At the request of Cardinal Alofman, the Pope presided over a grand Rite of Blessing for a sleeping child.
It was a blessing, but also a prayer to the Almighty for victory against the wicked wizards.
As a condition for inviting the Pope to perform this ritual, Cardinal Alofman agreed to leave the Holy See in the Vatican and travel to the British Isles. There, he would lead the final crusade against wizardkind.
And "crusade" was the only fitting word for the scale of violence intended.
The Church had constructed a massive Teleportation Circle to transport their Knight Orders. Led by the Ascetics, these armies were tasked with razing every wizarding settlement to the ground. Even secular kings would be trampled by the Knights if they dared refuse the Church's will.
Cardinal Alofman would personally lead the assault on the newly established school, Hogwarts. He intended to destroy this gathering place of sin with his own hands, proving himself the most faithful servant of God.
In the eyes of the Church, anyone possessing magical power who did not submit to God was an unforgivable sinner.
And for sinners, the only salvation was the destruction of the flesh. The body was the vessel of sin, while the soul—God's original gift—was pure and needed to be released.
The blessing ceremony was magnificent.
Over a thousand believers prayed in unison, led by the Pontiff himself. The Pope lifted the child high, bathing him in the radiant light summoned from the heavens.
It was a perfect ritual with a perfect conclusion. The wicked wizards who denied God would find no sanctuary; under the wrath of the Almighty, there was nowhere to hide.
Throughout the ceremony, Ryan Evans—the vampire—watched from the shadows. His eyes were fixed on the infant, ready to snatch him the moment the ritual concluded.
Ryan believed that if the child awoke after this blessing and was raised to adulthood, the blood he would provide would trigger a fundamental evolution in Ryan's vampiric existence.
With the Pope's blessing complete, Ryan's goal was achieved. He no longer needed to rely on the behemoth that was the Church.
He had personally experienced the terrifying power of one of the Hogwarts Founders. The other three surely wouldn't be far behind. The Church might look dominant on paper, but to Ryan, they were walking into a slaughter.
It was time for him to cash out and leave.
---
After the grand ceremony concluded, Herbert Heber—one of the three Red-Robed Cardinals—stormed out of the Pope's chambers in a fury, slamming the door behind him.
To the Cardinals, the Pope was like a father. Their unique "Light" powers were gifts bestowed upon them only after the Pope prayed to the Almighty.
But this "father" clearly favored Alofman. He had actually been convinced to waste his own limited life force to bless some nameless bastard child.
The Blessing of God required a sacrifice of the Pope's lifespan. Herbert was convinced the sleeping child was Alofman's illegitimate son.
A man with a private life as rotten and stinking as Alofman's didn't deserve a child. That was why the baby had been born a soulless husk, doomed to sleep forever without the Rite.
Even with the blessing, who knew how many years it would take for the brat to wake up? It was a waste of the Pope's life. That energy should have been used to strengthen him, not fix Alofman's mistakes.
"Damn that Alofman," Herbert cursed, his heart filled with hate. "Making His Holiness pay for his own filthy sins."
If Alofman returned from England in failure, Herbert vowed to rally the congregation and petition the Pope to strip him of his red robes. He would make Alofman live out the rest of his days like one of those things.
"Tell the Black Prison wardens to prepare two high-grade 'Nether-Wraiths' and send them here immediately," Herbert barked at the guard on his right as he stomped down the hall.
A Nether-Wraith (or Po Wu) was a dark creature born from a mutated soul.
These twisted monstrosities were highly nutritious for those capable of absorbing them. For someone like the Pope, who was weakened after performing a high-level blessing, they were the perfect supplement.
Darkness and Light are two sides of the same coin; when one reaches its limit, it yearns for the other.
The darkest substance is often the best food for the brightest light. Light exists to banish darkness, and darkness exists to shroud the light.
To absorb such concentrated darkness safely, one must be blessed by God and filled with Light. In this world, only the Pope could consume these creatures to replenish his soul.
