"Do sorcerers also have faith?"

In my ears, there were bursts of singing like holy music, and I couldn't help but have such doubts in my heart.

The group walked into the town.

It is a medieval-style town. Glowing willow trees can be seen everywhere to light up the road.

The old cobblestone streets shimmer with a faint sheen, and the stone maniacs are inlaid with colorful glass, and the blue-white light sprinkles on the glass, forming a dappled light and shadow.

But no one passed.

Except for the singing in the center of the town, there was silence all around. There is no breath of the living.

Maybe it's some kind of celebration or banquet that brings the townspeople together.

That's what everyone guesses.

"What a foolish thing to say, how can a wizard have faith." Winston vetoed it, wizards themselves have the power of strange powers, so the wizarding world is far more mundane than the Muggle world.

But to say that there is no faith at all, it is not right.

Many wizards believed in Merlin.

However, this belief is more of a respect for the legend, after all, Merlin will not ask them for incense money.

"There are still some." Miss Zhang opened her mouth, "It's not about faith, it's about the gods. ”

She said solemnly, "It is also a belief to follow the ancient sages. ”

"Yes." Mr. Basil nodded, and in the Federation, the belief in Merlin was a very common thing, and it was also an act of following the ancient sages.

But—and it wasn't just him, so they all noticed that the rooms on either side, the doors of each house were graffiti with some kind of oozing painting.

It was the same as the abstract paintings on stone they saw in the fields.

The night - the blue light - the oozing ghost.

A wind of fear blew involuntarily, making the hearts of everyone present tense involuntarily.

There is no need to talk about any more beliefs, because this town, from beginning to end, reveals an evil spirit, which cannot be speculated by ordinary people.

The size of the town is not large.

A few people walked along the main road, after walking through a central garden square, and after turning a block, they came to a building full of Gothic style.

It looked like a Muggle church.

At this moment, the wizards were stunned, and they saw a group of people dressed in black robes and wrapped in their bodies, carrying something out of the back door of the town.

The other party apparently found out about them as well.

The black-robed man at the head also glanced at them, and his gaze stayed for about three or four seconds before moving away.

Then, the black-robed people continued their work as if nothing was in their hands, and walked away quickly with something, and disappeared into the silent night after a while.

The wizards were alert, but no one rushed forward.

The town is very unusual, and it is unwise to clash with the townspeople so far under the premise that everything is unknown. Caution - this is the excellent quality that these Federation elders possess compared to the minor wizards.

After all, this is not the case today, and in a world that is becoming more and more treacherous, you can hardly talk about any experience, and in just a few years, there are more new enemies than many people have seen in a lifetime.

So, it's not that they're cautious—it's that they're not prudent, and they've covered themselves with the bedding of the merciful earth.

Retracting their gaze, the four were silent.

Then, with their wands in hand, they slowly walked up the stairs and pushed open the doors of the church-like building.

You can see the end of the church at a glance.

The walls were littered with tar from the burning of oil lamps, the blackness was disgusting, and the stained glass was blurred. There were even broken ones, which had been sealed with wooden boards, and several planks were put together to reveal a long, irregular slit. You can see the eerie night outside.

At this time, about 100 people, men and women dressed in different clothes, were standing on the benches in the room.

Their eyes glazed over, and they looked together at the seat of the guest of honor.

There, a middle-aged man in a suit and leather shoes, holding a thick, yellowed pamphlet, was leading the faithful in singing a hymn aloud.

The language that came out of his mouth was not known to any of the four people present.

It seems to be a very old, even thousands of years old, an early human language.

In the room, Gao Ge continued.

Both the faithful and the bishops were indifferent to the sudden intrusion of the four, preferring to sing rather than ask where several people came from.

It continued for a while before the singing slowly stopped.

The bishop-like man waved for everyone to wait for a moment.

Then, with a flat face, he crossed his hands and began to pray.

The believers made the same gesture, again in the language they didn't understand.

