Maka accepted the handover from the Ministry of Magic's prisoner and the dementors of Azkaban in silence.
It could be seen that the hands of the two prison guards from the Ministry of Magic were trembling slightly when facing the dementors. Even they don't often come into contact with these monsters.
After the prescribed handover process was quickly completed, they used the portkey and left without looking back.
Maka was standing next to the dementors, and he could feel that after the last "mystery crystal" incident, the dementors could already sense him. It's just that this kind of induction is still very weak, which makes the monsters somewhat uninterested.
Maka glanced at them casually, and then took the initiative to walk towards the strange black stone fortress located on the island with steady steps.
According to relevant records, the last owner of this fortress was an evil wizard named "Extis". After his death, all the hiding spells on the island failed, and it was only then discovered by the Ministry of Magic.
As for who originally built this place, no one knows.
As we continue to advance along a path also paved with black rocks, the dementors seem to be everywhere, wandering around aimlessly...
There may never be a prison like Azkaban under this world.
Except for the aboriginal dementors who serve as prison guards, there are not many things set up here to prevent criminals from escaping.
Even the iron gate of the black stone fortress is completely lifted.
"Are they so relieved about those dementors?" Maka turned around and looked at the monsters that were almost everywhere in the mountains and plains. "...Well, maybe, it is indeed quite reassuring."
The increasingly stable magic world brings about the daily life, convenience and popularization of magic. This makes the combat effectiveness of wizards and the exploration of various mysteries of the magic world continue to decline.
As far as most criminals are concerned, this place is already an abyss of hell filled with despair.
After passing the tall fortress gate and passing through a square that had long been deserted, he walked into the area inside the fortress.
This is a real prison transformed by the Ministry of Magic.
If the process is followed, Maka should have come here under the leadership of the dementors and then been imprisoned in one of the prisons. But the Ministry of Magic would never have thought that Maka seemed to be on her own territory here.
Dementors are still everywhere in the dark corridors of the fortress.
But most of them just glanced at Maka subconsciously, and then let him pass by them.
After walking around casually, Maka discovered that most of the prisons here were empty. Compared to this extremely majestic fortress, the number of prisoners imprisoned here is pitifully few.
But when Maka passed by a ledge located behind the fortress, he saw what was behind the castle.
It was a wide cemetery, with tombstones stuck on the ground here and there, extending from the "back garden" near the castle to the edge of the woods in the distance.
The tombstones closest to the castle have even fallen down. They look old and dilapidated, and one can't help but wonder how many years they have spent there.
Maka continued to walk up, but the higher up, the number of prisoners became smaller and smaller, and almost all of them did not react at all to Maka's passing.
They are all trying their best to make themselves fall asleep. Although this will always wake them up due to nightmares, it is definitely better than watching one after another Dementors passing by their cell door, just like queuing up to get food. It’s much better to be happy on your own!
But when Maka passed a certain cell on the third floor, he saw an old witch whose eyes were not completely dead.
"You...who are you? How...could..." The witch half-opened her eyes, her expression confused but slightly sober. She said intermittently, "Are you...a visitor from the Ministry of Magic?"
Maka looked at her with interest, then shook her head after a while.
"I am a prisoner just like you." He said, "Why, your soul has not been completely occupied by negative emotions?"
"... How many times do you think I... came in?" The old witch grinned, as if she wanted to smile, but this was a very difficult thing for her to do, "Huh... I don't know how. Because... this is a compromise."
Maka looked at her and thought for a moment, then suddenly raised her eyebrows and guessed: "Are you Ms. Pinkston?"
"... Do you recognize me?" The old witch squinted her eyes, as if she wanted to see him more clearly.
"Carlotta Pinkston, born in 1922, graduated from Hogwarts Gryffindor House, a well-known activist who advocated the abolition of the International Federation of Wizards Secrecy Act and was committed to the wizarding world and Muggles The fusion of worlds..." Maka randomly picked out some of the information she knew before continuing to ask, "In fact, you are quite famous, because you are always punished for deliberately violating the "Secrecy Act" Sent to Azkaban."
