Wizards: Starting with Fairy Crests

008: The Screams of Silent Manor

The truth behind Silent Manor is that it was used to screen suitable host sites for the Evil Eye Tyrant in preparation for its future invasion of the wizarding world.

Therefore, all the "tests" inside are essentially centered around screening out "traitors".

Pushing open the decaying iron gate and entering the manor, the first thing that caught Harold and his companions' eye was two rows of neatly arranged stone sculptures standing on either side of the path.

On the left, a noblewoman in the palace lifts her skirt and bows slightly. The folds of her skirt are so delicate and lifelike. However, her head is slightly raised, and where there should be cherry lips, there are rough stone "stitches" sewn together. The stitches are exaggerated and distorted, as if they have been violently sealed off in extreme pain.

On the right, a scholar-like man holds a book, looking down as if studying it intently. His lips are also tightly sewn shut with "stone lines," and a "thread end" even sticks out abruptly, frozen in the moment when he seems about to speak but stops.

Looking back, there were elderly people with canes, children running, lovers embracing, soldiers wielding swords... their postures varied greatly, but without exception, their mouths were all tightly sewn shut.

The stitches come in all sorts of strange ways. Some are crisscrossed like a spider web, some are simply and crudely drawn across several lines, and some even "sew" the skin of the lips and cheeks together, forming a hideous ghost face that is permanently silenced.

The stone sculpture's facial expression is thus frozen in a strange twist, not one of pain, but one of eerie calm.

These sculptures silently proclaim the first and most important rule of Silent Manor—

Silence!

As a traitor, the first thing to do is to keep secrets. If you can't even do that, you're not worthy of the Evil Eye Tyrant's time and resources to cultivate you. You should just become fertilizer as soon as possible.

Looking at the eerie sculptures around them, Harold and the others were extremely nervous. They exchanged uneasy glances and silently walked forward.

Walking forward along the sculpture group, you will see a cobblestone path.

The path was paved with gray-black pebbles of varying sizes, and the cracks between the stones were filled with a thick layer of decaying, dead leaves that had accumulated over the years, their color as dark as stagnant blood.

Countless tiny, fragile twigs lay scattered on it, like dry, fragile bones protruding from the earth.

There was hardly a single intact stone slab to step on; every step meant putting weight on a layer of rustling dead leaves of unknown thickness and on easily broken branches.

This brings us to the second stage of the Evil Eye Tyrant's selection of traitors—

Be careful and cautious.

Only the most cautious and careful can survive in the wizarding world and have a chance to grow to the point of becoming the vessel for the Evil Eye Tyrant.

Harold's pupils contracted slightly. He gestured for his companion to stop, then slowly crouched down and gently brushed aside a small patch of fallen leaves with his fingers to test the stability of the pebbles below.

Fine beads of sweat appeared on his forehead. He lifted his foot and first probed the thinnest part of the fallen leaves with his toes to feel the position of the withered branches below. Then he slowly pressed down with the outer edge of his foot, transferring his entire body weight bit by bit, as if he were walking through a minefield covered with dry snake skin.

Throughout the entire process, his taut muscles and focused expression were even more solemn than when he fought the monster. Any slight "crack" or "rustle" could break this fragile balance and awaken what lay hidden behind the silence.

Harold and his two companions, almost completely exhausted, took their last step and left the nerve-wracking path of withered leaves and pebbles.

The heavy, oppressive oak door of the main building, covered in stains, was now almost within reach. There were no more obvious obstacles ahead, and the twisted, decaying vine with its few dark purple buds hanging down in the center of the courtyard was clearly visible.

A wave of exhaustion from surviving a disaster and the ecstasy of impending success washed over them simultaneously.

For the first time, a relieved, almost distorted smile appeared on Harold's tense face. He turned back and gave Marin and Kellerb, whose faces were also flushed, a "success is in sight" gesture, even mouthing silently, "Almost there!"

however,

Just then—

A stone shot out from the shadow of a clump of withered, gnarled bushes outside the manor to the side and rear! It traced a short arc, hitting its target squarely, "Clang—!!!"

It slammed hard into a diamond-shaped glass window on the second floor of the main building, which was already blurred and indistinct!

The fragile old glass shattered with a loud crash, the sound like a thunderclap in the absolutely silent courtyard! The sharp, high-pitched, and destructive noise brutally tore apart all the carefully maintained tranquility.

Harold's smile froze and shattered instantly, transforming into utter terror and bewilderment. Marin's mouth gaped open, an instinctive scream about to burst from her throat—

But there's no need for him to speak anymore.

"Click...click...cluck cluck..."

A sickening, grinding sound of stone rubbing and twisting arose from behind them, on both sides of the path, a dense, resounding din. The stone sculptures, which had stood silently with their mouths roughly sewn shut, suddenly seemed to come alive!

The noblewoman slowly turned her head, her stitched stone lips twisting violently, the stone threads breaking to reveal a dark, hollow mouth that seemed to emit a silent scream.

The scholar dropped the stone scroll from his hands, and he grabbed his face with both hands, tearing open the seam amidst flying stone chips.

Elders, children, lovers, soldiers… all the statues, in a stiff and frenzied posture that defied the properties of the stone, turned towards the source of the noise—

Or rather, the focus shifted to the three living people standing dumbfounded in the center of the courtyard.

A sinister green light, filled with malice, burned within the hollow eye sockets.

"No—!!!" Harold finally let out a desperate, distorted roar.

But the scream was immediately drowned out by even more chilling "sounds": the rumble of the moving statues, the cracking of crushed branches, and... a deeper, more resonant hum, seemingly emanating from the foundations of the manor, filled with the anger of being awakened.

The screams lasted only for a very brief moment.

Immediately following were the dull thud of a heavy object striking, the crisp sound of bones cracking, and a subtle, wet, sticky sound, as if something was being dragged and swallowed up.

A few seconds later, all the strange noises stopped abruptly.

The statues returned to their original postures and positions, but they seemed to have some fresh, dark red wet stains on their bodies.

A moment later, a figure wearing a gray cloak emerged silently from behind the bushes from which the stones had been thrown and appeared outside the manor gate.

Lin Qi didn't rush inside, but instead stood on the main road of the manor to observe and wait.

They waited until late at night, until they were sure that no one else might bother them.

Only then did he enter the manor.

Lynch walked along the carefully "cleaned" cobblestone path, the rustling of the fallen leaves under his feet so faint as to be almost imperceptible.

Like a seasoned visitor, he skillfully avoided all the fragile, withered branches that might cause too much noise, and crossed the courtyard with steady and swift steps.

The scene in the open space in front of the main building was horrific.

The bodies of Harold and the other two lay sprawled to one side, twisted and deformed, clearly dead beyond any doubt.

A strong, pungent smell of blood filled the air, mixing with the manor's original decaying odor to create an even more nauseating stench.

Lin Qi remained unmoved, as if the objects in front of him were just a few piles of trash in his way.

He first scanned the bodies warily to make sure they were all dead, then quickly walked to the corpses, squatted down, and began to search them with swift and decisive movements.

From the inner pocket that Harold was close to his chest, he pulled out a palm-sized, rough-hewn pocket made of some kind of black leather.

Marin and Kellerb each had one, similar in shape, only dirtier and older.