Longer than the song lasts.

"God babble." Miss Zhang muttered in a low voice, she hated this unknowable thing the most, and the completely incomprehensible voice in her ears was very hypnotic.

According to the correct time, it should be the second half of the night, and it is time to sleep.

Her thoughts gradually let go, and as she thought, a silver-haired figure floated gently through the window.

Through the irregular wooden joints and the exposed cracks, Zhang Xiaolin could see clearly.

Her gaze immediately shifted to the next window, which was stained glass.

Gray, not as showy as it was at the beginning.

I waited, but after a long time, no one passed by the window.

Not even the change in light and shadow.

She frowned.

But it didn't make a statement.

After a few more minutes, the prayer ended.

The townspeople stood up and dispersed in twos and threes.

Finally—the attention of the Lord Bishop fell on them.

"Welcome." He spoke fluent English, even with some British accent, "Welcome to the undead, well—long time no—worthy souls have come here." ”

"Undead?" Sirius frowned lowly, "What do you mean?" ”

"It doesn't matter." Mr. Bishop, a very good-looking man, dressed in a linen robe, said kindly, "Time will tell the story." ”

"What kind of place is this?" Sirius asked again.

"Everything in the world has a name, but its true name may only be known to the wind, and I—we call this land Prescia." The man said mildly, "Once upon a time, the world was in perfect balance. The world is a great tree of life, every branch, every leaf, every flower is carefully arranged so that the sun shines and the rain and dew are evenly wet. People, animals, and spirits are all at peace and peace.

Suddenly, one day, an inexplicable external force interfered with the balance of the world, and the spiritual world began to make waves, and then what appeared on people was cruelty and killing. Prescia means the harbor of the soul, a temporary residence for all the dead, when they let go of their obsessions and wash away their cruelty, they can welcome the next greater adventure. ”

Miss Zhang frowned, her heart full of confusion. The man's words sounded like a mist to her, and she was completely confused.

She glanced at Mr. Basil, and saw that he was equally confused. Obviously, he should be in the same mood as she was at the moment.

Sirius then took on the task of talking to him.

Zhang Xiaolin, on the other hand, left the church with Mr. Basil, and she came to the window where she had seen the silver-haired figure floating. At the moment, the windows were closed, quiet, and nothing unusual.

Ms. Zhang carefully examined the window and the surrounding environment, trying to find any clues. However, she found nothing but some dust on the windows and traces of time. She couldn't help but be a little disappointed, and began to wonder if she had seen it wrong.

Then she thought about the back door of the church.

So, she left the window and came to the back door of the church. The back door leads to a path that winds and winds all the way to the mountains outside the town.

Ms. Zhang stood by the back door, looking out over the mountains through the gap between the two rows of buildings. However, she didn't see anyone except lush trees and rolling hills.

"Strange—" Zhang Xiaolin frowned, and then went back to the church.

In front of the door, Sirius was still talking to the man.

However, the other party has been in the clouds, and the central idea is just one sentence, and you will understand it yourself after a while.

It was clear that Sirius had lost much patience.

After the other party continued to say that the way to leave here was in his heart, he directly took out his wand and recited the magic spell to the man.

"It's long overdue." Zhang Xiaolin complained.

Dumbledore's people! It's too decent—she can't help but hold her eyes at Basil beside her.

The South American incident was caused by the fact that he was not allowed to use the Dementor Spell, which caused the situation to deteriorate further, and if she had pried the other party's brain to know the truth in the first place, then the subsequent series of things would not have happened.

Sirius's spells were used very skillfully.

It seems that this time is not less.

But after a moment, his expression became even more ugly.

As his left hand fell, the Bishop smiled and walked away.

He was left alone in front of the church door in silence.

"What's wrong?" Victor asked.

Of the three people present, Zhang Xiaolin did not communicate with the dog godfather, and Basil rarely participated due to his different duties, but he, because the Rozier Hospital for the Disabled was located in Paris, was often in contact with Sirius as the liaison to the Federation of the French Ministry of Magic.

