front of him as he said. Because he had a badger tattooed on the chest of his yellow and black wizard's robe. This is a Hogwarts student, or a Hufflepuff house.