Furthermore, with the war against Hogwarts looming, Herbert didn't expect the famous Four Founders to go down quietly.
Alofman was the weakest of the Cardinals; he couldn't handle Hogwarts alone. Herbert knew he would have a lot of messes to clean up soon.
Outside the Pope's bedroom, the fully armored guard received the order and marched away silently.
The moment he left, the air shimmered next to the door. Another guard stepped out from within a Disillusionment Charm, taking the empty spot seamlessly.
---
The Edge of the Vatican, Outside a Stone Hut in the Black Prison.
Two hunched, ragged figures respectfully saw off the visiting guard.
Both men were missing their ears. One was also missing the fingers on his right hand.
They were Black Prison Wizards—the lowest tools in the Church's hierarchy.
Only after the guard was completely out of sight did they dare to speak.
"Hey. Do you think the Four Founders will actually attack us here?"
"Whether they come or not isn't our concern. I just know that if the monster we send up is another defect, we'll lose more than just our ears this time."
The hunched wizard touched the scabs on his hand and sighed, fear lingering in his voice.
The conversation died there. Looking grim, the two men entered the stone hut.
The interior was dark and damp. In the center of the room sat a square well, covered by a massive circular stone lid.
The lid was split into two heavy semicircles, pressed tight over the small opening of the wide shaft. Thick iron chains were bolted to the stone slabs, connecting to a massive winch system nearby.
High above, a circular opening in the roof matched the size of the well cover. Though no direct sunlight entered, it allowed enough ambient light to illuminate the pigsty-like dampness of the room.
Grumbling under their breath, the two men began to push the massive winch.
Clack. Clack. Clack.
The gears ground together. The heavy chains pulled taut.
As the men strained against the weight, the stone slabs slowly began to separate. The square well, sealed for who knows how long, was finally exposed to the world above.
---
At the Bottom of the Well.
As the lid opened, light flooded down the deep shaft.
Rey, standing at the bottom, squinted as his eyes adjusted. He stared up at the opening, unable to guess how high up it was.
He couldn't see clearly, but he sensed a barrier—a thin membrane of magic—covering the mouth of the well.
The light wasn't direct sunlight, so it didn't reach the bottom. However, it triggered a reaction. The strange purple plant at Rey's feet began to emit a faint, elusive scent.
The scent didn't rise upward. Instead, it moved like wisps of blue smoke, drifting straight into the tunnel Rey had just crawled out of.
It was as if the smoke knew exactly where it was going.
Time passed quietly. Not long after, Rey heard a familiar, terrifying sound echoing from the tunnel.
The rattling breath of Dementors. And from the sound of it, there was more than one.
Rey immediately drew his wand and cast a Disillusionment Charm on himself.
The charm would hide his body, but against Dementors, it was of little use. They tracked souls and emotions, not visuals. However, Rey was betting that their target was whatever—or whoever—was at the top of the well.
Even though he was invisible, in the magical world, one could never be too careful.
Moments after Rey vanished from sight, two Dementors burst out of the small tunnel, scrambling over each other in a frenzy.
They were thick and ink-black—identical to the powerful one Rey had absorbed earlier.
They swirled around the purple-black plant at the bottom of the well, completely ignoring Rey. It seemed that in the presence of that intoxicating scent, Rey's human soul was nothing more than background noise.
The scent felt like a "pure soul" to them. The two Dementors inhaled it greedily, acting like addicts getting their fix.
But just as they were enjoying the feast, the scent from the plant cut off.
It was like snatching a needle from a junkie's arm. The Dementors went berserk, swirling in agitation, desperate for more.
The sudden withdrawal made them aggressive. But a moment later, the same scent drifted down from the open well mouth high above.
The Dementors froze. They looked up at the circle of light.
Whoosh! Whoosh!
With zero hesitation, the two monsters shot straight up the shaft, racing toward the opening.
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