In the face of Winston's questioning, Sirius looked a little lonely, but remained silent.

It was a moment before he made a gesture as he pressed his wand to his temple, and drew a silver streak.

The threads intertwined and fell, and Winston immediately took a glass bottle out of his pocket and caught it.

"See for yourself." He said.

Then he turned to leave, and now he didn't seem to care about the weirdness and danger of the town.

The three of them looked at each other, their faces full of doubts.

Victor, on the other hand, pulled a mirror out of his pocket.

This is the function of the meditation mirror is exactly the same as that of the meditation mirror, and as a student of Ms. Rozier, although he is not as talented as Victor in alchemy, the results he has achieved are far beyond ordinary people. He had all sorts of alchemical items in his pocket, many of which were his own inventions, and some of which were the work of Lady Rozier.

He poured the memories from the bottle into the mirror, and soon, the mirror, which was still vague and cloudy, immediately revealed a human figure.

A man appears in the picture, and it is clear that he is Mr. Bishop.

Then the picture began to change rapidly, Sirius could not have browsed a person's life in a short period of time, first of all, it was unlikely from magic, because no one could cast a spell for that long, and secondly, being taken by the Regents was a very uncomfortable experience, and the brain would have a strong sense of foreign objects entering the brain, like Snape, it was not easy for the Regents to take the receptives, and if it was Voldemort, it would really be a blunt knife to scratch the brain.

No one can endure that kind of pain, invade their brains for a long time, and the final result can only be madness, or outright death.

So, the picture in the mirror flickered very quickly.

A few fragments of the life of the bishop, the youth, the youth, flashed by, mainly the memories of him after entering here.

Time passed minute by minute, and soon, the surface of the meditation mirror water became cloudy again.

And when they got all the information, they were silent.

"It can't be—" Basil said, "we came here through Shangri-La." ”

"We are different from the inhabitants of the island." Winston said again.

Your own memory will not deceive you, so it can only be someone else's who is deceived.

Then the three of them looked at each other, turned their heads, and rushed into the town.

The residents who had just returned home, and the doors that had not yet been closed, were being treated roughly.

The three of them entered the house as if they wanted to buy it for zero yuan, but their purpose was not goods or finances, but people.

A milky white spell that belonged to the Dementor's Recitation Spell rang out.

In just over an hour, the trio scavenged the brains of more than fifty residents of the entire town.

It's not that they don't want to continue, it's that they have too many memories of other people in their heads, which is dangerous and can make people lose their consciousness.

All the memories come together.

If nothing goes wrong.

Then it seems superficial - they are dead.

Outside the town, the three of them sat on the ridge and watched the sea, Sirius had already joined the others, and he also did not believe the bishop's side of the word, and did what the three of them had just done with the others.

And the conclusion is the same.

Apparently no one wants to accept this outcome, they begin to rummage through the town in search of what they believe should be the secret.

Because judging by the memories of the townspeople, they are all just ordinary people, at least for now, and they don't threaten wizards at all.

The silent trio joined the action, but in her direction was the mountains in the distance.

She still remembers the scene in front of the church.

The three of them split up for hours.

Exploration of the mountains yielded nothing.

In the dark night, she didn't notice anything abnormal, the mountain was still the same mountain, and there were no other characteristics except for the abundance of magic.

Frustrated, she returned to the town church where she had agreed with Basil and Winston.

Waiting for the round.

In the distance, Zhang Xiaolin saw the oil lamp in the church on.

She thought it was Winston or Basil who had returned.

A few hours ago, I caught a glimpse of the silver-haired woman's window, through the gap in the wooden plank, Zhang Xiaolin, who was just passing by, glanced towards the interior of the church.

But I saw that a townsman was holding a knife and gently slitting his left arm.

Let the blood drip into the jar in front of him.

(End of chapter)