"...This is also a strategy." Ms. Pinkston's eyes opened wider. "Do you think my claim is correct?"
Maka shrugged and said, "I don't want to squat here and talk to you about this."
"What... do you want to do?" Pinkston asked sickly.
But Maka just waved her hand, ignored her, stood up and left.
Meeting Carlotta Pinkston was an accident, not part of his plan. He kept walking, looking at the prisoners who occasionally appeared in his sight seemingly casually, while slowly walking to the higher floors.
Since these unprovoked incidents hindered his research process, he had to arrange the situation first.
All the way up, Maka was like the master of Azkaban, inspecting every criminal imprisoned here.
Finally, he saw a motionless woman lying on the ground in a certain prison.
It was a witch who looked like she was dead. Her dirty, dusty long hair lay on the ground, completely covering her head.
The clothes on the witch's body were in tatters, and her skin exuded a gray and dead air. She was not much different from a corpse.
If it weren't for the faint sight of her chest rising and falling with her breathing, no one would have thought she was still alive.
"Dangdang—"
Maka stretched out her hand and knocked on the iron door of the prison with the chain on her wrist, making several crisp metal collision sounds. The sound echoed in the silent corridor.
The witch's hand seemed to move, and she had obviously heard the sudden sound.
"Bellatrix."
Before Maka's tentative words could be settled, the witch suddenly raised her head, and under her long and messy hair, a pair of eyes full of paranoia and madness pierced straight towards Maka.
"...Who are you?" she growled in a hoarse voice.
Maka ignored her question, looked directly into her eyes and said, "Answer me, are you Bellatrix?"
"Who are you!"
The other party's madness was obviously extraordinary. She shouted hoarsely, grabbed the cell door and slammed into it, making a loud "bang" sound.
The target has obviously been found, so there is no need to continue to talk to her.
Maka turned around, a layer of solid silvery white light already glowing on her hands. He reached out his hand, grabbed the face of a certain dementor that was passing behind him, and dragged it all the way downstairs.
In the prison, Bellatrix, who had already fallen into madness, couldn't help but take a half step back - there was no way, Maka's behavior had unparalleled deterrence in the eyes of all Azkaban prisoners.
Facts have proved that dementors are magical creatures with no emotions at all. Even though the unlucky guy in Maka's hands was struggling, they seemed not to see him at all and allowed him to leave quickly. .
…
In Little Hangleton, villagers still call an old house here "Riddle House" even though no one has lived there for many years.
The house is located on a high hillside, from which the entire village can be seen.
Several windows in the house were sealed, the tiles on the roof were incomplete, and ivy crawled all over the house.
Riddle House was originally a handsome mansion, the most spacious and imposing building for miles around; but now it has become so damp, desolate, and covered with the traces of time. .
The villagers of Little Hangleton agreed that the old house was indeed "scary".
Half a century ago, a bizarre and horrific event occurred here. And until now, the older generation in the village still like to talk about this matter when they have nothing else to talk about.
This story has been told over and over again, and in many places it has been added to the story. No one is sure what the truth is.
However, every version of the story begins the same way:
Fifty years ago, when Riddle was still a well-managed and magnificent time, on a clear summer dawn, a maid walked into the living room and found that all three members of the Riddle family had died.
The maid screamed all the way down the hillside and ran into the village, waking up the villagers.
"... They were all lying with their eyes wide open! They were all cold! They were still wearing their dinner clothes!" she said.
The police were called, and the entire village of Little Hangleton was immersed in surprise and curiosity. The villagers tried their best to conceal their excitement, but failed.
No one wasted any effort pretending to feel sorry for the Derills, who had always been unpopular in the village.
The old couple were wealthy but snobbish and rough, and their adult son Tom...
You may not believe it, but he is actually a bit worse than his parents!
The villagers were concerned about who the murderer was - obviously, it was impossible for three seemingly healthy people to die of natural causes at the same time on the same night.
"It's been a big circle, but I ended up back at this place -" At this moment, in Riddle's house, a handsome young wizard was standing by the broken window, looking outside and chuckled, "Isn't it? Nagini …”